“I thought you may be upset because I'm leaving you and won't see you as much.”
“Sounds like as good a reason as any to have mandatory girls' days.” She loops her arm through mine and we begin walking. “We could make it Sundays since Emerson has the guys over for football. You can always invite me over to hang out too. Or you could come hang out with me at the dorm. I'm not worried about that, Eva. We're best friends and need each other too much. When are you moving in with him?”
“Officially? After the semester ends, but I'll probably be over there more in the meantime. How bad is it that I'm probably more excited about putting some life into his place than moving in with him?”
Catherine laughs. “Sounds like we know what we're shopping for today!”
She leads me toward a store full of a home decorating items. It feels weird to look for things to put in Emerson's apartment. Catherine keeps reminding me that it's now my apartment as well. After all the looking we do, the only thing I buy is a picture frame and an ottoman so we can prop our feet up on it if we want. Plus, it works for storage too. Before we check out, I call Emerson.
We drove Catherine's vehicle and there's no room for the ottoman. I think it would be too big to fit in her backseat even if she did have the room.
“Hey, what's up?”
“Are you busy?”
“Not for you,” he replies, a grin instantly appearing on my face.
“Could you meet me at the mall? I kind of bought something for the apartment and I could use the truck because Catherine's car is a disaster.”
Emerson is quiet for a moment before he asks, “What did you buy?” He sounds a little hesitant, like this is a bad idea.
“An ottoman to go in front of the couch. You're all the time stretching your legs out. Wouldn't it be nice to have something to put your feet on? And just think, it works as a storage space, too.”
He laughs. “You don't have to convince me, Eva. I was just curious.”
“Mhm. You sounded like it,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes. “There's still time to change your mind.”
“I'm not changing my mind,” he scoffs. “You bought a piece of furniture. It's not a big deal. I'll be there shortly.” He voice turns gentler and my heart melts as he adds, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I reply, lowering my voice because my brain automatically went aw.
We hang up and I find Catherine watching me with a raised brow. For a moment, I ignore her to text Emerson which store we're in.
“There's still time for you to change your mind too, you know,” she says as I slip my phone into my back pocket.
“Why would I do that?”
“Why would you say it to him then?”
“You should have heard how he sounded when I told him I bought something. We haven't even moved in together yet and he's already annoying me,” I laugh. “Let's check out, so we'll be ready when he gets here.”
We make our way to the front of the store and check out. We walk outside, sitting on a bench while we wait.
“Ugh,” Catherine huffs.
“What is it?”
“We're growing up. We have a little over a year and a half left of college. You're moving in with Emerson. I have a boyfriend who I'm managing to keep around. I'm not ready for all of this.” She leans her head on my shoulder and I pat her knee.
“Growing up is a good thing, Cath.”
“I know, but it's always hard and scary.”
Before I can reply, Emerson walks up to us. Catherine sits up and he leans down to kiss me.
“Hey, this it?” He pats the box the ottoman is in, examining the photo on the front.
“No, it's a box with a picture of an ottoman, but it's really full of pipes,” I reply sarcastically.
They both laugh as he shakes his head at me. “Let's load this up. I have to be at work soon.” We follow him to his truck, help him load it into the bed, and then he eyes my bag. “What else did you buy?”
“A picture frame, which means we need a picture to put in it.”
“That's my number one priority.”
“Don't mock me. We'll follow you back, so I can help you carry it up to the apartment.”
We do that, Emerson changes and leaves for work, and then it's just Catherine and me.
“No wonder you want to decorate this place,” she comments as we sit on the couch, propping our feet up on the new black leather ottoman. “There's nothing here.”
“It doesn't really bother me anymore, but it'll feel more like my home too if I add a few things myself.”
She nods her head in understanding. “We should go back to campus. I have an afternoon class today.”
