Enchanted (Billionaire Boys Club #2) | ongoing

Chapter 51

                     Donatella:

It's the next day and I've been pacing in my bedroom since the morning. Only now, do I have somewhat company.

"Okay, I understand that this is super stressful but walking up and down your room isn't going to fix anything."

"You do the same thing when you're stressed out." I point out.

"Yes. But that's only because no one's there to tell me it's pointless."

I sigh and drop down onto my bed, facing my laptop screen where my cousin is currently sat at her informal dining table, a teacup and saucer in front of her.

"I don't know what to do. I don't know what's going to happen. What he's thinking. What if he doesn't want to be with me anymore?" That's the one thing that's stood out amongst all the other worries. Because that's what scares me most. I don't want to lose him. I can't. Not again.

"That's ridiculous. He loves you."

"How do you know that?"

"Because it's obvious." She states. "He loves you. And based on his character, do you really think a little setback is going to stop him from having you?"

"This isn't little. It's huge. And- and-"

"Okay. Deep breaths. Trong và ngoài." (In and out)

I do just that, getting my breathing under control. "I'm scared, Daci. I really don't want him to think differently of me."

"He won't. I'm telling you. The guy is obsessed with you. You told me he literally broke some guy's bones for touching you, remember? And that wasn't even when you were together."

"That was different."

"How?"

"Because..."

"Exactly. Come on. Where's my positive Tella?"

"She's not here." I flop onto my back.

"Well, get her back here. I have a job for her."

Slowly, I sit back up.

"Stop overthinking everything. I know how hard that is, trust me. But it'll do you no good. He cares about you so much. You know so. So try to stop worrying and instead, think about how all of this will get resolved in no time. Okay?"

"I'll try." I say.

"Good." She purses her lips. "Do you need me to fly over? This charity gala isn't important."

"A charity gala isn't important?"

"Well, we've already donated. It's not like looking at my face will save the hungry...actually."

My first laugh today leaves me. "It's fine. I'm sure you'll have much more fun judging people's outfits and scouting out potential suitors than comforting me."

"I don't know. These days, it's getting kind of boring. Especially the suitors part. These guys are hopeless. There's a rumour that some rich heir is returning from being abroad, though. He isn't Viet but apparently he's half Chinese."

"Only half? And you criticise me for being with a white boy."

"Well, I guess he's the exception. You do have over a decade long connection. And he's not ugly. So there's that."

"He's way more than not ugly." I smile to myself.

"Whatever." She sings.

"Well, tell me all about it later. I'll call you."

"Make sure you do. If not, I'll call you."

"Okay."

"Tạm biệt." (Bye)

"Tạm biệt." (Bye)

After hanging up, I huff out a breath and bounce one on the bed in frustration. Then, I hear a knock at my door before it opens and my mother walks in.

"Con mèo." She calls me by my household nickname.

"Đúng?" (Yes?) I ask.

"What are you doing?"

"I was talking to Daci."

"Is she alright?" She smiles and comes to sit beside me.

"Mm. She's good."

"Scheming? Ordering people around?"

"Of course." I laugh lightly.

"Do you miss her? Should we visit her soon?"

Nodding, I lay my head onto her shoulder.

"Chuyện gì vậy?" (What's wrong?)

"Nothing. I'm just tired."

"Ohh." I feel her nod. "Tired from being sad?"

I blink but don't give her an answer. What's the point? She won't buy my denies and even if I did, she'd get the truth out of me eventually.

"Mẹ." (Mom) I say quietly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think it'll all be okay?"

"Mm. Tôi không biết." (I don't know)

I move my head up so that I can look at her. "Why not?"

She just shrugs.

"Mẹ." I sit up fully, frowning, and she smiles, tucking my hair behind my year and smoothing it down my head.

"It'll all be as it is meant to be." She says. "I know that."

"I want to be with him." I whisper.

"Then learn the story." She tells me. "And if you're ready to move on from it all, make sure that he stays yours. Hm?"

Swallowing, I hug a pink heart pillow to my chest before laying my head into her lap, nodding.

She strokes my hair and I close my eyes at the comforting feeling. "You love him."

Slowly, I nod again. "I love him."

"And he loves you."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

"This, you just do."

She laughs and kisses my temple. "If you truly love each other, you will find your way. Now. In a week. In a month, a year."

I shake my head. "No. That's too long."

"Then you do all you can to make it shorter. But you must heal your own wounds before you fall into him again. You never knew the whole narrative. You must this time." She doesn't say anything else but I can hear the words in her head. "I don't want to see you hurt again"

"I will." I answer, resolutely.

I'm finally going to know everything. I need to.

I'm ready.