The Night Before Christian

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The Night Before Christian Page 10

by Avery, Joy


  When his cell phone rang, he fished it from his pocket. Emory’s name flashed across the screen. For a brief second, he contemplated answering. But what could she say to him that would undo what she’d done?

  Sliding his thumb across the screen to send the call to voicemail, he stashed the phone back in his pocket and returned to his closed eyes position. He fought the images of Emory laying beneath him, smiling and claiming to be happier than she’d been in years. One thing for sure, she was damn good at being convincing.

  “I spoke to Yasmin,” his grandmother said. “You called off the wedding?”

  So much for leaving him to his thoughts. Clearly, Yasmin hadn’t owned up to not wanting to get married either. He imagined his grandmother eyeing him, waiting on a response. One that would never come. He didn’t want to discuss a wedding—or lack of one. He didn’t want to discuss Yasmin. And he damn sure didn’t want to discuss Emory.

  She continued, “Why would you—?”

  His cell phone rang again. This time he didn’t bother removing it from his pocket. The ringing gave him a reprieve from the sound of his grandmother’s voice.

  “As I was saying—”

  “Why?” Christian said. He could feel his grandmother shift toward him.

  “Why, what?”

  When she’d painted the vivid picture of Emory’s deceit, he’d gotten the feeling she wasn’t telling him everything. He opened his eyes and studied her. “Why would you wait all of this time to tell me this? Why did you keep it from me, period? I deserved to know.”

  “I kept it from you because I knew how much it would hurt you.” She fumbled with the black leather gloves draped across her lap. “If fifty thousand dollars was all it took to—” She stopped abruptly. “It was money well spent. I’d do anything to protect you and your brother. Back then, you thought you were so in love with the girl. I was protecting you.”

  “I was in love with her.” He instantly regretted the roughness of his tone. Despite the circumstances, he would never disrespect his grandmother. Calming, he said, “You didn’t want to hurt me then. Does that mean you believe it’s okay to hurt me now?”

  Her expression hardened. “I believed I was doing you a favor. I’ve shown you the kind of…woman—and I use the term loosely—you were dealing with. The kind of woman you abandoned a perfectly good mate for. Shouldn’t I get a thank you instead of your unappreciative attitude?”

  “Stop the car,” Christian said, through clenched teeth. His door swung open before the vehicle came to a complete stop.

  “Where in heaven’s name do you think you’re going?”

  “I’ll walk. I need to clear my head.” He slammed the door. The window lowered as the vehicle moved alongside him.

  “Christian St. Claire, are you insane? We’re more than twenty miles from the manor. Do you plan to walk the entire way? And through this neighborhood?”

  “I really need to be alone right now.”

  “You’re sulking over that woman? After everything I’ve told you? How pathetic. Drive!” she ordered the driver, the window rising.

  The car disappeared in the distance. Christian came to a stop. His jaw tightened, and he pulled his gloved hands into tight fists. A beat later, he released all the frustration he harbored through a tortured sound that seemed to echo for miles.

  Chapter 12

  Emory tried Christian’s cell phone once more. The fifth time that day. She’d given him space and hadn’t tried to contact him since the debacle three days ago. And of course, he hadn’t reached out to her either.

  When his voicemail answered, she left another message. This one would be the last. “Christian, it’s me again. Emory,” she said, as if he wouldn’t know or had forgotten her already.

  “I know you don’t really want to hear from me. Evident by the unreturned calls. Please, give me this one last thing and I won’t ask anything else of you. Just give me the opportunity to talk to you face-to-face. The opportunity to explain. Please. I deserve that much.”

  She hated sounding so desperate, but in a way, she was. She could respect him wanting nothing more to do with her, but she wouldn’t allow him to believe money had been the reason she’d walked away. And she was sure his grandmother had painted her as greedy and loveless. Neither was true.

  “I’ll be home after six. I hope you come. I…” She debated her next words. “I love you, Christian. I always have.”

