I picked my cell up off the nightstand and looked at my notes. I hadn’t missed just one period; I’d missed two of them. I should’ve had one the week before.
I had to get a test. A test would prove what I already knew, but I wouldn’t let myself actually think it until I had the proof in my hands.
On the way to work, I stopped by a drugstore to pick up a pregnancy test. Hiding it in my purse, I took it in with me when I got in my office, heading straight to my private bathroom.
Peeing on a stick wasn’t exactly the way I thought I’d start my workday when I went to bed last night, but then again, I hadn’t thought I’d wake up puking either.
Minutes later, I stared at the line that told me that I’d fucked up my life royally. And Christopher’s too, for that matter.
I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Grabbing my purse, I bolted out of my office, heading down the long hallway to the stairwell. I wasn’t about to use the elevator and chance running into anyone.
After three flights of stairs, I had to sit down on a step and catch my breath. My head spun from lack of oxygen and the fact that I’d been so damn stupid. “You’re truly an idiot, Emma Hancock.”
I sat there, not sure what I should do. Only one thought came to me. Valerie.
Getting up, I took the stairs at a slower pace so I wouldn’t pass out and break my neck by falling down the stairs. But then again, that might not be so bad.
It took forever, but I finally made it to the ground floor. I had to get to my car in the parking garage without anyone seeing me and asking why I was leaving.
Remarkably, I made it out and slipped into my car. My hands shook as I clutched the steering wheel. I had to get to Valerie; she’d know what to do. At least I hoped she would.
In my panic, I hadn’t even called her; I just drove like a bat out of hell. Pulling up at the dorms at Columbia, I got out of my car and went to her dorm room, only to find that no one was there.
After knocking for five minutes, I leaned my back against the door and then slowly slid down the wall. Now it was officially time to break down. “No!” I cried as I put my face in my hands and started bawling.
“What are you doing, Emma?” came a girl’s voice.
I looked up but couldn’t see through my tears. “Val?”
“Of course it’s me. No one else knows you here, Emma.” She reached down to help me up. “What happened? Did Romeo break up with you or something?”
“No,” I wailed.
“Did someone run over your dog?” she asked sarcastically.
“No,” I cried.
“Let’s go inside. People are coming, and they’ll call security on your loud ass.” She unlocked the door then pulled me inside, taking me to her bed and making me sit down. “I’m going to get a wet washcloth to clean your teary face, then you’re going to stop bawling and tell me what the hell is wrong.”
Gasping as I tried to stop crying, I kept wiping away the tears that refused to stop falling. When Valerie came back with the cool, wet cloth, I took it from her and held it to my burning eyes until I was able to stop the tears, and I felt like I might be able to say the words I needed to.
“I… I...” I couldn’t do it. I fell apart again and fell on the bed, burying my face in the pillow.
“Emma! For the love of God. Please pull yourself together,” she pleaded with me. “Plus, that’s my roommate’s pillow you’re covering in your snot and tears. That’s gross, man!”
“Sorry,” I mumbled as I put the cloth over my eyes again to try to stop the flood of tears a second time, but it didn’t work.
Nothing would work. I would most likely die of dehydration at the rate I was going. And everyone would be better off that way, anyway.
I could never go to Christopher with this horrible news. I couldn’t tell my parents, either. I didn’t know what I would do.
Valerie lay on the bed beside me, holding me in her thin arms. “Just try to calm down, Emma. Nothing is this bad. We can deal with whatever’s wrong. You’ll see. Hush, now. No more crying. Crying has never solved anything.”
I knew she was right. But nothing would solve my problem.
At least I had money in my bank account for once in my life. I could run away and start a new life under an assumed name. Maybe Connie Beavers or something like that. I would have my baby and raise it all on my own. Even though I didn’t know a single thing about babies or about being a mom.
The thought made me cry even harder. “Valerie, I’ve messed up. I’ve messed up real bad!”
