Chapter 5: Afraid

Franklin was shaken to the core. Disbelief drained the color from his face as he blurted, without thinking, “Christy can’t say that. It’s impossible.”

He was so sure—so certain.

Winchester studied his grandson’s confident posture, then rose from the bed and crossed to a small recorder on the dresser. He pressed play.

Christy’s voice filled the room: “Your grandson and I aren’t dating. We’re just friends. I don’t have any feelings for him, and I don’t see us being together—now or in the future.”

Franklin stood there, ashen and hollow-eyed. Humiliation curdled into rage. He spun on his heel and stormed out of his grandfather’s bedroom, fists clenched so hard his knuckles blanched.

His footsteps pounded through the halls and out the front door. He threw himself into his car and tore out of the mansion’s gates, pushing the engine harder and harder, aiming straight for Christy’s place.

He had never been this angry. Christy had denied him—denied them. She didn’t see a future for the two of them. Her words had pierced so deep he could hardly think.

He killed the engine and roared, voice scraping the air, “Christy! Christy!”

He sprinted to the door and hammered at it, each blow rattling the frame. “Christy, open this fucking door! Open the door!”

Seconds dragged. He couldn’t stand still. He slammed the wood again and again, shouting, “You denied me, Christy! You told my grandfather we’re not dating—you lied to him! How dare you?”

Impatience gave way to desperation. He bolted from the porch to the side of the house, stopping beneath her window.

“Christy!” he shouted up. “You think I’m afraid of losing you? You think I care whether you’re my girl? Go fuck yourself! I don’t even want you. Get lost! I fucking hate you!”

The words weren’t enough. Fury shook through him. He kicked a flowerpot, sending pottery and soil skittering across the ground. “Damn it! You’re not even that pretty. I don’t know what I ever saw in you. I brought you to my grandfather and called you my girlfriend—cheap hoe!”

He spun away, stalked back to his car, and yanked the door open. The engine roared to life, then he slammed the brakes, breathing hard. He grabbed his phone and dialed her. The call didn’t connect.

He tried again. And again. Bloodshot eyes, ragged breath. Panic edged into the anger.

He stumbled out of the car and ran back to her window, voice cracking with frantic spite. “What’s wrong with you, Christy? Why aren’t you picking up? You think you’re indispensable? Irreplaceable? Please. I can bag a chick a hundred times hotter than you. Bitch!”

Franklin turned back and walked to his car. This time he didn’t get in. He leaned against the door, staring up at Christy’s window. Her room was dark; the curtains never once twitched. She didn’t even peek out.

The ache in his chest sharpened. He clenched his fists, eyes stinging, and finally marched to the side of the house beneath her window. “Christy,” he called, voice raw, “I’m sorry. Whatever I did to make you this angry—please forgive me. I’ll change. I’ll be better. I won’t hurt you like that again. I’ll treasure you. I’ll value you. I promise.”

He poured out promise after promise, but the window stayed closed. After a while he sank to the ground, hollow and exhausted, resignation eating at him.

At dawn the front door clicked open. Franklin sprang to his feet and rushed over, nerves buzzing. “Christy—you look beautiful this morning. Did you sleep well? I didn’t disturb you, did I? I made a lot of noise last night,” he babbled, breathless and eager in a way she’d never seen before.

But she had already decided. She looked at him, face unreadable, and said nothing.

He pushed on anyway. “I know I’ve been a terrible boyfriend, but I’ll do better. I’ll be intentional. I’ll make a reservation at Heaven’s Tower like you always wanted. We’ll go to the zoo, and a movie night—everything you wished we’d do. I’ll make your dreams come true. I’ll be back to pick you up at two.”

Before she could answer, fear of rejection sparked in him. He spun away, jumped into his car, and sped off.

Franklin first went to the hotel and booked a reservation. Then he visited a popular cinema and reserved the entire hall, giving detailed instructions for the decorations. His final stop was the zoo, where he made special arrangements with the management.

Afterward, he drove home. Although exhausted, he showered and made sure he looked his best, lingering a moment at the mirror to check his reflection. On his way to pick up Christy from her home, he stopped to buy her a gift.

But Christy had already gone to see Winchester, Franklin’s grandfather. They were sitting together, talking.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” she said. “It’s true—Franklin was my boyfriend, but he’s my ex now. He cheated on me. I don’t condone cheating. He treated me like a spare and never took me seriously.” She handed Winchester a photo she had taken of Franklin and another woman making out. Then she continued, “Ever since I met you, every moment I spend with you brings me nothing but joy. I want you. I’ve fallen for you. Do you feel the same?”

Christy met Winchester’s eyes. Their gazes locked.

“Kid, are you sure about that?” he asked.

Christy answered by leaning in and pressing her lips to his.

Winchester’s eyes widened in shock, and then, for the first time in years, something stirred in him. He slid a hand to her neck and drew her closer, deepening the kiss.

Just then, Christy’s phone began to ring. The caller ID read: Franklin.