  The second she ended the call her phone rang. When her mother’s name scrolled across the screen, she grew concerned. “Hello?”

  “Emory?”

  “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, sweetie. I had Ifede dial you. You couldn’t sleep last night. I just wanted to check on you.”

  Clearly, her mother was having one of her good days. She’d referred to Ifede by her actual name and not that pretty girl with the bright eyes. “I’m sorry if I kept you awake last night, Mom.”

  She’d spent the night with her mother. Sleep had evaded her, so she’d spent most of the night tossing, turning, and pacing the floor. She contributed it to the fact that she wasn’t in her own bed but knew the real reason. Christian.

  “You didn’t keep me awake. I’m a night owl. You know that.”

  They both laughed.

  Her mother continued, “You know what that means, don’t you? When you can’t fall asleep at night.”

  That I have entirely too much on my mind.

  “It means you were awake in someone’s else’s dreams.”

  She doubted that to be the reason. “I’m glad you called, Mom. I always love hearing your voice.”

  “I need to tell you something else,” her mother said.

  “Okay.” There was a pause that worried her. “Mom?”

  “Trust God through this storm, baby. He’ll never let you down.”

  Emory’s eyes filled with tears. Even going through her own battle, her mother still found the strength to encourage and support others. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”

  “I know you did, sweetie. I’m your mother. I know these things.”

  With her voice cracking with emotion, Emory said, “Well, do you know how much I love you?”

  “Oh, yes, I do. I know it by the way you care for me. In love, actions speak so much louder than words. Know that I love you, too. We’ll talk later.”

  Emory wiped at her eyes as she pulled the phone away from her ear. The shop door chimed and, for an instant, she got excited from the notion it could be Christian. But it was only Jordyn.

  Emory sighed. “Oh. It’s just you.”

  Jordyn rested her hand on her hip. “Well, great to see you, too, sis.”

  “A small part of me hoped you were Christian.” A much larger part than she was willing to reveal. Maybe she should just let him move on with his life. Maybe this was fates way of intervening, telling her she didn’t deserve to be happy. But why? She and the universe had had their ups and down, but what in the hell had she done to fate?

  “Still nothing?” Jordyn asked.

  Emory shook her head. “Still nothing.”

  Jordyn rested a hip against the metal table and folded her arms across her chest. “You have to see it from his perspective, Em. He believes you chose money over him. He’s pissed and upset. Once he comes to his senses, he’ll realize what the two of you share is real.”

  Shouldn’t she be the one pissed? Shouldn’t she be the one upset? He’d walked away without even looking back. She stilled. Hadn’t she done the same to him? Was this payback? Emory sighed heavily.

  Jordyn draped her arms around Emory’s neck. “Don’t worry, he’ll come around.”

  “He won’t even give me the opportunity to explain. Don’t I at least deserve that much?”

  “You could go to him,” Jordyn said, apprehensively.

  Emory’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know. He’s not taking my calls. Would he open the door if I showed up at his place?”

  Just then, the door chimed agai
n, drawing both their attentions.

  “Oh, it’s just you,” she and Jordyn said in unison to the parcel delivery man.

  “And a Merry Christmas to y’all, too.”

  “Sorry, Irvin,” Emory said. “You know I’m always happy to see you. It usually means a fresh flower delivery. What woman doesn’t love receiving flowers? Even when she is a florist.”

  “No flowers this time,” he said. “All I have is this. From…” He squinted at the writing. “Johnson, Jones & Jones Law Office.”

  Emory wrinkled her brows. “A law office?” A bad feeling rushed over her. Was one of her creditors suing her? After signing the device he offered, she accepted the large envelope. Tearing into the package, she removed the documents inside and read them carefully to herself.

  “What is it?” Jordyn asked, glancing over Emory’s shoulder.

  Emory thumbed to the second page. “It’s…” The air in the room thickened, and she found it difficult to breath. She slapped her hand over her mouth, steadied herself on the edge of the table and passed the pages to Jordyn. Allowing her hand to fall, she said, “Why would he do this?”