When we return to campus, she heads to her class and I head to the dorms. I have some homework I need to do. I could go back to Emerson's—our—apartment, but I want to do it here. I haven't even truly left yet and I already miss it. There will be no more Netflix nights where we stuff ourselves full of popcorn and binge-watch movies or TV shows. No more late night study sessions with breaks to talk about boys. No more waking up and walking to class together.
On the other hand, I now get to wake up with Emerson. I get to do my homework with him, ask him about his day when he gets home or vice versa. I get to sleep with him every night. I get to live with the person I love. It's all working out.
I'm not going to lie, part of me wants to bring up Kelly one last time. It's not that I'm still insecure, but I've wondered if he needs to talk about it more. He never said a lot to start with. She wasn't just his ex-girlfriend. He lost his childhood best friend. Surely he has to be struggling with losing her. Or maybe Kelly's break did what she intended. He's been able to accept it and move on, even if it still hurts. He seems to be handling it well, but I can't help but want to ask and be sure.
My phone rings, distracting me from my thoughts.
“Hey, Mom. I was thinking of calling you today.”
“You were?” she asks.
“Yeah. There's something I need to tell you.”
“Okay, well, spit it out already.”
I laugh. “I'm going to move in with Emerson.” I hold my breath, having no clue how she'll react.
Mom is quiet for what seems like forever. “It's not like I can tell you what to do anymore, Eva. If you're sure and if it'll make you happy, then I guess I'm happy as well. He seemed like a great boy when y'all came up for my birthday. If you're going to be living with him, I expect more visits so I can get to know him better.”
My grin is so wide, my cheeks hurt a little. “I promise we will, Mom.”
“Good.” She pauses before adding, “I guess I can't exactly tell you not to either when your father and I did the same thing.”
“You did?” I always knew they met in college and married afterward, but my parents never said they lived together in college.
“Yes. You know we met our freshman year and by our junior year, your father decided he had enough of the dorms. He didn't ask me to move in with him. He demanded it.” She laughs with the memory playing in her mind, I'm sure. Any time they speak of their past, they always get a faraway look in their eyes as if they relived the moment. “Of course, I wanted to tease him a bit. I told him he was not in charge of my life and if he wanted something from me, he better ask. He dropped down onto both knees, held my hands, and asked me to move in with him. When I took longer than a second to answer, he started begging.”
I laugh. My dad doesn't seem like one to beg, but I know when it comes to Mom, he would do anything, including begging, if that's what it takes.
“I'm assuming you love this boy?” Mom asks.
“So much.”
“Then maybe you can convince him to have Thanksgiving with us?”
I snort. “I know I will definitely be there, Mom. I'll ask him. He may come.”
“Why do you say it like that? You wouldn't consider spending Thanksgiving with his family?”
“No.” I sigh. “His mom kind of hates me. It's a l
ong story and I didn't do anything wrong, but she doesn't like me anymore. Even if she didn't, it would be awkward. I, ah, sort of knew his brother it turns out.”
“I don't want to know about the brother,” Mom says. “If you ever need to talk about what's going on with his mom, though, you know I'm here.”
“I know, Mom. Thanks. It's been nice talking to you about these things. I'll call more,” I promise, guilt washing over me for how I've neglected to do so lately.
“We're always here for you, you know that. I'll see you in a few weeks, Eva. I love you.”
“Love you too, Mom. Bye.”
After hanging up, I begin gathering my items to get ready to go home. I sigh happily at the thought. Home. Emerson is home. One of those giddy squeals escapes me. My life feels complete and I can't wait to see where my relationship with Emerson takes us.
Emerson is at work, so I fix dinner, making sure to fix him a plate for later when I'm done. I was obviously comfortable here before, from the very first time, but now, I feel even more settled here. Once I'm finished eating, I go ahead and clean up the mess I made before going back to my homework. I'm wrapping it up when Emerson comes home, a grin on his face.
“What's with the smile?” I ask as he stalks over to me, taking my laptop and placing it on the ottoman. He swings my legs onto the couch, stretching them out. Then, he settles on top of me, kissing me hard and leaving me breathless when he pulls away.
