Stay With Me

by Kristen Proby

  “It doesn’t change the fact that she was married when I met her, and she didn’t tell me. Even knowing the way I feel about marriage, she didn’t say anything.”

  Archer holds up his hands. “All I’m saying is give her a chance to talk before you decide to cut her off for good. And now, I’m out of it. Good luck, man.”

  He jogs back over to the truck, and I climb into my car.

  She did text and call, and I didn’t respond. There wasn’t anything to say that hadn’t already been said.

  I quickly scroll through her texts. It’s mostly, please talk to me.

  There’s one voicemail that I haven’t listened to. I hit play.

  Hey, it’s me. Again. I can’t get you to talk to me, so I’m going to try to quickly explain some things in this voicemail. I don’t know how long I can talk before it cuts me off, but here I go.

  I didn’t intentionally lie to you, Wyatt. I am divorced, and I can show you the papers if you want to see them. Vinnie contested because he wasn’t happy with the settlement amount. I’ve made a lot of money in the past few years, and he thought he should have more, even though he’d been verbally abusive and mean to me for a long time. He hated my job, like I told you.

  Anyway, months after the divorce was final, I got a letter saying that it wasn’t final, and that we’d be going back to court. I met with my attorney, and she recommended I get out of L.A. for a while so she could handle the legal stuff.

  And then I met you.

  And I fell in love with you.

  She sniffles.

  I was so happy and busy being with you that I never even thought about Vinnie and his stupid contest case. It had been such a long and difficult divorce that I was just happy to be with my family and with this amazing man who loved me back, the way I deserve to be loved.

  I do love you, Wyatt. But I’m going to leave you be now because you clearly don’t want to hear from me. All I ask is, if you cared for me even a little bit, please let me talk to you in person so I can apologize and explain. Please don’t let this be something that he takes from me, too.

  Okay. Bye.

  The message ends, and I blow out a breath and toss my phone onto the seat next to me. Am I being stubborn? Ridiculous?

  Is there a grey area here?

  I start the car and drive to the restaurant where I’m meeting my brothers. They’re both already there, and there’s a beer waiting for me.

  “I need this.” I take a long sip.

  “You still look like shit,” Jace says.

  “Thanks. I feel like shit.”

  “Have you seen her?” Levi asks.

  “Do we have to talk about this? Don’t either of you have something else to discuss? A woman? Work? Something?”

  “I don’t,” Jace says and looks at Levi. “You?”

  “Nope, I’m good.”

  “You both suck.” I sigh. “No, I haven’t seen her. I have no idea what’s going on with her. Because she fucking lied to me.”

  But for the first time, doubt has planted itself in my head.

  “What are you thinking?” Levi asks. I tell them about my encounter with Archer, and the voicemail from Amelia.

  “Huh,” Jace says.

  “So, she doesn’t necessarily have a lovesick husband pining away for her,” Levi points out.

  “And she’s most likely divorced now. Again,” Jace adds.

  “Yes.”

  I drink more of my beer.

  “You know,” Jace begins, “you keep punishing her for Cruella’s fuck-ups. Maybe you shouldn’t be together.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, but he keeps talking.

  “I’m not saying that to be a dick. You know I saw Lia a few days after it all went down, and she told me quite a bit. I think she needed to explain it all to someone, and you wouldn’t hear her.”

  I swallow, guilt sitting heavily in my stomach.

  “And I think Cruella really fucked you up, man,” Jace continues. “I get it, she’s a selfish bitch, and what she pulled isn’t cool. But Lia isn’t her. And she may have screwed up, but she wants to make it right.”

  “I fucked up,” I say and drain the last of my beer.

  “I think you both fucked up,” Levi says.

  “I wouldn’t listen to her. I didn’t let her talk.”

  “Okay, you fucked up more,” he replies with a shrug.

  “If you’re going to keep punishing her for what your ex did, you don’t deserve her,” Jace says. “Because that shit isn’t fair.”

