Oh my gosh! I'm so, so, so sorry for the wait!! But this chapter is long, so enjoy and review! I promise I'll update quicker!!

Angel's Truth

When I woke up, Warren had already left, but he'd left a sweet present for me. A single red rose sat on the pillow next to me. I inhaled the perfect smell of the flower and decided to head downstairs to get a vase. Even though Warren had assured me many times that nobody would ever come to this house, I still put on a pair of pajama pants he'd bought for me and headed down the stairs.

About halfway down the staircase, I could have sworn I heard voices from the living room.

"What do we do about this?"

"What do you mean what should we do? We end it! Now, and if Warren won't do it, I'll do it for him."

"Should we at least wait until that man wakes up?"

"No, I can't wait anymore. That boy is my son, and he has no right running around with random men when he's about to be married. Especially men, I mean, that's sick. OK, men, let's wake him up."

"I'm already awake," I said firmly, as three men came into my view, as I strolled into the room.

"Young man, please be so kind to inform us why the hell you are here?" One of them, Warren's father, demanded.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"This is my house, son. I knew that boy was fooling around. That's why he was always here," Mr. Worthington muttered under his breath.

"Fooling around?" I asked.

"Well you can't expect me to believe this is a serious affair?" he scoffed, "Warren is engaged, to Darla Winters, he had been for over four months!"

"I don't believe you," I said.

Warren's father grabbed the TV remote and licked the television on. He flipped around a few stations and finally settled on a gossip news show.

"Warren Worthington the III, son of the richest man in New York City, will be tying the knot this weekend, to Darla Winters, a famous fashion model. The wedding is being planned by Warren's mother and paid for by none other then dear old dad. The service is this Saturday, and I'll are invited."

"Do you get the picture now, boy?" Mr. Worthington said, "You were just his entertainment, his fun, his last rebellion against me, before he got married. You are probably just here to piss me off."

I hated to believe it. It hurt. Badly.

"So why don't you," Mr. Worthington continued, "pack your things and go."

Without another word, I headed for the stairs. I couldn't believe it, or, I didn't want to, but it had to be true. From the time I'd spent with Warren, he didn't seem like the screw around type guy, and defiantly didn't seem like a liar. Warren had told me he loved him. Was any of it even real?

No! It had to be. Warren was mine. He was my angel. And now…he was with some rich female, that probably only cared about his trust fund.

I didn't have much crap, and it was easy to pack. I raced back down the stairs and walked out the door, without exchanging anymore words with the three men. As I stepped into the outdoors, I felt a slight trickle coming down. Great! It was raining.

As it started to pour harder, I started to run. I didn't know why. I didn't even know where I was going! But one thing made me stop- freeze in place.

He was calling me. And as I turned, sure enough, Warren stood there, starring at me, his shirt soaked to his body.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"When were you gonna tell me- about Darla?" I asked.

Warren looked shocked, "Darla? She's just some girl-"

"That you're getting married to," I finished.

"That was my dad's choice," he tried to explain. Bull shit.

"So you were just gonna do it?" I growled.

"No! Of course not, I love you," he said.

"That's crap! You never stand up to your father," I said, "You just obey."

"That's not fair," he said.

"No, this isn't fair, to me. Why would you even waste your time if you were engaged?"

"I don't even know her, she's my dad's friend's daughter, she doesn't matter."

"Whatever Warren," I took a deep breath. Here it came, "We're done."

"Wh-hat?" he stuttered, freezing in the rain.

"It. Is. Over." Wow, he actually looked hurt. But not as badly as me. My heart was broken.

And then everything froze, as well as us, as he dropped a single blue velvet box from his hand, and it fell innocently to the floor.

"You were gonna propose?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"What does it matter now, we're done," he said.

"Fine," I said, turning around and walking away from him.

Away from the only thing that ever mattered.