Forrest — Chapter 46 Friends in The City

MEGAN

“I’M SORRY, Meg. I didn’t think of that. I thought there’s something left for both of you to catch up.”

I wiped my face. “Well, newsflash, he left me because there’s nothing left to continue, and I have nothing left to fight for. I was expecting every day, for twenty-seven days since he left that he might call or send me a message, but it never happened. We barely even started, and I was just stupid to hold onto something that doesn’t anymore. It hurts, and I still have self-worth left, you know. It’s over. We are over.”

“Oh, Meg. But one day, you have to open your eyes and take another look for the possibility that there’s still something to catch up or something out there.” I could feel the sincerity in her voice seeping through me. She shouldn’t be doing this to me because it was my fault in the first place, and I slept with one of our friends.

“Just enjoy the party, and I’ll be right here when you all come back.”

Camila leaned in, kissing me on my cheek. “We’ll get through this, Meg. I will see the smile on your face again. That’s a promise.”

I looked down at the water in the tub when Camila went back inside the room. I could hear them murmuring, and Camila telling them to leave me alone.

Watching them leaving with their husbands twinged a pang in my chest. I was always jealous of how their husbands cared and loved them like they were the only people ever existed on earth.

Sometimes, I wished I found a man who would treat me the way they were treated, but I thought that man was no longer exist.

“You must be Alan.” I sat on the bench beside the old man who had Forrest trusted his life for years. He was wearing a dark gray beret, staring at the kids playing laser guns.

I was reluctant when he called me earlier if we could meet in person, but I had no reason to turn him down. Perhaps, he could tell me about Forrest’s whereabouts or more likely if he’d been good at following steps of moving on. So here I was.

The weather seemed turned icy in the park. It was not because it was winter, but I was antsy of what he was about to say. It had been two weeks since Forrest left. And I had not heard anything from him since then.

“I’ve never met someone as focus, patient, and determined as Forrest. He reminded me of his father Milord. Then you came to the picture. I couldn’t say he became reckless. It was quite the opposite. Fascinating, I must say. In fact, I was happy that he found some time to himself.”

“Is this the moment when you say I should stay away from him?” I faced him. He had almost the same sharp eyes as Forrest. I looked toward the horizon when my chest fierce painfully.

“Forrest is over-particular when it comes to his security. He, his mother, and I are the only people have access to the main door. And him and his mother for his office and his room.”

“So?”

“Miss Hudson. Meadow can’t access to his room. His mother was inside his room, terrified about her son that she might not see him again. That’s why Meadow was there.”

“She paid me a little visit, and I might have prompted her.”

“I don’t think so. The gun was not meant to scare you or set you up. Meadow called me to help Forrest, but I trusted him that he would take extra precaution. And I promised not to intervene him, meeting his father. I couldn’t interfere with his plan even if it’s his mother’s wish. The least I could do was to inform Lady Myra Kentworthry.”

“So, the gun was for?”

“For precaution. But Forrest might have been with you at that time. Meadow was expecting Forrest would find the gun before he went to see his father.”

“I see.” I linked my fingers on my lap.

“Believe it or not. I was scared for him, for his mother, for myself, but I knew he wouldn’t stop until he met the person who had been haunting him since he was still a Young Forrest. He cares about you, Megan. Your ordeal has been causing him great pain. He never cares about anyone the way he does for you. That’s what I can assure you. He might have loved Meadow, but she is not the love of his life.”

I put on my decent dress and curled my new blonde-hair. I looked at my reflection in the mirror once again before I grabbed my purse. I should have been staying in the room, but it made me crazier, knowing they were having a great time at the party, and I was in this city, yet I was caging myself inside the four corners of this room.

I walked into the bar in the hotel lobby, and they call it a pub. The music was the Beatles’ classic. Emotion clogged in my throat, remembering Dad how he used to love this song.

“Hiya, what can I get for you, miss?” the cute bartender asked. His accent was attractive. What gave me the nosedive was he reminded me of Forrest.

“Whatever you have there. Thank you.” The noise from the corner had my gaze tipped to their direction. They were a bunch of guys around my age, all fit and looking rich.

“Those are our pride.”

“Who are they?” I asked the bartender. I noticed the guy wearing a white shirt tipped his glass. I turned to my left, and I was alone. I had to raise my drink to him in return.

“Ah, American, aye?”

“And you’re a Scot, aye?”

The bartender laughed. “That sounds terrible.”

“Sorry, it didn’t sound right to imitate your accent, but that’s pretty calling.”

“Aye. They’re our football players. Soccer.”

“I see. So they’re kinda a big deal around here.”

“Aye. Pretty big like Stephen Curry for basketball or Aaron Donald in your NFL. And I just got their autographs and a selfie.”

“Wow! So, they’re really a big deal.”

“Aye. So, what brings you to this beautiful city?” He placed down my Pimms.

“I’m with friends. They’re attending a party of our friend.”

“And you did not attend a party of your friend, why? You are supposed to be invited, as well.” He must have caught the reaction on my face. His lips curled up into a smirk, and his blue eyes twinkled.

“You’re nosy, you know.”

“My apology, miss.”

“It’s Megan.”

“Are all Americans fancied a name Megan, Megan?”

I gave him an incredulous look.

He laughed. “I did it again, did I? I am not this nosy, Megan. Just a pretty and intriguing woman just made me, I guess. I’m Henry, pleased to meet you.” He offered his hand for handshakes. I already knew his name. I read it on his nameplate a while ago.

“And Brits and Scots loved Henry, aye?” I shook his hand. “Am I wearing that neon light on my forehead?”

“You got me there.” He nodded with a full-blown smile. “And kind of.”

“Hi.” I stiffened to the voice behind me. When I turned around, his looks had my jaw dropped.