  “She knew from the beginning how I felt about marriage and infidelity,” I reply. “I was always honest about that.”

  “And in her head, she was divorced,” Levi replies. “Because she was. And the ex was being a jerk and making it harder for her.”

  “I get it,” Jace adds with a shrug. “I would flip my shit if I was in love with someone and I found out she was still legally married.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Levi agrees. “I might kill someone. I can make it look like an accident.”

  “But now that you’re cooled off, maybe it’s time to listen to her,” Jace says.

  “You know, we always think of you as the class clown,” I say to Jace. “But I guess that Ivy League education did its job.”

  “I’m smarter than I look,” he says proudly. “I have certificates and everything.”

  “You’re such a dork,” Levi says with a laugh.

  “I need to talk to her,” I say and then sigh. “I hope it’s not too late.”

  “All you can do is try,” Levi says.

  “I’m leaving. Sorry, guys, I don’t want to wait.”

  “Go.”

  I rush out of the restaurant and to my car. The drive home is longer than I’d like and seems to take forever.

  The moving truck is gone now, and the house is quiet. I park in my own driveway and hurry over to her front door. I ring the bell and wait.

  Nothing.

  I ring it again and knock.

  Still nothing.

  Frustrated, I walk around the house, but there’s no movement inside, just boxes stacked all over the place.

  I return to the front door and pound on it one more time in case she’s upstairs or something.

  Just as I’m about to leave, Natalie and Jules pull into the driveway.

  “What do you want?” Jules asks as they approach me.

  “Where’s Amelia?”

  “She’s not here,” Jules replies, and Natalie rolls her eyes.

  “She’s still in L.A.,” Nat says.

  “What the hell, Nat?” Jules demands.

  “This is none of our business, and you went through something very similar and, well, it worked out for you, didn’t it?”

  “Still.” Jules glares at me. “Okay, I hate it when she’s right.”

  “When will she be back?” I ask Natalie.

  “In a few days,” she replies and props her hands on her hips, studying me.

  “How much do you know?”

  “Enough to know that you’re kind of a dick,” Jules says, and I can only hang my head and laugh ruefully.

  “Yeah, I’ve been a bit of a dick.”

  “No, I’d say a big dick. A giant ol’ dick.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “And contrary to popular belief, women don’t like a giant dick. And I don’t like that you made Lia cry, you insensitive ass.”

  “I mean, there were two of us there, so I don’t think this is all my fault.”

  “No, she was dumb, too. But you’re not my cousin, so I’m really pissed off at you.” She steps to me and pushes her finger into my chest. “You fucked with someone I love, Wyatt Crawford.”

  “What would you like for me to do?”

  I don’t flick her finger off of me or even move. She’s on fire.

  “Fix it,” she says simply and backs up. “You need to fucking fix it.”

  “I’d like to.”

  Natalie’s smiling in that serene way she does. I swear, she’s the calmest pe
rson I’ve ever met in my life.

  “It’s going to work out,” she says with a nod. “Now, we have to meet with the insurance adjuster really quick regarding my studio. Lia will be here in a few days.”

  “Thanks.”

  I turn to walk away, but Jules steps in front of me, scowling. “Don’t fuck it up, Wyatt. I like you.”

  “Despite the fact that I’m a giant dick?”

  “I think we can work with that.”

  She walks away, and I laugh as I saunter back to my house. I haven’t felt this hopeful in more than two weeks.

  I pull out my phone and decide to send Amelia a quick text.

  Hey. Drive safely home. I’d like to see you when you get here.

  My thumb hovers for a moment, and then I decide . . . fuck it.

  I love you.

  I hit send.

  ~Amelia~

  “This passenger seat is comfy.” We’ve been on the road for a few hours, and Anastasia offered to drive for the first leg since my head was still full of information from my business meetings. “Do you want snacks yet?”

  “No. Did you happen to notice that your snacks look like a seven-year-old was set free in the candy and chip aisle with a hundred bucks?”

