“I’m nobody’s victim, and if she wants to talk to Troy, she’ll talk to me, or she won’t talk to anybody.”
I look at Emilie and she’s all business. Her face is stern and her back is rigid as she stares into the detectives eyes.
“I will discuss that option with Ms. Whitman and let you know,” he responds, walking out of the room.
“Looks like you might get what you want after all,” I say, not too happy about having them in the same room again.
About five minutes later, Detective Johnson returns.
“She agreed.”
“Good. I knew she would,” Emilie states as she stands up.
“Is she handcuffed?” I ask him, worried about what she might try with Emilie sitting across from her.
“She is, and we’ll be watching from the room right next door.”
He escorts us down the hall, to the room where Carla is being held. I really could have gone without seeing her again, and I can’t imagine what else she wants to say to me. But I understand Emilie needing this, so I’ll do it for her.
When the officer opens the door, I walk in first, and Emilie follows directly behind me. Carla looks up and smiles at me. She’s actually fucking smiling at me. She’s still wearing the white dress she came to my house in earlier, and doesn’t look the least bit worried about where she is. It’s almost like she’s expecting to be released.
As soon as Emilie steps from behind me, Carla’s smile transforms into a look of revulsion. I grab Emilie’s hand in mine and together we walk to the rectangular table in the center of the room.
I notice that Carla doesn’t look in Emilie’s direction at all as we sit down across from her.
“What do you need to say to me, Carla?” I demand.
Her face tilts up slightly, and she studies my face before speaking. “I wanted to apologize for all the things I’ve done to you. For the lies, the deception in our relationship, everything.”
“What about for what you did to Emilie?” I ask angrily. “I don’t give a shit about what you did to me anymore. What pisses me off is what you did to someone who did nothing to you. Are you sorry for that?” I demand.
She doesn’t say anything and turns to look at the wall to her left. I sit back in my chair, fuming. Emilie leans forward against the table, getting herself closer to Carla, and it puts me on edge.
“You can pretend that I’m not here all you want, Carla,” she says in a quiet voice. “But I am here. I’m here with Troy, and there’s nothing that you can do to change that.”
Carla’s jaw clenches, but she doesn’t bother to look in Emilie’s direction.
“You’re brave when I’m drugged. You’re awfully talkative when you have me tied to a chair. You don’t have anything to say now?”
Emilie’s demeanor is calm and cool-headed, and I’m sure that’s probably pissing Carla off even more. She doesn’t look at Emilie, but she does shift her head, and look at me momentarily before looking down at the table.
Emilie laughs lightly. “Is it killing you to see me here, still alive and with the man you say you love? After all the planning you did to be my friend, to try to kill me so that you could be with Troy, none of it worked. I’m sure you feel foolish.”
She sits back in her chair, never taking her eyes off of Carla. I admire her strength. She could be and has reason to be an emotional mess. Yelling, screaming, crying, and breaking down, but here she is being strong and confident. I love that about her.
“Carla, I just want to say thank you.”
Simultaneously, Carla and I look at Emilie, both shocked by her words, but she doesn’t flinch.
“Thank you for being stupid enough to cheat on a wonderful man and putting him back on the market for me to find.” Emilie smiles at her. “Because of your unfaithfulness, Troy will now be able to experience what a real relationship is like; a relationship that doesn’t revolve around only one person. A relationship that doesn’t consist of lies and dishonesty, but instead is built on friendship. He’ll know what it feels like to be loved unconditionally.”
While a small smile plays on my lips, Carla scowls at Emilie, and Emilie leans in again.
“You’re the most pathetic person I’ve ever known. You can feel good about yourself for almost killing me, but you’ll always know that you failed, just like you failed at getting Troy back. What you did succeed at is making it obvious that nothing will break Troy and I up. We’re stronger now, united, and confident that nothing will come between us.”
Carla looks at me. “Please tell your friend not to fool herself.”
“Why are you so afraid to speak to me, Carla? Are you that much of a coward that you can’t look me in my face? Is it because you don’t like to look at the woman who you failed to kill, or the woman who has what you think belongs to you?” Emilie responds before I can.
Carla laughs, catching both of us off guard, then she pins Emilie with a malicious look. “You’re really fooling yourself if you think I’m a coward. I just have no desire to look at or speak to someone who means so little to me. You’re nothing. Just a waste of space.”
She turns her head, once again staring at the white wall.
Emilie shakes her head in disbelief. “You are delusional, Carla, and I hope you get the help you need. Wherever you end up, you’ll have plenty of time to think about all of your mistakes, but always remember that I have the life you so desperately wanted. The life you tried killing for. I think knowing that you’ll live with those envious thoughts for the rest of your life, is enough for me to be happy.” She finishes with a smile and stands up, and I join her.
Carla looks up at me, her handcuffed hands under the table. “I’m sorry, Troy. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save you from having to be with such a miserable creature. I can only hope that you’ll remember me.”
I furrow my brows, but Emilie laughs. “Come on, baby. Let’s go home.”
