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  The town car finally pulled to a stop a few hours later in front of one of New York City’s beautifully tall buildings. Caroline thanked her father’s driver again and hopped out of the car. She didn’t have time to go home and drop off her overnight bag, so it was slung over her shoulder.

  She smoothed her hair and hope that she still looked okay after the long drive, even though she was hauling around her luggage with her. She looked up at the entrance as she stood on the sidewalk, trying to gather herself.

  She knew that this was it. This was one of those moments that defined the rest of your life, the moment where you choose what path you will take. She took a deep breath and walked up to the doors and let herself in.

  Once inside she glanced around, looking for him, but couldn’t see him among all the people. After a moment, she saw a hand waving at her and she smiled back at him, walking over. Turner sat there, smiling with relief.

  “You came,” he said to her, smiling, standing up and taking her bag from her, placing it under the table.

  “Of course, you didn’t think I would?” Caroline replied.

  He smiled back at her and brushed her cheek with his hand.

  “To be honest, I was a little worried. Especially when you disappeared the last two days not to mention the small fact that you are about forty-five minutes late.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips, then he pulled her chair out for her and the two sat down.

  “I am sorry about that. I went to my parent’s house. I left you a note, did you see it? I just needed to get out of the city and think things through, you know?” She unfolded her napkin in her lap and sipped some wine.

  “Yeah, I got it. I think it’s good you got that time for yourself. I hope you don’t mind that I already ordered for us, since you were late. I know what kind of wine you like.” He smiled at her again and reached across the table for her hand.

  “It’s delicious, Turner.” Caroline put down the wine glass and took his hand, giving him a squeeze.

  The waiter walked up to them and asked for their orders. Turner already knew what he wanted and opened his menu, Caroline quickly flipped hers open and scanned the choices.

  “I will have the New York Strip Steak, 16 ounces and medium rare, please, with the baked potato and broccoli,” Turner said confidently and then closed his menu.

  “And I will have the butternut squash ravioli, please,” Caroline said, picking out an item. The waiter wrote down their orders and took their menus from them.

  “So, how are your parents doing?”

  “Good, same as usual. They were at the country club all day today. It was nice getting away for a bit. Mom and I had a great talk, it was pretty momentous. She has never really talked to me as a peer before or opened up that much about her past. She had always talked to me like I am still her little girl, you know? But last night, we talked in the most real way we ever have. It was pretty wonderful,” Caroline mused, smiling at the memory of bonding with her mother.

  “I remember the first time I felt that way with my father, it was really a shock. The first time I actually felt like an adult, I think,” Turner chimed in.

  The two took a few sips of their wine and chatted a bit more about their parents until their dinners arrived.

  “Wow, this looks delicious,” Caroline said, quickly digging into her dinner.

  She realized that she was actually starving since she had woken up so late and not had a chance to eat. She had done the same thing yesterday in her spontaneous move to go to her parents. The stress of everything was really taking a toll on her mind and her body.

  “Slow down,” Turner laughed. “You’re going to choke on your food.”

  “I’m sorry, I haven’t eaten all day. I was in such a rush to get back.” Caroline laughed.

  She finished her meal within minutes and Turner cut off some of his steak for her to eat as well. The couple finally finished everything, happily smiling at one another. The waiter cleared their dish and then immediately showed up with a large lava chocolate cake for two.

  “I ordered this ahead of time for us, it takes a long time to bake,” Turner said as Caroline looked at him in confusion.

  “That’s very sweet.” She gazed at his big, puppy dog brown eyes and curly mop of hair and smiled, feeling a warmth in her heart for him. She knew that she was so lucky to have met this man and experience the kindness he showed her every day.

  “I was hoping it would be a nice way to celebrate. At least I hope that we are going to celebrate?” Turner said, his voice getting quieter while he looked down at the table and shuffled his feet nervously, bumping his knees clumsily against the bottom of the table.

  Caroline looked down at her lap, knowing he wanted an answer. They had been avoiding the issue for most of dinner, as well as the past week, and she knew it was about time that she eased his mind and let him know what she had decided.

  She leaned down and reached into her purse, pulling out the ring box that held the gorgeous diamond ring. She put it on the table and they both looked at it.

  “Turner, I have thought about this a lot. Marriage isn’t something I ever wanted to rush into and we have only been dating six months. We have never even discussed it before this, so that’s why I felt like I had to take the time to think this over before making a decision. I know this week was tough for you and I’m sorry about that, because the last thing I want to do is ever hurt you. I truly hope that you know that and believe it, because even with every mistake I have ever made, I have always loved you and never wanted to hurt you,” Caroline explained.

  “What do you mean? What mistakes? Caroline, you’ve been wonderful,” Turner told her, leaning forward.

  She gave him a tight lipped smile, but the expression on her face was that of pain. She reached across the table and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. Then she picked up the ring box with her other hand, opened his hand that she was still holding, and placed the box in his palm.

  Turner looked down, both of her hands wrapped around his one hand, and the lonely, little ring box.

