Stephanie stayed quiet on the other end. The words had slipped out, not that he wished them back. He loved her and there was no way anyone could take it away from him or make him believe they had anything less.
“I would have….” He wiped a hand over his face. “Is she okay?”
“She’s Emma. She wouldn’t complain or mope around. It’s not like her.”
“I only want the best for her. If I’m not it….” The knot in his throat wouldn’t let him finish. “Stephanie?”
“Give her time, Damian,” she said.
“What are you saying?”
She snorted. “You heard me.”
“Why would you say that? You don’t even like me.” A sliver of hope edged its way to his heart.
“I never said I don’t like you. I don’t like how you treat your parents. How you treat your family as if they don’t matter to you.”
Quiet reigned on both ends for a while.
“But I can see Emma does mean something to you.” She broke the silence.
He sat down on his bed. “I do care about my family.”
“Then stop punishing them. They know they were wrong. Mark regrets not sticking up for you. He tells me so all the time.”
“He never said….”
“You men never do.” She gave an exaggerated sigh.
He smiled. “Okay then. Thank you, Stephanie.”
“What’s family for if we can’t give each other advice?”
He hung up and for the first time since the airport, a weight lifted from his chest. He could move.
Chapter Sixteen
The next couple of days Emma got ready for school.
They were required to go in early to start on their new lesson plans and have a quarterly meeting. It was going to be a hectic stretch until exam time. And she still needed to have another parent-teacher meeting in the first school week.
It had been a crash landing when she stood in front of her apartment and waved good-bye to Stephanie and Mark.
Mark would bring her car later when he had a chance. She asked Nomsa if they could carpool while her toe still healed. And her friend had immediately agreed.
She had to commend Nomsa; so far she hadn’t pried; she waited for Emma to tell her about what happened. The sex scandal was all over the news.
The fact Damian had gone out with a local girl seemed to be news in Worcester and she had even been featured in a couple of newspapers.
Their breakup had been a hard pill to swallow when she went to her local supermarket and a picture of herself and Damian with a yellow blaze going down the middle of the picture was emblazoned on the front pages.
All of the magazines seemed to be of the opinion the latest sex tape had caused their split. They hammered on how she left Damian at the altar.
The first time she read the headline, she rolled her eyes, but now it wasn’t so funny anymore. She hoped the whole story would die down very soon.
She avoided any TV show having to do with entertainment news. She didn’t surf the Internet like she used to. And most importantly, she didn’t breathe his name.
From past experience, she knew suppressing everything was a bad idea but she wasn’t ready to reminisce about what happened between them. The relationship had been so much more than fodder for tabloid magazines.
Emma came out of her reverie with a start. Her class would be there shortly. She got up from behind her desk. She had work to do.
The afternoon after her first day back at school, she let out a breath and turned to the door when a light knock came.
She smiled at Nomsa. “Hey.”
“Do you also feel like you need a shot of something?” She flopped down on a desk.
Emma laughed. “I keep forgetting how much energy they have after a break.”
“I had a headache after first period.” Nomsa held onto her head.
Emma opened a drawer and took out a container and shook it. The pills inside rattled.
“I always keep them close by. Want one?”
“Ah. Yes, please.”
She handed over a glass and the container.
Nomsa walked over to the small sink in the corner of the classroom at the back. “Thanks.” She swallowed and then rinsed the glass and placed it on the sink.
“Want to come over. I can make dinner.”
Emma’s eyebrow lifted. “You’re going to cook?”
“Don’t give me that look. It was chicken curry. It’s supposed to be hot. You’re going to have to trust my cooking. I won’t use Indian masala like last time. Promise. Scout’s honor.” Nomsa saluted.
“You burned my tongue off.” Emma grinned.
“I won’t be making chicken curry.” She walked back to the front of the classroom and handed her the container of pills back.
“I should hope not.”
Nomsa smiled. “We haven’t had time to catch up. You can make dessert.”
“Or,” Emma said, “I can buy dessert on our way to your place.”
She placed the pills back in her drawer.
“You’re so lazy!” Nomsa pointed a finger.
“It would be awkward with my foot.”
“Oh, I forgot. How was it today?” She slapped her forehead.
“Okay.”
“As long as you don’t damage it further.”
Emma shrugged. “Won’t happen.”
“Well then. Let me go finish getting ready for tomorrow. At what time did they say we have to meet?”
“Half past one,” she said.
Nomsa nodded.
With a wave she left, and Emma turned to her empty classroom. This was her life. And it was about time she got back to it. The heavy feeling in her chest would pass. It had to.
***
The weeks went by and her life fell into its old rhythm. Emma didn’t have to use crutches anymore, which made work much easier.
The month of October had them all busy; even Stephanie had been busy with her many social clubs and organized some charity gala.