  “As it should be on a road trip,” I reply with a laugh. “Road trips are for junk food.”

  “For someone getting over a man, you sure are eating a lot. When I’m sad, I don’t eat anything at all.”

  “I’m the opposite. I eat everything in sight. I can’t help it.” I sigh and open a can of Pringles, then pop a sour cream and onion chip into my mouth. “These are my favorite.”

  “Tell me what they said in your meeting.”

  “Okay.” I swallow and take a drink of my orange soda. “They showed me the photographs that we took the other day, and they actually turned out really great. They emailed them to me, so I’ll pull them up and show you in a minute. They’re putting together a full campaign, and get this: Sephora wants to exclusively sell all of the products.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” she says, staring at me in awe. “As in, the Sephora in pretty much every mall in America?”

  “That’s the one.” I nod and feel tears prick my eyes again. “This is big, girl. Like, bigger than anything I could have imagined. YouTube made me a millionaire, but this . . . This could make me wealthier than I ever thought possible.”

  “Goddamn it, you’re going to make me cry,” she says and wipes at her eye. “Seriously, Lia, this is so damn great. When will we be able to buy it in the store?”

  “If all goes well, next month.” I pass her a tissue and keep one to dab my own eyes. “I’ll do a small tour, showing up at stores to do makeup tutorials and sign headshots.”

  “Wow,” she says, shaking her head. “My sister is way cooler than me. And I’m totally okay with that.”

  I laugh and lean over to kiss her cheek. She doesn’t even rub it off this time.

  “We will have to throw a party when it launches in Seattle.”

  “You’ll need cake,” she says excitedly. “So just tell me when, and I’ll clear those days so I’m only making a cake for you. And Nic can cover the cupcakes.”

  “Yesss, that’ll be awesome. You could decorate it with little lipsticks and eyeshadow palates that look like Amelia Cosmetics.”

  “This is gonna be fun,” she replies with a little shimmy just as my phone pings with a text.

  “Holy shit. Wyatt just texted me.”

  She glances at me in surprise. “Well, read it. Aloud.”

  I read his message to myself first. If I weren’t in the car, I would have come out of my seat. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “That’s what he said?”

  “No.” I read it to her. “Now he’s concerned? Now, he wants to throw I love you around? What a jerk. I’m blocking his number.”

  “You know, you guys are a bit too much drama for me,” Stasia says with a yawn.

  “I tried to talk to him for days. I tried everything, Anastasia. And he was having none of it. And now, out of nowhere, he sends me this? As if nothing has happened? What kind of mind game is he playing here?”

  “And these are the days of our lives,” she mutters, shifting in her seat. “Call him and ask him, Lia. Because I don’t have the answer to any of those questions.”

  “Why are you such a bitch?” I demand, giving her the stink eye and shoving about four chips into my mouth. “This is why I don’t tell you things.”

  She laughs and then shakes her head at me. “I’m being honest. I agree, it’s weird that he’s texting you out of the blue. How does he even know that you’re driving back today?”

  “I don’t know.” I frown. “Who’s he talking to?”

  “Call the man.”

  “I already blocked his number.”

  “Unblock it and call him. You wanted him to talk, well, he’s talking.”

  “No.” I toss my phone into my handbag and reach for another chip. “I know, I’m being stupid, but that pissed me off. I’m not texting him or calling him.”

  “Well, then stop talking about him because it’s really annoying.”

  “We should drive through wine country,” I say, changing the subject. Mostly, I want to get my mind off of Wyatt. I’d already decided that I’m moving forward without him, and damn it, I’m sticking to that. I don’t care if he’s tall and sexy with the most tender hazel eyes I’ve ever seen. Or if his hair feels like silk in my fingers. Or if he makes me feel smart and clever when we talk for hours on end.

  I can do this without him.