“I wasn't sure if you were staying at the dorms tonight or not. I didn't know if you might want to spend more time with Catherine.”
I shake my head. “I wanted to be at home.”
His grin widens. He lowers his lips to mine, ending our conversation effectively.
It's been a few weeks since I unofficially moved in with Emerson. It's been bliss. Mostly. There were a few awkward and embarrassing moments of course where, as Emerson might put it, my human side showed. But his did, too, so it evened out.
I fall in love with him a little more every day. He surprises me at work at least once a week. We've been able to talk about Kelly without it feeling as if she was an issue within our relationship. He misses her and mainly regrets how he wasn't able to say goodbye at the very least. Emerson also spoke to his mother last week. She called me two days ago to apologize. I think part of it was because Emerson told her he was coming home with me for Thanksgiving and she was hoping he would change his mind if she apologized.
Too bad, so sad. He's still coming home with me.
We leave tomorrow, but first, I have to survive working today. It's crazy busy for the first three hours. Barry grumbles about every five minutes because he stayed late to help me handle the customers faster. Then, it's like we closed and didn't know it. No one shows for an hour.
“I'm going home, Eva. You're on your own. I've already been here too long.”
“Sucks being a good manager, doesn't it?” I tease.
He glares, but the corners of his mouth tip upward a little. “I don't think it'll get that bad again, but if it does, I know you can handle it. Have a great Thanksgiving, Eva.”
“Thanks, Barry. You too.”
He leaves and I go into the kitchen in the back to wash some dishes. There's a bell on the door, so I'll be able to hear if someone comes in. I've nearly finished when that little bell dings. My heart beats faster, hoping Emerson has come to surprise me. He didn't have to work today, so it could be him.
My heart beats even faster when I hear pounding footsteps, my blood now pumping due to fear and not excitement. As I take a step to head around to the front, the creepy, possible drug addict guy has busted through the door to the kitchen.
I scream and then scream again when I see a large, scary as hell knife in his shaky hand. His eyes are wild, dangerous, and he looks distraught. I don't think he's showered in a few days based on his greasy hair. He takes a step forward and I take a step back, holding up my hands.
“Hey, beautiful,” he rasps, his voice trembling with need, but for what, I'm not sure. He closes the distance between us, grabs my hand with strength I wouldn't have expected him to have, and drags me to the front. “Give me whatever's inside.” His hand moves to grip my shoulder as he uses the knife to point to the register.
“There's not much in there,” I blurt out. Four hundred dollars at the most. We keep only that much in there, putting excess into the safe a hundred dollars at a time if needed. His grip tightens and he shoves me, causing me to hit my hip hard against the counter.
“Give it to me,” he grits.
I glance at the knife. Would he even be able to stab me if he tried? He's shaking so much; he'd either miss me or do a lot of damage. With my own trembling hands, I begin pressing the touch screen to open the register. It pops open as the bell on the door rings. I've barely glanced up when the guy quickly moves behind me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to hold me in place, the knife now pressed to my neck.
I wince as he nicks me because his hands are shaking and he's applying some pressure. My heart sinks when I see Emerson. His face is ashen as he stares at us. His hands are up in the surrendering gesture.
“Don't hurt her,” he chokes when I yelp, getting nicked again.
THE GUY IGNORES me. Eva cringes as his lips brush her ear. “Put the cash in my pockets.”
She quickly follows his demand, her eyes flicking between the register and me. I take a step forward, but he notices the action. Eva screams with a high-pitch that hurts my ears. Oh, god. He cut her. Blood is pouring from her neck like a damn waterfall.
The guy freaks, staring at her for a long moment. “Sor...sorry,” he stutters, grabbing the rest of the cash as she crumbles to the floor. He runs around to the kitchen and I run to jump over the counter to Eva. I hear the bell as he leaves.