  “Turner, I love you so much. You’re so wonderful to me. You’re the perfect guy in so many ways.” Caroline cleared her throat, because she felt her voice beginning to break.

  “I know where this is going.” Turner sighed, with a hint of anger and pushed himself back from the table, dropping her hand.

  The box sat on the table like a stone. Caroline sat back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap.

  “Turner, I can’t marry you,” Caroline said flatly. The guilt was washing around in her stomach, mixing with her squash dinner, threatening to make a reappearance.

  “God, Caroline, why not? We already live together, we love each other. Is it just because it’s too early? I mean, we can have a really long engagement,” Turner said, rolling his eyes and clearly exasperated. She knew this made no sense to him.

  “Because, Turner, that’s not what I want. We both know that. I think we have to face facts that this isn’t meant to be,” Caroline said.

  “How can you say you love me and then also say it’s not meant to be? Is this about whatever mistakes you are talking about? You have never made a mistake in my eyes,” Turner told her.

  He grabbed a spoon and took a big bite of the chocolate cake, trying to comfort himself. Caroline sighed and paused for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. She dabbed her napkin underneath her eyes, where tears were welling.

  “Turner, I do love you, but my biggest mistake was ever letting us get this far when I knew somewhere deep down that my heart was somewhere else.”

  Turner put down his utensil and looked at her with a stern look she hadn’t seen before. “There’s someone else? You have feelings for someone else?”

  “I’m in love with someone else,” she confirmed. Turner’s face was first confusion and then it hardened.

  “Who is he?” Turner dropped his spoon with a loud clatter.

  “It doesn’t
matter, Turner,” she said, placing her napkin on the table. “Aralia and Jackie will be by this weekend and move all my stuff out. I’m really sorry.”

  “It matters to me, Caroline. Who is he?” Turner asked again, slapping his napkin down on the table.

  “Why do you want to know, Turner? What does it matter? The outcome won’t change, it will only hurt you more and that’s not what I want to do,” Caroline told him, arguing.

  “I think that ship has sailed, Caroline. I’m hurt. Satisfied? Now, I am only going to ask one more time. I want an answer. I think you at least owe me that. Who is he?” Turner said, grimly.

  Caroline sighed and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Logan Clay.”

  “Logan Clay? Who is Logan Clay? Wait, Logan Clay the singer?”

  Caroline was silent and just looked at Turner, but she could see the wheels turning in his head as he began putting some puzzle pieces together.

  “Shit, Caroline,” Turner said, somewhat loudly.

  Caroline looked around the restaurant, a bit alarmed.

  “Turner,” she warned, suggesting he lower his voice.

  “That time you started crying when we watched his music video, Hazel Eyes? Holy shit, are you the hazel eyes he wrote about? Fuck, that day on the news when he was at your favorite coffee shop? That wasn’t a PR stunt, was it? You said you went to Aralia’s that night. Did you lie to me? Holy shit, this is all starting to make sense now. I can’t even believe that you would do that to me, Caroline,” Turner started yelling.

  “Turner, I never meant to hurt you. Logan and I had our fling before you and I ever met. It was over when we met. He was gone on tour for six months and only got back two weeks ago. I just realized that what I thought I had gotten past and moved on from, I really haven’t,” Caroline told him, begging forgiveness.

  “Well, I have great timing, don’t I? Proposing to my girlfriend the same week she starts cheating on me?” Turner accused her.

  “Turner, it wasn’t like that!” Caroline said emphatically, rubbing her hand against her temples to relieve the ache in her head.

  “Just leave, Caroline,” Turner said coldly, picking up his spoon to finish the lava cake by himself.

  Caroline sat there for a few moments, but knew that there was nothing else that she could say right now to make this better, things were only going to deescalate from here if she tried. She finally nodded her head and tried to hold back her tears.

  Picking up her purse and her overnight bag, she left the table. As she got to the restaurant doors, she could feel the tears threatening to burst, so she quickly went out to the sidewalk and hailed a cab. Luckily, one stopped right away and she hopped in. The moment she sat down, she burst into tears and held her face in her hands.

  “Miss? Where to?” the cab driver said awkwardly, turning around to look at her. “Miss, are you okay?”

  Caroline couldn’t speak, but just kept crying for a few more minutes. The cab driver rummaged around in his glove box and came up with an old box of tissues and handed them to her.

  She smiled at him, in thanks, through her tears and tried to calm down, wiping the tear stains off her face. After another few minutes, she began to get her breathing under control. The cab driver was still parked in front of the restaurant and awkwardly glancing back at her, clearly regretting having pulled over to pick her up.

  “I’m sorry,” Caroline told him, calming down. “I just broke up with my boyfriend.”

  “It’s okay, Miss. Where do you want me to take you?” he asked her. Caroline reached into her purse and pulled out the invitation to Logan’s show and handed it to him.

  “To that address, please.” She sniffed.

  He glanced at the invitation and then handed it back to her and pulled away from the curb.

  “Sure thing, Miss, but that party is over now I think. It's almost ten o’clock,” the cab driver said as he hit the gas pedal, trying to make up the time he lost while she was crying.