  “I thought you wanted to get home as soon as possible,” she replies, reaching for some of my Pringles. “The fastest route is to stick to the freeway.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I have a bunch of unpacking and avoiding a sexy man ahead of me.”

  “Are you going to be able to live in that house with him right across the street?”

  I frown and drink more orange soda. “Of course. I’m a grown woman. I don’t have to look at him. I’ll avoid him.”

  No, I’m not sure I’ll be okay. But I’m going to do my best.

  “Uh-huh.” She rolls her eyes. “Good luck with that.”

  I don’t know if I’ve ever felt exhaustion on this level. Even after I left Vinnie, I don’t think I was this weary.

  Jules and Anastasia just left after spending all last night helping me unpack my boxes. Anastasia still hasn’t been home since we pulled into my driveway yesterday afternoon.

  Instead, we called Jules, and she came over to help us plow through the boxes and get most of everything situated so I can get back to regular life again. I owe them both, big time.

  Perhaps a shopping trip is in our near future. I’ll reward all of our hard work.

  I grin, plant my hands on my hips, and gaze around the space. It feels amazing to have my own things here, mingled with a few of the pieces that Jules and Nate bought months ago when I first arrived.

  And now that they’re gone, and the bulk of the work is finished, I’m not entirely sure what to do with myself.

  I glance into the kitchen, and to the pool area beyond, and feel a grin spread across my face.

  Check that. I do know what I want to do.

  I hurry and pour a glass of tea, reach into the fridge and grab my cucumber eye mask. I pull an ice pack out of the freezer and carry everything to my favorite chaise lounge by the water.

  It’s late enough in the day that most of the patio is in the shade so I don’t have to worry about getting too much sun. I can totally nap right here if I want.

  And trust me, I want.

  I take a sip of the cold tea, then settle back on the lounge with the ice pack against the back of my neck. I lay the cucumber mask over my eyes and let my body relax into the chair, soaking up the quiet. The calm.

  It’s absolute heaven.

  I’m just drifting to sleep when I hear the doorbell. I know it’s not my family; I’ve already spoken to most of them this morn
ing. Anastasia just went home to crash.

  No, I know who it is.

  And he and his sexy doorbell can just fuck right off.

  Wait, it’s my doorbell. I clearly need a nap.

  I’m just about to fall asleep again when I hear his footsteps coming onto the patio.

  “I don’t know why he thinks he can just walk onto my property, like I want to see him,” I mutter aloud, not moving.

  “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice gruff.

  “I blocked your number. I can’t hear you,” I reply. If I let him stay, if I look at him, I’ll want him. I’ll soften and want him to stay, not just for today, but for always. And he hurt me.

  My God, he hurt me.

  “Are you going to give me a chance to speak with you?” he asks, and I frown.

  “Doesn’t feel good when the shoe is on the other foot, does it?”

  “Amelia, look at me.”

  I sit up and let the mask fall to my lap, the ice to the seat of the chair, and scowl at him.

  Fucking hell, he looks amazing. His hair is a mess, his face scruffy, and it looks like he hasn’t slept in a week.

  “Who do you think you are?” I demand and stand so I can look him square in the eye. It seems that despite my exhaustion, I’m not too tired for this.

  Because I need to stand up for myself.

  “I tried to talk to you for days to explain everything, and you wouldn’t listen. You wouldn’t reply. It was like beating my head against a brick wall.”

  “I know,” he says and shoves his hands into his pockets, his eyes hungrily eating me up. “I fucked up, Amelia.”

  “Yeah. You did.” I turn away and stand at the edge of the pool, watching a leaf float on the water. “I don’t even know where to start with you. You say you want me to talk to you, but how can I when I’m afraid that I’ll say the wrong thing, and you’ll just get pissed and leave again?”

  “I’m here, and I’m not leaving,” he says. He’s moved closer to me, and chills ripple down my back. “I listened to your voicemail.”

  “When?” I whirl around and cross my arms over my chest. “When did you listen to it?”