“How?” she asked as she rubbed my shoulders. “Come on, Emma, tell me what’s wrong. This is killing me. I’m serious.”
“I can’t.” A whole new level of crying started. Deep, guttural, as if my soul itself was being torn apart.
“Damn it!” she yelled at me as she got off the bed. “Sit up and tell me what the hell’s happened! Right now, young lady!”
Her tone shocked me, and I sat up, wiping my eyes. “You can’t tell anyone, Val. I mean it. Not anyone.”
“What did this asshole do to you, Emma?” She smacked her fist against her palm. “I’m going to kill him!”
“It’s not his fault.” I tried to catch my breath and hold the tears back. “It’s all mine.”
“I’m sure it’s his fault.” She paced back and forth. “I should’ve never kept your secret. Now this jerk has gone and done something terrible to you, and it’s all my fault. I should’ve told you to tell your parents about him. I should’ve made you let me meet him. There’re so many things I should’ve done. You’re too naïve. Too trusting. Too innocent. This is all my fault, Emma.” She began to cry too as she fell on her knees in front of me, taking my hands in hers. “Please forgive me, Emma!”
Now we were both wailing, and I didn’t know how to stop it.
The cell in my purse started ringing, and I had to take it out to see who it was. Through a blur of tears, I saw it was Mrs. Kramer. She had to be wondering where the hell I was.
Valerie took the phone out of my hands. “Who’s Mrs. Kramer, Emma?”
“Don’t answer it.” I took the phone back and turned it off. “I can’t talk to anyone. I’ll break down.”
“You’ve already broken down,” she reminded me.
As I stuffed the cell back into my purse, I started to calm down a little. I had to think of what to do. I couldn’t just spend the rest of my life sitting in Valerie’s dorm room crying my eyes out. That wouldn’t be any kind of a life for my baby—the one I didn’t know how to take care of in the first place.
“Valerie, I never got on birth control,” I finally managed to say.
“Oh,” she said then stood up. “That’s not a big deal.” She wiped her eyes and then straightened out her shirt, which had gotten all out of whack. “I’ll take you to the clinic I go to. They allow walk-ins. You don’t even have to pay; it’s all free.”
Somehow, the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth. It felt like if I just didn’t say them, then it wouldn’t be true or something like that. “No.”
She shook her head. “No? What does that mean, Emma? Don’t you want to get on birth control? I mean, you don’t want anyone to know you’re dating this guy. If you don’t get on birth control, then you’ll have to tell everyone that you guys have been screwing around if you get yourself pregnant.”
I just stared at her, hoping she wouldn’t make me say it. But she seemed kind of clueless. Or maybe she just didn’t want to think it either.
Without any idea of what to do, I reached into my purse and pulled out the little stick that had changed my life. Holding it out to her, I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see the disappointment on her face as my reality sank into her brain.
“Oh, no,” she whispered. Her arms came around me as she hugged me. “Oh, Emma.”
“I’ve really messed up, Val,” I whimpered.
“I know,” she whimpered right back. “This is bad, really bad.”
So, I hadn’t been wrong o
r overly dramatic. This really was bad. I’d messed up worse than I ever had before. And I hadn’t ever really messed up, so my parents would be genuinely shocked and utterly disappointed.
Christopher would hate me. I knew that for sure. He’d hate me for getting pregnant. He’d hate me for leaving him, which I knew I had to. He’d hate me for being so immature as to not get myself on birth control before giving myself to him.
And he’ll hate our baby too.
Chapter 21
Christopher
“What do you mean she’s not answering your calls?” I asked Mrs. Kramer, who seemed genuinely worried about Emma and her whereabouts.
Pacing in front of my desk, she answered, “I’ve called her ten times now. It’s after lunch, and she still hasn’t answered my calls. I went to security and saw video of her coming in this morning at a quarter to nine. Not twenty minutes later, she left the building, got in her car in the parking garage and sped off. She looked distraught, Mr. Taylor.”