I put my arm around her waist and pull the door open for her. Once she steps out, I take one last look back at Carla. When I lock eyes with her, I see tears glistening from where I’m standing. I recognize in that moment that Emilie just fought back with her words. She broke Carla down without having to use violence. Emilie knew that what would hurt Carla the most was to know she didn’t accomplish what she set out to do; break us apart, and have me for herself.
After I close the door behind me, and after we speak to Detective Johnson one more time, I take Emilie back to my house.
What I should make our house.
It’s been two weeks since Carla was arrested, and in that time life has gone back to normal. I can now go to work unsupervised, and no more looking over my shoulder anytime I go outside.
Troy and I have been out on a couple double dates with Jace and Adrienne. Adrienne is of course already obsessing about her wedding. Although they haven’t set a specific date yet, she is already in the process of picking out colors, dresses, flowers, and all the stuff she’s used to doing for other people. She’s completely ecstatic and the look on Jace’s face when he watches her go on and on about it is priceless. They are perfect together.
I’m standing in Troy’s kitchen when my cell phone starts ringing. I run to the living room where it’s laying on the table and pause when I see that it’s Detective Johnson. I wonder why he could be calling me.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Watson? This is Detective Johnson.”
“Hi. What’s going on?”
“Well, I just wanted to inform you of something.”
I stumble towards the couch, allowing myself to fall into the cushion. My heart thuds hard in my chest, ready to plummet at the sound of bad news.
“What is it?”
“Well, this morning, Ms. Whitman was found dead in her cell.”
I inhale loudly, my hand covering my mouth. “What?”
I hear him sigh. “She wasn’t on suicide watch. We had no reason to think she would try to harm herself. She’s been fairly compliant. We can only assume
she didn’t want to go to trial.”
“Oh my God,” I murmur.
“That’s not all.”
Troy walks into the living room, wearing only a towel around his waist. As soon as he sees my face, he rushes over and sits next to me. His face is filled with concern.
“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly.
I shake my head.
“What else is there?” I ask the detective.
“She left a note.”
“To who?” I ask, even though I’m pretty sure I know who it’s to.
After a long pause he responds. “To you, Ms. Watson.”
“Oh.”
“I have it here, and you can come get it anytime you want, or you don’t have to at all. It’s up to you.”
“Um. Okay. I’ll call you back.”
“Okay.”
I hang up the phone and look at Troy, my mouth still slightly agape with surprise.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“Carla. She… she’s dead.”
“What?” he exclaims.
“She killed herself.”
We sit there quietly for a little while, unsure of what to say. For whatever reason, I never thought she’d kill herself.
“Troy, she left me a note.”
“She left you a note?” he asks, sounding as surprised as I was.
“Yeah. I thought it would be to you, too.”
“Are you going to read it?”
I shrug. “Should I?”
“That’s up to you,” he replies.
I pick my phone back up and call Detective Johnson.
After two rings, he answers. “Detective Johnson.”
“Hi, it’s Emilie Watson.”
“Hi, Ms. Watson.”
“Can you just read it to me? The note she left.”
“Sure, if that’s what you want.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Okay, one minute.”
While I wait, Troy grabs my hand, and we both sit side by side and wait to see what her final words were.
“Okay, I have it here,” Detective Johnson says. “She said, ‘Emilie, I didn’t have to live with it for long. Are you still happy?’”
“That’s it?” I ask.
“Yep. That’s all that’s written here.”
“Okay. Thank you, Detective.”
“No problem.”
When we hang up, Troy asks, “What did she say?”
“She said she didn’t’ have to live with it for long, and asked if I’m still happy.”
“Wait. What? What does that mean?”
“Remember when I said that knowing she’ll have all those envious thoughts for the rest of her life would make me happy? She wants to know if I’m still happy even though she didn’t have to live with them for long.”
“Wow,” Troy breathes.
“Yeah.”
“Well…” Troy starts, uncertain of what else to say.
“I really don’t know what to say or how to feel about all of this,” I state honestly.
“We just keep living our lives.”
I curl into him and we stay like that for a while.
Three days later is March fifteenth and my birthday. Troy and I have plans to go out to dinner before meeting up with our friends at Club Trinity.
I put on a light pink, one shoulder, ruffle dress. It stops several inches above my knee and has a sheer, train that starts at my hips and flows beautifully behind me. I may be overdressed when we get to the club, but dammit, it’s my birthday and I can wear whatever the hell I want.
We arrive at the same restaurant we went to for our first date, and this time get seated in a more private area. Our booth is dimly lit, and we have a perfect view of the night lights outside.
“Happy birthday, baby,” Troy says in his deep, sexy voice.
“Thank you,” I reply with a smile.
“Want your birthday gift now?” he asks with a grin.
“Yes, please!” I squeal.
He puts the small gift bag with pink tissue paper sticking out from the top, onto the table. I had seen the bag on the table at his house, but he wouldn’t let me open it.
I reach out and bring the bag to my lap and peek up at him with a huge smile on my face. He’s grinning back at me with that perfect smile of his.
