Felicity's P.O.V.
A few minutes into talking and laughing, Nathan said,
"I told you I'm going to love you—I already love you, princess."
I smiled, touching his cheek.
"So cute," I said, but he frowned.
"Oh, sorry—I meant so hot," I corrected, and we both laughed, while Isla rolled her eyes.
"I like you too, Miss Felicity," Isla said.
"Oh, thank you, my cutie pie," I replied.
Just then, my phone rang.
"Please excuse me, I need to take this call," I said, heading to the living room.
It was my mom.
"Hey Mom, are you here yet?" I asked.
"Yes, I am, Ninu. I arrived a few minutes ago. Are you on your way? There's someone here to see you. It's an emergency—come quick," she said and hung up.
'Who could she be talking about?' I wondered.
I returned to the dining area.
"I'm so sorry, everyone, but I have to go. Something came up. Dinner was great. Penelope I'll see you tomorrow—call me!"
"Let me walk you out," Penelope offered.
I hugged Nate and Isla goodbye, and they both gave me a peck on the cheek.
"Goodbye, Felicity," they chorused.
Penelope walked me to the door, but I insisted she go back to dinner. I rushed to the gate, caught a taxi, and headed straight home.
When I arrived, the door was ajar. To my surprise, Chris was there.
I went in and greeted Mom.
"Hey Mom, I missed you so much," I said, kissing her cheeks and hugging her.
"Okay, okay. I missed you too, honey—but we have a problem. This guy has been here for a while, calling your name nonstop. When I opened the door, he stood up, hugged me, and said:
'You must be Felicity's mom. She told me you were coming today. Can you be my mother too? Because I love your daughter.'"
From the way he spoke and the smell of alcohol, I could tell he'd been drinking. I felt pity for him and let him inside. That's when I decided to call you. Sorry for the disturbance," she explained.
"It's okay, Mom, don't worry. Chris never drinks—something must be wrong. He said he loves me, but it's just an illusion. I'm so sorry about this on your first day visiting. I'll take him to sober up and try talking to him. It might take a while," I said.
"I don't know how it'll go. Maybe well, maybe not. Just take care of yourself, sweetheart," she replied.
"I will. Don't wait for me," I said.
I took Chris out. It was 9:30 p.m., and I felt embarrassed and angry.
We walked to the coffee shop where Chris worked, hoping some caffeine might help him sober up.
The place was empty except for the night shift staff. We sat in a booth, and I ordered hot coffee for us.
"Oh Fel, I missed you so much—I want you," he slurred. His breath reeked of alcohol.
"So pathetic," I muttered under my breath.
The waiter brought our coffee.
"Thank you so much," I said.
"My pleasure. We're closing soon, so please wrap it up," he replied with a smile.
"Chris, drink that coffee and sober up, for goodness' sake," I snapped.
"Do you... know... that I love... you too... from the first... day I met you," he said, hiccuping.
"Oh, Chris... Why did you have to get drunk?" I whispered.
I finished my coffee, but he hadn't touched his. His head was on the table, eyes closed. The waiter came again to remind us they were closing.
"Chris, come on—drink your coffee so we can leave," I said, shaking him.
He suddenly sat up and looked at me.
"I told you, I don't like coffee.
Didn't I?" he said, totally clear headed.
"You never told me that! How can you work in a coffee shop and not drink coffee? Ugh, never mind. Let's go—they're closing, and it's already 10 p.m."
"Yes, let's go talk somewhere else," he said with no sign of drunkenness. I stared at him, shocked.
"Why are you so surprised? Isn't it obvious I'm not drunk? I did this so you'd come with me. I knew you wouldn't listen if I just asked to talk," he said.
"So you lied to me? Faked all this? I can't believe you stooped so low. I don't want to talk to you, or even look at you right now. I'm so disappointed," I replied, furious.
I stood up, left money on the table, and walked toward the door.
"Felicity, please wait!" he called.
As I opened the door, I turned to him.
"Thanks for ruining my night," I said before walking out.
**********
Christopher's P.O.V.
When she left, I followed.
She walked down the cold, quiet street, shivering with fear and cold. I felt terrible—I never should've done this.
As she walked, lost in thought, I followed from about five feet behind. Then, footsteps began echoing behind her—more than just mine.
She sped up, sensing danger. Only a few blocks from her apartment, she tried to get there fast—but then a group of thugs cornered her.
"Hey gorgeous, you shouldn't be walking alone. It's dangerous," one said, touching her shoulder.
"And who says I can't protect myself?" she said, slapping his hand away.
"Ooh, spicy. I like it," another said, grabbing her arm.
"Let me go or else—" she began, but a third thug interrupted,
"Or else what?"
That's when I stepped in.
"Or else I'll break your bones," I said.
They turned and saw me emerge from the shadows. She looked relieved.
"Hey, look! Superman's here to save the day," one mocked.
I walked toward them.
"I won't let any of you touch her. You better leave."
I know she likes it when a guy shows strength—especially with an accent. But she can be really stubborn.
"I don't need you to fight my battles, Chris," she said, sounding defiant.
"You heard her. Now leave, chap," one thug said.
"Okay, you're so annoying," I muttered, pretending to walk away—then ducked into hiding.