Our conversation lasted less than two minutes and I haven’t answered any of the subsequent seven calls he made or listened to the two messages he left in the past hour. I’d turn off my phone if not for the flicker of hope I have that Graham may call.
“Oh, honey.” April runs her hand up and down my back, her touch meant to comfort. “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing? You’re in love with Graham.”
“I’m breaking up with him precisely because I love him. I can’t let my father ruin his life again. What kind of girlfriend—person would that make me?”
“That’s not the way I meant it.” She gives me a small smile. “I mean can’t you talk to your father? Get him to stop?”
“Are you forgetting he already threatened to refile the charges? Something we were positive he wouldn’t do.”
She opens her mouth to speak before abruptly snapping it shut. Her second effort is more successful. “I really thought he was bluffing. I still can’t believe he contacted your boss.”
“Which is why I had to break up with him. Who the hell knows what my father will do next. It’s like I never knew him. Not really.” It’s hard to believe that there was a time in my life when I thought he could do no wrong. Growing up, my dad was my hero, now he’s a supervillain to rival the ages.
April continues to rub circles on my back. “I know things seem hopeless right now, but I have a feeling everything will work out. Between you and Graham, and between you and your dad. You can’t go the rest of your life not speaking to your father.”
“Watch me,” I reply with a sniff.
With not much else to say, we lapse into silence, her circling motions slowly turning into gentle pats until her hand drifts away.
The humming vibration of my phone breaks the quiet. Since it’s closer to April on the bed, she picks it up and glances at the screen. “It’s your mom.”
“My dad must have called her. Gimme. I may as well get it over with,” I say, holding out my hand.
April hands me the vibrating phone as she rises from my bed. “Give me a shout if you need me.”
A fleeting smile of gratitude crosses my lips as she exits the room.
I answer and put the phone to my ear. “Hi, Mom.”
Chapter 33
I’m not prepared to deal with it when it happens.
Seeing Emily.
The Monday two weeks after she broke up with me.
Despite telling myself that I need to forget her, I look for her before class. Not to talk, just to see her. It’s almost a relief that I don’t see her in the cluster of students filing into the room across the hall. Makes it easier to move on. I didn’t see her the week before and the pain in my chest hasn’t worsened. Although, it hasn’t lessened either.
Missing Emily is nothing like it had been the last time. Four years ago, anger and betrayal had masked the longing and hurt. Today, I can’t be angry that she chose the path of least resistance. I mean, what had I offered her? Nothing.
I’m not sure whether it’s fortune or bad luck when I step out into the hall an hour and a half later and spot her exiting her class. She doesn’t see me at first, giving me a few moments to drink in the sight of her.
Wearing a cream down jacket, a cable jumper and light-blue jeans, she’s as gorgeous as ever. Then as if she feels my stare, she looks up from buckling the strap on her purse.
Our eyes meet, hers growing wide as her expression becomes stricken. Our gazes lock and it’s as if the world falls away. Several seconds go by before the corners of her mouth edge up. But her eyes remain in stark contrast to the tentative smile that seems forced on her lips. Lips I’ll never kiss again.
The thought is enough to make me break all visual contact. Cruelly and abruptly. Call it self-preservation. I quickly make my way to the stairs, taking them two at a time, each step echoing one undeniable truth: it’s over. Which is why I never look back.
How am I supposed to know whether I’m having a panic attack or if my lungs have actually collapsed?
Hours after seeing Graham, I’m still trying to catch my breath and get my bearings. My goal is to try to go a day without being reduced to tears.
Still waiting.
Time is supposed to be the big healer but right now, it’s my mortal enemy. Instead of it getting easier, things have only gotten worse: the tear jags, the melancholy, and the widespread misery.
I’m still getting over the shock my system had taken when I looked across the hall to find him watching me. He was standing outside his classroom as if he were waiting for me to come out of mine. At least that’s what I want to believe. In the seconds we spent staring at each other, I searched his face for a sign—any sign—that he was as happy to see me as I was him. And as miserable without me as I have been without him. I hadn’t gotten an answer. Instead, he bolted and got the hell out of there, his tall frame retreating down the hall before disappearing in the stairwell.
It’s not that I hadn’t known the chances of seeing him weren’t higher than average, but seeing him after so long had been too much to take. I left the building shaken and arrived home an emotional, weeping wreck.
I’ve done my best to hold it together when Troy and April are around but they know I’m having a hard time dealing with the breakup.
As for my dad, he stopped calling a week ago, the one and only time I answered his call. My final words to him had been short and simple: Leave me alone. And I told him in no uncertain terms not to come to my apartment or to my school. If I had to, I’d take out a restraining order on him and claim harassment or stalking, or whatever. Unfortunately, my mom picked up where he left off, begging me not to be judge, jury and executioner. How ironic. Isn’t that what my dad had been to Graham four years ago and now?