The fact that I was just being told about this now aggravated me. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” I got out of my chair, planning to head down the hall to see if Sebastien knew anything about where his daughter might be. “Have you asked her father if he knows where she is?”
“No,” she said quietly. “I didn’t want to tell him anything in case she didn’t want him to know what she was doing. She asked me to keep him out of things where she’s concerned. You know how he treats her like a child. Surely you can understand why I didn’t go to him about this.”
“You could’ve come to me though,” I snapped at her, not meaning to.
She looked a little shocked as she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think the president of the company would want to be bothered over someone as insignificant as my assistant, sir.”
I saw her point and tried to control my anger, knowing it would seem unreasonable in her eyes, particularly if my relationship with Emma were truly as innocent as Mrs. Kramer and everyone else thought it was. “Sorry for snapping at you, Mrs. Kramer. You keep trying to call her. Leave her a few texts asking her to contact you because you’re worried about her. I’ll go see her father.”
We left my office with Mrs. Kramer headed to hers and me headed to Sebastien’s. I heard him on the phone just before I knocked. He ended the call then called out, “Come in.”
Entering his office, I tried my best not to come across as too worried. “Hey, Sebastien. Mrs. Kramer is worried about Emma. She came to work this morning but then left without telling anyone. And she’s not taking Mrs. Kramer’s calls either. Do you happen to know if she went home sick or something?”
“She’s not home. I was just on the phone with Celeste, and she didn’t say anything about Emma being there.” He picked up his phone. “But I’ll ask her just to be sure.”
Taking a seat, I tried to act like I was only vaguely interested in his daughter’s disappearance. “I’m sure she’s there. Tell her to check her bed and bathroom just to be sure.”
“Okay,” he said, waiting for the phone to be answered on the other end. “Honey, did Emma go back home this morning?”
“No,” I heard Celeste say. “Why?”
“Well, her boss said that Emma was here and then left without telling anyone. Would you go check her room and bathroom, just in case?” he asked his wife.
Waiting to hear what she said, I tried even harder not to show the worry that had begun to gnaw at me. Sebastien shook his head as his wife told him something, and then he looked at me, concern clear in his eyes. “She’s not there, Christopher.”
Getting up, I knew I needed to go check our cabin to see if she’d gone there for some reason. “Give Emma a call yourself, Sebastien. Maybe she’s upset with Mrs. Kramer or something and just doesn’t want to talk to her.”
“I will.” He called her while I waited by the door to see if she answered him. “Emma?”
My heart pounded. We’ve found her!
“Is she okay?” I asked.
He held up one finger. “Honey, stop crying. Tell me where you are.”
I couldn’t hear a thing she said through the phone, so I walked back toward Sebastian’s desk, hoping I could listen in. But before I even got within eavesdropping distance, he put the cell down with a puzzled expression on his face.
“What did she say?” I asked with concern.
“That she’s okay—and that she’s moving away.” He shook his head in disbelief. “And I’m not to worry about her. She’s a grown woman who can take care of herself.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” I spun around to go call her myself, but I wasn’t about to let her father know that. “I’ll let Mrs. Kramer know that you talked to her.”
Going straight to her office, I opened the door to tell Mrs. Kramer the news. I found her on the phone. She waved me in as she spoke to whoever was on the line, “I don’t understand, Miss Hancock. Why do you want to quit?”
Emma wants to quit?
Nothing made sense. Emma had left me around two that morning. She’d said nothing about any of the things she was now doing. Something had to have happened to make her do such a rash thing.
My ex-wife popped into my head. Did she talk to Emma and tell her some kind of lie about me?
Whatever it was, Emma had to talk to me about it. “Tell her to call me, Mrs. Kramer.”
“Miss Hancock, Mr. Taylor wants you to call him.” She held out her phone. “Or you can just talk to her now, sir.”
Shaking my head, I said, “Tell her to call me. Tell her to do it right now.”