When talk of the end-of-year office party started, Emma gave a polite nod to all the suggestions while knowing she wouldn’t attend—like usual.
Nomsa actually got an e-mail from Greg and they had been corresponding ever since. He hadn’t asked her out yet and it had almost been a month but that hadn’t kept Nomsa from hoping.
Emma couldn’t berate her friend. She knew of all the turbulent emotions of being head over heels—a heady and consuming emotion. And yes, she could now say she wouldn’t have wanted to make a pass on the experience.
Needless to say she missed him. Even as busy as she had been the last couple of weeks.
Knee jerks of what-ifs tortured her. When she walked into stores and the latest picture of him graced the covers of magazines, she still pointedly turned away. She didn’t want to imagine what it would be like when they saw each other at family functions.
Emma commended herself for not having turned into Bridget Jones.
Though she had to be honest, she did rent the first French movie he had starred in and the next day went out and bought it.
Yes, I’m delusional. I can admit it.
But she hadn’t gone off the deep end completely. When Nomsa finally asked her what happened, she told her everything. Nomsa’s reaction though had been the last thing she had expected.
“What? And you left, without working it out?”
Emma’s eyes had gone big then. “Yes. He lied to me, Nomsa.”
“Because after a week of knowing you, he knew how rigid you are.”
She couldn’t believe what her friend said. “Nomsa you can’t seriously be okay with him lying?”
“No, I’m not. But, Emma, when someone means as much to you as he does.” She gave her a glare and Nomsa had quickly rectified. “Did. You at least give them a chance.”
“To do what? Lie to me again?” Her heart had pounded as anger coursed through her veins.
“No to make things right. To prove to you they are wo
rthy of you.”
And she remained angry, until Nomsa changed the subject.
She knew why she had been angry with her friend. Hadn’t I contemplated the exact same thing countless times?
Maybe she reacted too quickly. She had wanted to protect herself and didn’t even think. Maybe they could have worked things out. Maybe she had been a little too black and white.
But she hadn’t dwelled on them because she made her choice. She left. And he let her go.
Emma didn’t know how much it bothered her until she had been home a week, in her tiny apartment, washing her dinner plate and glass. When she remembered how they said good-bye at the airport.
There wasn’t a final attempt to keep her from leaving.
How much had he loved me if he could let me go?
She stopped pondering the aching thought of whether his love for her was real, too. It wouldn’t accomplish anything.
And moving on from these back-and-forth questioning in her mind was probably what lead her to say yes when Richard had asked her to accompany him to the charity gala Stephanie had organized.
She wasn’t even sure for what charity, but she agreed anyway. She needed to move on and the gala seemed like a good start.
Emma sat on her sofa, stretched out, and picked up a book she tried to finish for the last week. Her phone rang, and she frowned at the interruption.
She sighed at the caller ID. Her mother. Her mother hadn’t taken the news of her “engagement” being broken off well. Emma couldn’t bring herself to tell her it had all been a lie. She told her Damian and she lived very different lives. It wouldn’t work out.
When her mother broached the subject about the scandal, she had been surprised. Her mother never followed celebrity news. But since she had dated a celebrity, it did make sense she would be interested in him. And Emma had to admit to her, yes, the breakup had something to do with the scandal.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hey. How are you?”
“I’m good. Made lasagna,” she added, knowing her mother would want to know if she ate.
“Oh, sounds nice!” She paused. “Stephanie says you’re going to the charity gala with Richard.”
Her mother had met Richard and Emma got the impression she liked him, but she never really verbalized her opinion of him.
“Yes. He asked and it would be nice…to go out.” She cringed at the word.
“Honey, I don’t want to interfere, but are you sure you’re ready to date again?”
Emma’s brow lifted. “I don’t understand. I’m going to a charity gala.”
“With Richard,” her mother added.
“And?”
“He’s not going with you because he thought it would be nice to go out.”
Emma swung her legs off the sofa. “Spit it out, Mom.”
“You know he’s interested in you. It’s not another night on the town for him.”
“And it is for me?”
“Yes.” Her mother didn’t mince words.
Emma placed her hand over her face. “I need to move on.”
“You can’t use him to move on honey.”
“But,” she tried.
“I won’t tell you what to do. It’s your life.” Emma rolled her eyes.
“And stop rolling your eyes!”
“How did you know?”
“I’m your mother. I know everything!” Her mother laughed.
“Incredible. How are you doing, Mom?”
They talked for a whole hour about her mother’s new business endeavor. Event planning.
***
Damian probably should have let Ian handle the scandal, but this time he didn’t want to run and hide. He was the victim. As much as he regretted what he had done, he hadn’t regretted it as much as the day Emma discovered his lie and left him.
And so he decided if he was going to start to make things right, he would have to face the music this time.
The adoring public wasn’t as forgiving as they had been before, though none of the backlash was aimed at him.