“How are you doing?” Kelsey asks, soft concern reflected in her eyes. I told her what happened last week during a crying jag when she’d come by to borrow eggs for the brownies she decided to bake at ten o’clock on a Friday night. Misery doesn’t only love company, but it also has a sweet tooth and is addicted to chocolate. Because she knew I’d be alone tonight, she stopped by with a plate full of no-bake chocolate coconut cookies. Mine sits half eaten on a plate on the coffee table. My appetite’s been a problem the last couple weeks.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I mumble, meeting her gaze and then dropping mine to my lap.
Stretched on the couch beside me, Kelsey’s wearing stretchy jeans, a thick, Fair Isle sweater and matching socks. I envy how she’s able to wear her misery so much better than I am.
“Men suck,” she blurts out.
I raise my eyes to her. Maybe not as well as I first thought. And that’s when it occurs to me that she’s probably here as much to commiserate as to keep from falling further into the doldrums.
“Graham doesn’t suck.” If he did, I wouldn’t be so in love with him. I wouldn’t miss him so damn much.
Since Kelse can’t dispute that, she mutters, “Okay, then Alex sucks.”
I offer her a wan smile. “He has no idea what he’s missing.”
Kelsey huffs a breath. “Oh he knows, he just doesn’t want it.”
“Well that’s his loss.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself. I’ll let you know when I believe it,” she says wryly. “Have you thought about what you’d do if Graham started dating someone else?”
Pain, the likes I haven’t felt in a long time, slices through me. It takes me a second to recover. “I wouldn’t want to know.”
“Well, Alex is seeing someone. I found out tonight.”
I take in the sadness in her eyes and my heart aches for her. At least I’m not dealing with that—at least not now. And if I’m lucky, I’ll never have to, even if it means never seeing Graham again.
“Oh God, Kelse, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
She gives me a sad smile. “How would you? The only reason I know is because Maggie told me.” Looking down, she studies her fingernails. “Her name is Sarah with an h. They
’re out on a date tonight.”
That explains the late-night visit and the chocolate. I want to tell her things will get better but given the way I feel right now, the sentiment will sound hollow.
“Sarah’s a horrible name.” Of course I don’t mean it but isn’t this what friendship is all about.
“I know, right?”
I’m rewarded with her thank you for lying to me look.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” I reply and tuck my bare feet under me, angling toward her.
“You said you broke up with Graham for his own good, right?”
I nod.
Kelsey’s gaze is probing as she silently watches me.
“What?” I ask, emitting a nervous laugh.
“Do you know what I think?”
To be honest, I don’t want to know. I have a feeling I’m not going to like it. “What do you think, Kelse?”
“I think you did it for you too. Because you wanted to be the one to walk away this time. I think you were afraid he wouldn’t think you were worth all the problems he’d have to endure to be with you. And I don’t think you wanted to put that to the test.”
Wow. My friend is beautiful and insightful. Virginity be damned, Alex is a fool to let her get away.
Pulling a cushion against my chest, I peek at her from beneath the veil of my lashes. “That may have been part of the reason, but I really was looking out for him. This time I wasn’t going to be selfish. I wanted to do what’s best for him, and me not being in his life is what’s best.”
“And you don’t think you should have shared that with him? Your fears?”
I let out a humorless laugh. After what he went through the last time? There’s no way he’d knowingly choose to deal with this shit to be with me. “Kelse, I know what you’re thinking, but this isn’t a romance novel or a movie where the girl gets her man in the end. Anyway, Graham didn’t exactly put up a fight when I suggested we break up. I gave him an out and he took it.”
And God, that hurts.
Her mouth turns down at the corners.
I pat the leg closest to me. “Don’t be sad. And don’t worry, I did the right thing.”
Kelsey lets out a long sigh. “Doing the right thing isn’t always easy, is it?”
I reach over and pluck my half-eaten snack off the plate. “No, it isn’t. But thank God for chocolate.”
Chapter 34
Work isn’t the same without Emily. Nothing is the same without her, and I hate the new normal that is my life. School and work, that’s all I have. And both have become a grind, duties I now tolerate.
Tonight, I’m looking forward to a full night’s sleep. If I can manage it. Lately, nights haven’t been kind to me. Emily’s out of my bed but she’s been haunting my dreams.
“I saw Emily yesterday,” Blake says casually before draining the last of his beer and setting the empty bottle on the bar.
At the sound of her name, my pulse jumps and I give him my full attention. He’d shown up an hour ago and only recently snagged a stool at the bar.
His gaze is knowing as he regards me, waiting for me to ask the question he knows I want to ask. But I won’t give him the satisfaction, hardening my resolve. So what if he saw her and I haven’t in weeks. It doesn’t change anything. She’s out of my life. By choice. Hers.
“You want another one?” I ask, ignoring his remark, and discarding his beer bottle in the recycling bin under the bar. Blake’s been home the last couple weekends, claiming he’s taking a break from women. I don’t buy it. Especially when he’d spent his forty-five minutes here chatting up two blondes.
“No, I’m good,” he replies, holding up his hand. “Aren’t you the least bit curious of how she’s doing?”
I grab a damp cloth and wipe away the rings on the bar top in front of me. “You talked to her?” I ask, my tone skeptical.
“No, she was in line at Wegman’s. She didn’t see me. But I have to say, she looked miserable as fuck.”