“He wants you to call him right now, Miss Hancock,” she said. Then she frowned and hung up the phone. “Um— She said no and hung up.”
No?
Resisting the urge to storm off the way I wanted to, I shrugged my shoulders and walked away at a reasonable pace, trying not to show any a telling reaction. I kept walking out until I got to my car, which I quickly pointed towards the cabin, all the while trying to get Emma to answer her damn phone.
When I finally arrived at the cabin, I found it empty. She wasn’t there, and now I was really worried.
I took out my phone and texted her, asking her to call me and letting her know that I was sick with worry. I prayed she’d at the very least text me back. But she never did.
I knew one thing: Emma had only one friend in this world that she’d turn to if something was wrong. Only one person she trusted: Valerie.
The thing was, I didn’t even know the girl’s last name. I knew she was a student at Columbia in New York, but nothing more than that.
Going to the cabin’s bedroom, I found my laptop on the dresser. Emma had been using it to play games and mess around on social media that weekend. I hoped I could open her apps to see if she’d left any clues as to why she would run off that way.
As far as I knew, things were going exceptionally well. Emma and I were as happy as a couple of clams. She never complained about work—not to me at least. And her parents hadn’t bugged her about being gone every weekend.
In my opinion, she had nothing to run away from.
But then again, I didn’t know if she had any outside influences that might have gotten into her head.
Popping open the computer, I saw that she’d closed all the apps. Emma was the only one who used the device, so I thought she might’ve saved the passwords on some of her social media accounts.
One by one, I went through her accounts, and nothing jumped out at me. She’d liked some posts and made a few of her own, but nothing pointed to the reason she’d decided to leave.
I made sure to check the dates and times of the posts, to see if she’d posted anything recently. She hadn’t.
I did find out Valerie’s last name, and I could send her an instant message. I did—immediately.
Valerie, this is Emma’s boyfriend. I need to talk to her ASAP. Please have her call me.
Now all I could do was wait. And wait. And wait.
I fell asleep on the bed as I
waited for her to respond or for Emma to call. And the dreams I had were terrible. I’d never had a dramatic imagination, but with Emma’s unexpected departure, my brain went crazy.
In my dreams, Emma had been kidnapped by someone, and I couldn’t get to her. That morphed into Emma secretly hating me, and she ran away from me to put an end to our relationship. When I woke, I was panting; the dream had spiraled into me chasing her, running after her crying her name.
Checking the instant message box on the computer, I found no reply. In desperation, I typed another.
Valerie, please, please, I am begging you to convince Emma to call me. I’ve got to know why she left. Was it because of me?
Staring at the screen, I blinked with disbelief as one word appeared. No.
I had no idea what that meant, so I typed, No to what?
She sent back, It’s not because of you, exactly.
Then what is it? I sent back.
I got nothing after that. Not a single word came back to me.
What could it mean: Not because of me, exactly? Was the girl was playing games with me? And I felt like Emma had to be with her friend, or how else would Valerie know what was going on?
My cell rang, and I jumped off the bed, pulling it out of my pocket and nearly dropping it as my hands shook. The name on the screen wasn’t Emma’s though. It was my daughter Lauren calling.
“What is it, Lauren?”
“Well, hello to you, too, Daddy,” she said with a laugh.
“I’m in the middle of something, sweetheart.” I didn’t want her to hear the worry I knew threaded through my voice. “What do you need?”
“Nothing, really,” she said. “I just wondered what time you’d be coming home and if you and I and Ashley could go out to dinner this evening. I’m bored.”
“You could get a job, and then you might not be so bored,” I told her.
Her laugh told me she thought I had to be joking. “Daddy, you’re so funny. So, really, what time will you be home?”
I had no idea when I’d be home. “You and your sister can go and eat without me. I’ll be working late.”
“Maybe Mom will want to eat with us,” she whined. “You haven’t been spending much time with us at all. You’re gone every weekend, you know. We hardly ever see you. All we wanted was to go to dinner with you and spend a little time with you.”
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