“You're okay,” I lie, glancing around, but not seeing any napkins within reach. I pull off my shirt, thankful for my undershirt, and pull away her hands. Those perfect bright blue eyes are already glazed as the tears stream down her face. I press my shirt to her neck, hoping it's not as bad as it looks. Eva clamps her hands around my wrist, her eyelids fluttering. “Stay with me, okay?”
“Not good with blood,” she whispers.
Shit. Is she struggling to stay conscious because of that or the actual wound? I grab the phone from next to the register and dial 911. Eva leans forward, her hands falling from my wrist as she rests her forehead against my chest.
My heart is racing with panic. I alternate talking to the operator and trying to keep Eva awake. She'll be fine. She has to be. It takes ten minutes before I can faintly hear sirens.
“Here they come,” I tell her. “You're going to be fine. Just stay with me. I love you, Eva. You're going to be okay.” When she doesn't respond, not even a 'mhm', my panic rises. “Eva?” I carefully tilt her away from me, my heart spasming out when I see her eyes closed. She's slack against my hold. “Eva, come on. Open your eyes,” I beg. Fear pushes out my own tears, overwhelming me. “Eva, Eva, Eva,” I repeat. A shaking on my shoulder snaps me out of it. Two paramedics are waiting for me to move out of the way. Reluctantly, I do. “Is she going to be okay?”
One checks her vitals as the other pulls away my shirt to look at the cut.
“Her pulse is strong,” the man says.
“The laceration isn't too bad. Long, but it didn't hit an artery,” the woman replies to me. “We'll stop the bleeding and she'll most likely receive stitches at the hospital. She'll be okay. She probably passed out from being lightheaded with the loss of blood.”
“She'll faint at the sight of it too,” I tell them for no other reason than to say something.
They load her up on the stretcher. The police have arrived as well and they want to ask me questions.
“Can't you send someone to the hospital? I can't let her go alone.”
“She won't be alone,” the officer replies in a monotone.
“She'll freak the hell out if I'm not there! I'm not staying here.” Before he can say anything else
, I jog to catch up with the paramedics as they place her in the back of the ambulance. I take a seat and reach for her hand. We pull onto the road when Eva opens her eyes.
“How are you feeling, dear?” the lady asks her. “We're on the way to the hospital and you're going to be just fine.”
“Emerson?” she breathes, her voice sounding weak and breaking my heart.
“I'm right here.” I squeeze her hand and lean forward, so she can see me.
“Thanks for surprising me,” she whispers. Eva glances down at my undershirt, frowning when she sees the blood.
“Don't look or you'll pass out on me again. You scared the hell out of me.”
“Sorry. Too much blood.” I give her a little smile and she turns worried. “How bad is it?”
Her eyes move to the paramedic as she answers her, “Nothing a lot of stitches can't fix. It wasn't a clean cut, it's a bit jagged, but you'll be fine.”
When we arrive at the hospital, Eva is seen immediately. An officer hovers outside her door. The doctor lets him in for a few minutes before he's going to stitch her up. Eva slowly recounts what happened, how the guy had been in there before, and Barry's information. It makes it worse that this guy has been around her before. My stomach rolls as I remember her telling me about him while being thankful Glen seemed to make him leave before by showing up. After we also give him our info, he leaves.
“Will you call Glen, my parents, and Catherine?”
“You don't want me to wait until after you're stitches are done?”
“I'll be okay. Come back when you're done.” She gives me a small smile of reassurance.
“Okay.” I kiss her softly and take her phone, which was in her back pocket.
Everyone freaks out as I call to inform them of what happened. Can't say I blame them. I'm still freaked out. I had to reassure her parents many times that she was fine and we would still be coming tomorrow because she's fine. Glen insists on coming to the hospital. I don't object since I will need a ride to my truck for us to get home. He's bringing his girlfriend, so she can drive Eva's car to our apartment. Catherine's upset, too. She left earlier today to head home for Thanksgiving. She wants to see Eva, check on her herself, but she's already home. I had to promise Eva would call her later.
Without a Doubt Page 24