After I rip out the colored tissue paper, I pull out a long, rectangular box. With shaky fingers, I lift the lid and let my eyes rest on the most beautiful piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen. Before I take it out, Troy slides onto the bench next to me.
“Troy, this is… I don’t even know what to say. This is gorgeous. How did you…”
He takes the box from my hand and pulls the bracelet from inside. “You once told me about the bracelet your mom had; the one with each of your birthstones. With Adrienne’s help, I found out your parents’ birthdates, and went and had this bracelet made for you. I thought you’d like to have one for yourself.”
He smiles at me as he fastens the expensive piece of jewelry around my wrist.
“I can’t believe you remembered, and I can’t believe you did this for me. Troy, this is absolutely stunning, and I’m sure it was a fortune. You didn’t have to do this, but I appreciate it so very much,” I say as tears burn my eyes, fighting to come out.
I study the bracelet and trace the diamond Xs and Os. My fingers hesitate as they touch my parents’ birthstones. This is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever been given.
When tears begin trickling down my face, Troy hands me a napkin.
“Thank you so much, Troy. I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I love it.”
“You’re very welcome, baby.”
After he gently wipes a tear from my cheek, he leans in and gives me a kiss, then moves back to the other side of the booth.
“I love you so much, Troy.”
“Not as much as I love you.”
“Debatable,” I say with a grin.
We eat our dinner and have a couple of drinks. Troy rented a limo for my birthday, so nobody has to worry about driving.
“Who are we picking up first?” I ask as I pull my purse out and re-apply my lipstick.
“Nico and Kade are together at Nico’s place, and he lives closest to the restaurant, so we’ll grab them first. Jace and Adrienne will be after them, and Marc last since he lives the furthest away.”
“Okay.”
After Troy pays the bill, we walk outside and climb into the limo. He sits on the long seat along the side, while I sit on the shorter one at the back.
“You look awfully handsome tonight, Mr. Thompson,” I say seductively.
“Well, thank you, Ms. Watson, but I’m taken.”
“Oh are you?” I ask playfully.
“Yes I am,” he answers with a smirk.
I let my eyes rake over him. He’s got on a white button up shirt with the sleeves folded up just enough to show off part of his muscled forearms, and a black suit vest that rests on top.
“Hmm. Well, does she know how lucky she is?”
“It’s me who’s the lucky one.”
I smile and move to go sit next to him. “I think we’re both lucky to have found each other.”
“I agree.”
The limo stops and a few minutes later Nico and Kade climb inside.
“Hey, guys,” Kade says with a smile.
“Happy birthday, Em,” Nico calls out as soon as he gets in.
“Thanks, Nico.”
They both sit in the seat along the other side of the limo. Both of them are wearing black slacks, but Nico has on a gray button up with a loose black tie, and Kade is wearing a light blue button up.
“Who are we getting next?” Nico asks.
“Jace and Adrienne,” Troy answers.
“Oh okay. Cool.”
“When are you boys gonna get girlfriends?” I ask.
Nico busts out laughing. “Em, we have lots of girlfriends. We have new ones almost every day.”
I purse my l
ips at him. “Clients are not girlfriends, Nico.”
He shrugs. “I’m not complaining.”
“Of course not,” I respond with a playful roll of my eyes.
We all drink a glass of champagne and then pick up Jace, Adrienne, and Marc. Driving around to pick everybody up takes almost an hour, so by the time we get to the club it’s almost eleven.
“It’s a good thing we know the owners,” Nico says as we bypass the line and walk right into the club.
We spend several hours in the club and every one of us gets a little too tipsy, but at least nobody throws up. It’s definitely one of the best birthdays I’ve had in a long time. Free shots, lots of dancing, plenty of laughs with some of the funniest people I know. I definitely needed this night.
Everybody else gets dropped off first, leaving Troy and I alone in the back of the limo.
I drunkenly climb onto his lap and start grinding myself on him as I kiss his neck.
“You want this dick, baby?” he growls.
I moan and begin unbuttoning his pants.
He reaches down to help and I move back giving him room to push them down. Once his cock springs free, he grabs me by my waist and one hand goes to my panties. He pushes them to the side, and then positions me above his dick.
I slide down onto him and start riding his dick hard and fast. I’ve been horny all fucking night and now with the alcohol in my system, there’s no way I’m going to go slow. I want it hard and fast.
I move up and down, feeling his hard length deep inside of me. He grunts while I cry out, and his name falls from my lips as I come all over his dick.
He quickly lifts me from his cock and bends me over the seat. I feel him push the train of my dress to the side and push the rest of it to my hips. Again choosing to slide my panties to the side, he slides his thick cock inside in one fast thrust. I scream into the seat as he pounds into me hard from behind. A few minutes later his body goes rigid and he empties himself inside of me.
We both scramble back onto the seat, him pulling his pants and underwear back up, and me pushing my dress back down.
“Fuck, that was good,” he says, still partially out of breath.
“Mmm. Yeah it was,” I agree, my eyes closing.
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