  Jordyn scanned the documents, then glanced up at her, a wide smile curling her lips. “Because he loves you, Em. This man loves you.”

  Their mother’s words echoed in Emory’s head. In love, actions speak louder than words. She reclaimed the pages—one a deed to her shop, the other the deed to her mother’s house—and scanned them again. “They’re dated over a week ago,” she said. “Before Christian and I even—” She stopped mid-thought.

  “Screwed?” Jordyn said with a smirk.

  “Watch your mouth.” Emory removed her apron. “Will you watch the shop for an hour?”

  “Of course I will.” Jordyn shooed her away. “Go. Get your man. Don’t forget your phone. I’m going to need you to call me with details.”

  Emory retrieved her cell phone from Jordyn. “Thanks.” It rang before she could slide it into her purse. She considered allowing the call to roll into voicemail, but a call from Nadia Chandler—one of North Carolina’s premiere wedding planners—usually meant lucrative business. Hitting the speaker icon, she placed the phone on the table and slid into her coat. “Hi, Nadia.”

  “Emory, please don’t strangle me, but remember the message I left you about the St. Claire/Manchester wedding?”

  Yes, she remembered. She’d been in New York with the ex-groom at the time. “Yes.”

  “Ignore it. The wedding is back on. This couple is going to be the death of me.”

  The air seized in Emory’s lungs, and she pushed her lids together to stop the room from spinning. Her stomach cramped and bile burned her throat. She found the corner of the table just in time to stabilize herself. But a second later, her legs turned to jelly and she crumbled to the floor.

  ***

  If the banging on Christian’s front door was any indication, his door would fly off the hinges soon. What in the hell was going on? And who the hell was hammering on his door like the police?

  When he flung the door open—using less caution than he should have—Jordyn barreled past him, waving a pair of shears identical to the ones he’d used at Emory’s shop. “Jordyn, what the hell?”

  She pointed the tip of the blades at him. “Do you remember what I said I’d do to you if you didn’t stop toying with my sister’s heart?”

  He instinctively shielded his crotch. “I’m going to return her calls. I just need—”

  “When? After your honeymoon?”

  Christian’s head snapped back in surprise. “Honeymoon?”

  “You swore to me that you loved my sister more than anything on this earth. You’re a fucking liar, and I’m going to castrate you. Let’s see how you manage on your wedding night without a dick.”

  When she lunged for him, he grabbed her and held her in a reversed bear hug. Wrangling the shears from her, he said, “First, watch your mouth,” because that’s what Emory would have said. “Second, what in the hell are you talking about?”

  Jordyn squirmed to free herself. “Don’t play dumb with me, Christian St. Claire. Your wedding planner called. She said the wedding is back on.” She squirmed more. “Let…me…go.”

  The news struck him like an iron fist to his stomach. He knew sure as hell he hadn’t changed his mind about marrying Yasmin and vice-versa. So what—? Gran. The woman had definitely overstepped this time. “I’m not getting married, Jordyn. And I didn’t lie to you. I do love your sister. With all my heart.”

  Jordyn stomped on his foot with the pointy-toed shoes she wore. He grunted but held firm to the grip he had on her.

  “If you don’t let me go right now...”

  “Not until you calm down and listen.”

  “Like you listened to my sister when she tried to tell you your grandmother is a spawn of the devil?”

  Before he could respond, she snaked a hand free, reached behind her, and placed his balls in a kung-fu grip. “Oh, Sweet Jesus,” he said in a tone that would be the envy of any opera singer.

  When he was ten, he’d been hit in the head by a foul baseball. The pain didn’t compare to the agonizing hurt he experienced now. His knees buckled, crumbling him to the floor in a fetal position. He swore he’d lost consciousness on his way down. Stars and birds floated around him. Through clenched teeth, he said, “I’m…not...getting married.”

  Jordyn hovered over him, showing little regard for his agony. “Then why did your wedding planner call the shop and say you were, huh?”