The ever-present ache in my chest expands, and I don’t know whether to be happy or sad.
“Maybe I was wrong about her not being good for you.”
Coming from him, that’s a huge admission. But I don’t respond.
“Seriously, you’re miserable as fuck too, and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to take you moping around the apartment like your dog died.”
Blake’s all heart. It’s a wonder he hasn’t put Hallmark out of business.
“I don’t want to talk about her, okay.” I think about her every day and dream about her almost every night. That’s enough.
From the corner of my eye, I see a man approaching the bar. I’m not serving drinks (except to my pesky best friend) and turn to direct him down to Jason’s side of the bar.
My speech stalls when I get a good look at him.
Holy shit.
Standing in front of me is none other than Richard Leighton. Emily’s father. And it takes everything in me not to punch him in that arrogant face of his.
“Mr. Prescott,” he says with a nod.
“Mr. Leighton.” My tone flirts the line of open hostility.
“The woman by the door said I’d find you here.”
He sounds pretty civilized for a monster. Dresses pretty decently too, clad in a dark, charcoal suit and a black trench coat.
Mr. Leighton glances at Blake, who’s looking at him with raised brows. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, returning his gaze to me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask curtly.
“I’d appreciate if you could give me a few minutes of your time.”
So fucking polite. The total opposite of when he’d spoken to me at the jail.
“I’m going to make sure your ass rots in here. You’re going to wish to God you’d never set eyes on my daughter.”
At Blake’s quizzical stare, I perform the honors. “Blake, this is Emily’s father.”
Blake’s expression immediately hardens but that doesn’t dissuade Mr. Leighton from grasping his hand and enclosing it in a brief handshake.
“Nice to meet you, Blake. I hope you don’t mind if I have a private word with Mr. Prescott.”
This guy has some fucking gall. I mean, walking in here like he owns the place. Gall.
“I can wait until you get off of work if now’s not convenient,” he offers when he doesn’t get a response.
In the end, it comes down to one thing: he’s Emily’s father.
“We can talk in my office,” I say grudgingly.
As if that signaled his cue to leave, Blake stands up and catches my eye. “I’ll see you at the apartment.”
I respond with a tip of my chin and then let Ian and Jason know I’ll be in the back.
Mr. Leighton waits silently as I exit from behind the bar.
What the hell does he want? That’s the question rattling around in my head. But not a word passes between us as he follows me through the crowd amassed around the hall entrance and to my office.
At the door, I wave him in and then close it behind him.
He takes a quick look around, his expression impassive. I’m sure this is a far cry from what he’s used to; a posh corner office with a decent view.
I gesture at the only extra seat available. “Would you like to sit?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve been sitting most of the day.”
Wonderful. I guess that means I’m going to have to stand now too. I brace against my desk, fold my arms across my chest and wait.
“I’m just going to come out and say it. I don’t want to lose my daughter, but I’m afraid I’ve already lost her.”
I was half afraid he’d come to chew me out so this is better than I expected.
He exhales heavily. “I have done a number of things in my life I’m not proud of. Like threatening to refile the charges against you. I told Emily that I might, but I didn’t and I wouldn’t,” he adds hastily, no doubt responding to the apoplectic l
ook on my face. “But I did not send that email to your boss,” he states unequivocally, his gaze unwavering as he looks into my eyes.
It takes me a few seconds to fully grasp what he’s saying. The bastard.
“You threatened to have me arrested and thrown in jail again? Do you have any idea what you’ve done to Emily? Or do you even care?” This makes the email thing look like child’s play.
He has a difficult time meeting my gaze, a red slash of guilt riding high along his cheekbones. “I care, which is why I’m here. I love my daughter. She means everything to me. And I assure you, I wouldn’t have done it. The current district attorney wouldn’t have brought the case. I was trying to scare her.”
It would have scared the shit out of me too. It never occurred to me that the charges could be refiled. That such a possibility exists chills me to the bone.
As if sensing my thoughts, he says, “You never have to worry about that—the charges ever being brought up again. I’ve had the files expunged. There is no record of charges ever being brought against you. No paper or electronic trail exists. It’s as if it never happened. I received confirmation of it yesterday.”
My butt hits the desk and I take a deep breath. “Does Emily know?”
He shakes his head. “No. I don’t want to go to her empty-handed. I wanted to be able to say I’d made peace with you, that way hopefully she wouldn’t take out a restraining order against me.” At the last bit, a wry smile touches his lips.
“Is that what she threatened to do?” I ask, faintly amused.
“Oh, it wasn’t a threat. It was a promise and one I wouldn’t put past her.”
Me either.
A thought occurs to me. “If you didn’t send the email, who did?”
“I don’t know.” He looks genuinely perplexed. “And that’s the honest to God truth. I don’t know. I didn’t do it and I certainly didn’t put anyone else up to it.”
I exhale through my mouth, not sure if this is good or bad news. Because if not him, then it’s got to be his son.
“I need your help.”
I let out a low startled laugh of disbelief. “Why would I help you?”
Forever With You Page 30
