Sleeping with Mr. Sexy(15)

I take the courthouse stairs by two with no Plan A or Plan B in place. Winging this, I’ve just got to see him. My insides twist. I need to know if it’s all true verified by the source himself. The doors swing open and a small crowd exits, all popping their umbrellas open at once. I squeeze between them, going against the stream. I hear complaints as I get a myriad of grey and black suits wet, but I don’t care. There’s no time for me to be concerned with anyone other than Chase right now.

Why didn’t he get married?

Rushing down the marble corridor too fast, I hit a slick spot and slide across the cold stone and fall right on my ass. “Damn!” My swear word echoes through the great hall and silence befalls the busy courthouse lobby.

“Lydia?”

I’m on my knees when I hear the most perfect voice say my name and swivel toward the sound. When I spot him in the crowd, I smile. He’s more handsome than my memory recalled. He always is.

“Lydia, are you all right?” Chase rushes over to me.

“Why didn’t you get married?” I plead from the floor below him, the words rushing out.

He seems confused as he reaches down, taking me by the forearms and pulling me up to my feet. With a lowered voice, he asks, “Well, hello to you, too. What are you doing here?”

Gripping his forearms clothed by the smooth grey fabric of his suit, my eyes meet his. “Chase.” His name flees my lips more as a sigh than a calling. Looking down between us, my insecurities begin to return. I shake my head once, closing my eyes to regain the composure I’ll need to be able to say what I came here to say. I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be saying, but I decide to drop all pretenses and go with how I feel.

“Are you visiting your family? What are you doing back in the city?” he asks.

“Chase, two minutes,” a stranger says, tapping him on the shoulder.

I watch as Chase acknowledges him with a nod. “Okay,” he replies. “Lydia? What’s going on?”

It doesn’t escape me that he’s still holding my arms firmly with concern. Always concerned. Always concerned because he loves me, loved me… fingers crossed, he still loves me.

I let my heart express my feelings when I say, “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I just need to see you. Heather told me you didn’t get married.”

I watch as he rolls his eyes, looking away from me. He turns back with a huff, and says, “They weren’t supposed to tell you.”

“Why? Why weren’t they supposed to tell me? Why didn’t you go through with it? You told me to have a good life. You told me goodbye. Why did it matter if they told me?” I could feel the anger swelling in my chest—a different emotion busting forth than I originally expected. His nice suit being fisted as I grasp hold of him, wanting answers from him as much as he wants answers from me.

Removing my hands from his clothes, he takes them in his, and whispers, “I need to go. My client’s case is next on the docket.” He takes a step back away from me.

I take a step forward. “Please, just tell me.”

“Chase!” An older man commands his attention and waves him over. “It’s time. We need to go in now.”

He looks back at me quickly. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“No!” There’s a desperation to my tone, but I don’t care how I appear to everyone else. I’ve cared about that for too long. “I need to know.” Tears flow from my eyes again for all to see, for him to see. “You have to tell me. Please.”

With the back of his fingers, he does a light stroke down my cheek. “I didn’t love her enough. I don’t think I ever did.”

“Why?” I ask, barely hearing the question myself.

He leans forward and kisses me on the forehead. With his lips still pressed against my skin, he says, “She didn’t compare.” He turns on his heel, and his absence hits my rain-soaked body making me shiver.

He glances back right before entering the courtroom, leaving me standing there alone.

She didn’t compare. She. Didn’t. Compare.

For twenty minutes, I’ve been waiting on the courthouse steps outside. It stopped raining and I’m soaked, so I sit down and start calling people. Heather answers and I explain the whole conversation I had with Chase in detail over the phone. “He said she didn’t compare.”

“Lydia, this is huge! I mean major, epic huge!” She squeals, which makes me smile.

“Don’t get your hopes up, yet,” I say, dragging my palm down my drenched jeans. “I need to go. You’re making me all nervous. I don’t want to over think this or over analyze it. Chase and I just need to talk.”