  He growled at her. “I don’t know, but I’m sure my grandmother had something to do with it.”

  “Your grandmother?”

  “Yes.”

  Jordyn seemed to soften, as if his explanation made sense. She knelt beside him. “Can…I get you some ice or something?” She flashed a nervous smile, morphing back to the pleasant person she usually was.

  “I swear to God, if I didn’t love your sister so much, I’d have you arrested.”

  “Wouldn’t that be overkill?”

  “Get out.”

  “I’m sorry, Christian. I snapped. Haven’t you seen that show?”

  “Get…out.”

  “You won’t mention this to Emory, will you?”

  “Get out! Get out! Get out!”

  “Okay, okay. You don’t have to be so dramatic.” She hurried to the door, but stopped shy of exiting. “If it makes you feel any better, now I understand why my sister walked funny when you guys returned from New York. You’re packing some heat.”

  He hurled a remote across the room.

  “Bye, Christian. Love you.”

  As soon as he got the feeling back in his legs, he was up and out the door. A short time later, he exploded into his grandmother’s front door. He strayed from his normal routine—straight to the kitchen to raid the fridge—and instead, moved through the house in search of her. “Gran! Gran!”

  Gran stood at the top of the spiraling staircase. “Have you lost your mind? I haven’t seen or talked to you in days. Now you come in screaming like a madman?”

  Climbing the stairs, he said, “Did you call the planner and tell her the wedding was back on?”

  “Why, yes, I did,” she said nonchalantly. “I figured that once you came to your senses, you’d realize the mistake you’ve made.”

  “Gran, I’ve never disrespected you, and I won’t start now. But there will be no wedding. I love Emory. Do you hear what I’m saying to you? I. Love. Emory,” he repeated. He pounded his chest with a closed fist. “With everything within me. And you know what else? I don’t care about the money she took. I love her beyond her faults.”

  “You don’t care?”

  “No.”

  “Then that makes you a damn fool.” She descended the stairs. “Love is overrated.”

  “How can you say that? What happened to you, Gran? What happened to the woman who used to waltz in the rose garden with Grandfather? The woman who used to serenade him with love songs? The woman who showe
d me what love looked like by the way she loved her husband. What happened to the woman who would have celebrated my and Emory’s love?”

  When his grandmother stopped in the middle of the hallway, he stood in front of her. “I love Emory, and I’ll say it a thousand times if that’s what it takes for you to understand that. Gran, one of the many reasons why I love her is because in some ways, she reminds me of you.”

  She scoffed. “And how exactly is that?”

  “She’s stubborn and full of pride.” He ignored her scowl. “And she loves me. I don’t care what you want me to believe. I know Emory loves me.”

  “Really?” His grandmother glanced away.

  “If she’ll have me… If she’ll forgive me… I’m going to be with her, Gran. I want Emory in my life. And honestly, I don’t have a life without her.”

  “You did have a life. A wonderful life. With Yas—”

  Exhausted, he said, “Yasmin didn’t want to get married, either, Gran. We were trying to force something not designed to fit. We were suffering. Emory freed us both.”

  By the expression on her face, something about his words shook her. Maybe she’d realized he wasn’t backing down on this.

  “Emory is a part of my life. A huge part of my life. I hope you will accept this. I need you to accept this. But if you can’t…” He shrugged, turned, and moved away, leaving her there to fill in the blank.

  Chapter 13

  Emory answered the door on the second chime. When she saw Christian standing there, it wasn’t joy or pain she felt. It was defeat. She just couldn’t take any more.

  “Hey. Can I come in?”

  After a long, tense-filled moment, she stepped aside.

  Once in, he turned to face her. “I’m not marrying—”

  Emory flashed a cautionary palm. “I know. Jordyn told me.” She’d also mentioned that she’d probably ruined Christian’s chances of ever fathering kids.

  “I don’t care what happened in the past, Em. I don’t care about the money. I just want to be with you.”

 

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