  Caroline’s eyes widened and she grabbed for her phone in the bottom of her purse. She finally found it and looked at the time, which confirmed that it was a quarter to ten which was long past when the gallery was supposed to close. She leaned back in her seat, frustrated with herself.

  She had known that she was going to be late, but she didn’t realize how long it would actually turn out to be. Turner deserved an explanation, he deserved the dinner she had promised, and he deserved the time she had given him.

  It was the least she could do knowing how badly she had just hurt him. However, now there was a chance that she might miss Logan and she couldn’t bare it if she had lost out on being with her Eduardo.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The cab screeched to a stop in front of the art gallery and Caroline quickly handed him a few bills, then swung her bags over her shoulder, and headed toward the front door of the art gallery.

  She grabbed the door and pulled, but it didn’t budge, it was locked. The gallery had already closed. Caroline took a step back and cursed at herself for missing the show, for missing Logan. She stepped back up to the door and cupped her hand around her eyes, trying to peer through the glass.

  She knocked on the door, tapping lightly.

  She saw a light in the back so she started banging louder. She couldn’t believe she had screwed this up so badly. Caroline could feel tears starting to well up in her eyes again, but she pushed them back and started banging even louder on the door.

  She saw a silhouette appear in the back, causing her to bang even louder on the door. Luckily, the person saw her and headed over her way.

  Caroline stepped back and the door opened for her. The man standing there was familiar, but she couldn’t remember exactly where she had seen him before.

  “Caroline, Logan told me to look for you earlier in the show,” the man said to her and it suddenly dawned on her that this was one of Logan’s security guards.

  She had met him at the concert many, many months ago. Jackson was Logan’s driver, but had been doing security work for him for a while now as well. Caroline didn’t even say hello to him, because her mind was only on one thing.

  “Is he still here, Jackson?” she said, stepping inside.

  “I don’t think so, the show ended a while ago. I’m not part of his home security, so I was just closing up here. He is leaving for Greece tonight, so my guess is that he is already on the way to the airport. The schedule was to head straight there after the show wrapped up,” Jackson told her.

  Caroline’s whole body slumped at the news. He was gone, he was on a plane to Europe, and she had missed her chance. She heard the words, but they didn’t seem to be making sense in her head. She couldn’t have missed out on her one chance, she couldn’t possibly have missed him.

  “He’s gone?” she said softly, the tears that were threatening to spill finally did. Jackson took a few steps over to her and touched her arm.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her.

  She nodded her head saying that she wasn’t okay.

  “Do you want to look around at the paintings, since you are here anyway? I can wait to close up for a while. If you want, I can try to make some phone calls and see if he left yet. He might still be here,” he told her before he walked away toward an office.

  Caroline walked from the foyer into the next room and flipped on the light switch. The walls were lined with beautiful paintings and there were several benches positioned for people to sit on to view them. A doorway on the far end led to another room with a similar set up. Caroline stepped into the room slowly and gazed at the paintings.

  They were all landscapes of scenery and flowery depictions, so Caroline could tell right away that they were not Logan’s. She walked past and headed into the next room, which was much nicer than the first. The ceiling was all glass so stars beamed down into the room, which was still dark, since she had not turned on the lights.

  She didn’t reach for the light switch, because something about the star light mesmerized her
. The patterns and streaks that they cast onto the paintings were haunting, yet beautiful. The room contained about ten paintings ranging in size but they all had one thing in common, they were all about her.

  She walked into the center of the room and looked at one of the paintings that the stars lit up the most vividly. It was her, same as every picture was her. There was a painting of her at her window bench in her old apartment, another of her ankle deep in the ocean, and so on.

  This one picture though, she wasn’t alone. She was to the left looking off into the distance, only her profile showing in the painting. Behind her resting on her shoulder was a man’s strong arm belonging to a shadowy male silhouette.

  In his other hand was a bouquet of roses, tilted towards the ground, as if he was about to drop them. It seemed she didn’t even know he was there, didn’t even know he loved her. She walked closer to the painting and reached up to gently touch the cheek of the male silhouette.

  The painting was nondescript, but she knew it was Logan.

  She had missed her chance. Their story had played out just like his painting. She had turned her back on him all this time, spurned his love, and now he was gone. He was gone and had taken half of her heart with him. A warm tear slid off her eyelashes and spilled down her cheek. She sniffed quietly and wiped at her cheek.

  “Do those tears mean you like the painting, or hate it? An artist never really knows what his audience will see in his renderings,” a deep, familiar voice behind her asked.

  Caroline whirled around in surprise, letting out a yelping sound, startled at the sudden invasion of her private moment.

  When she turned around, she was staring straight into Logan’s piercing blue, smoldering eyes. She didn’t say anything, her throat was locked closed making words an impossible feat.

  Instead, she took a fast step forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body tightly up against him, and kissed him firmly on his lips. He was frozen for a moment in surprise, but then melted into her kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her up, closer to him, causing her feet to dangle above the floor. Her arms were still around his neck, one holding on to him and the other hand tangled in his hair.