The general belief had been Lizle leaked the story after feeling scorned by him because he chose Emma over her. Their engagement seemed to have thrown her over the edge. Reportedly, naturally.
When he met with Lizle, she claimed the contrary; however she didn’t deny going to Emma and telling her the truth about them. She said someone had to. In her superior tone, she told him she had simply assumed what everyone had: Emma was a diversion. She didn’t know he was actually serious.
He left it at that, but he made sure to tell her Emma wasn’t and never would be a diversion. He let Lizle know in no uncertain terms he would never be interested in her.
Although he didn’t let slip what he planned to do, his gut instinct telling him Lizle would sabotage it out of spite.
He took what Stephanie had said into consideration, but also knew both of them needed the distance. It would give them perspective.
Emma needed to work things out in her heart before he could see her again.
He didn’t have such problems. He wouldn’t have asked her to come with him to the States if he had. He had never made a commitment to a woman before, but always knew if he one day did, it wouldn’t be for something as superficial as a diversion.
The movie went on without production being stopped because of the scandal. It spiked anticipation for the film even more. And as they finished up, the premiere had been postponed. He didn’t commit himself to anything else afterward, deciding this would give him ample time to pay his parents a visit.
The premiere would be months away. He could spare the time. At least that had been the reason he told himself.
Stephanie had started him thinking on his family and how he treated them. They hadn’t been happy when he quit medical school, but if he was honest, he had also thrown them away. Instead of talking things out with them, he took off.
In his anger, he simply blamed them for not understanding or supporting him. Though he constantly spoke to his mother on the phone, he hadn’t spoken to his father other than the Sunday he took Emma to lunch with him.
Even then, he had used her as a buffer. It was time for him to bridge the gap.
As his plane landed, Damian steeled himself for what would follow.
Unlike his earlier visit, he wasn’t hiding. He wanted Emma to know he was back in the country.
Ian wasn’t with him, but he had arranged transport and some bodyguards to keep the worst of the paparazzi away.
He wasn’t going to stay at the beach house; he headed straight for Stellenbosch. He had phoned his parents beforehand to ask if he could stay for a couple of days. His mother sounded happy when he asked her. He didn’t speak to his father and didn’t want to yet.
The things they had to say to each other wouldn’t work over the phone.
As he motored down the highway to the small university town, he couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. He wasn’t looking forward to a talk with his father, but he knew it had to be done; he wasn’t running anymore.
As always his mother greeted him. And though she didn’t ask, he knew she wanted to know what had happened between him and Emma. During their call, she had hinted at it, but he’d cut the conversation short. Now he knew he wouldn’t have the luxury of a phone.
His father surprised him by actually coming out of his study without being called. “Damian.”
“Father.” They shook hands. His mother went to see about refreshments and left them alone.
“How are you doing, Damian?”
“Fine. I finished a movie, so I have some spare time.” He gave a polite smile. He hadn’t been this awkward since high school. “Father….”
“Damian….”
They spoke at the same time, both of them giving a genuine smile, a mirror image of the other.
“Go ahead,” Damian conceded.
His father cleared his throat. “Your mother says the premiere’s in a couple of months. I…I told her we should go.”
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Damian’s eyes went big. It would be the first any of his family had gone to a movie premiere of his. “I would like that.”
It was his father’s way of an apology.
Then Damian did something he hadn’t done in years; he asked, “How are things at the hospital?”
The afternoon was spent in this communal way. They caught up and showed an interest in each other lives. When his mother took him to his old room, memories had been on all the walls. She hadn’t changed a thing. A knot lodged in his throat, and he couldn’t speak.
She came and rubbed his back and said, “It’s good to have you home.”
With those words she had left him to rediscover his old room. He took out his phone and made a call before going down for dinner.
He got Mark’s voicemail. “Mark, I’ll be there.” Then he ended the call.
***
Emma gave herself a final once-over.
She’d listened to what her mother had to say and agreed, but she also needed to move on. Her mirror image had a determined expression. So she called Richard and told him why she said yes. She didn’t want to play games with him. He should know the score.
Now, here she was in a sea-green dress, which flowed softly to her knees, showing off the strappy gold sandals she wore. She had been so thankful she could wear high heels again that she didn’t spare her feet.
Emma bit her lip and wondered if it was a good idea.
Her hair had been swept to the side and rested on her one shoulder, even her fringe, giving her a cheeky look. She loved it.
She checked the time on her gold watch, the only accessory besides her gold earrings.
“Would you help me with this?” The back of Nomsa’s dress was still unzipped.
Emma smiled. “Come over here.”
She zipped it up quickly.
Nomsa pulled a face. “I can’t believe I agreed to this. I don’t like blind dates.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “You’ll be fine. Richard’s a nice guy.”
“Yeah but he’s your sloppy seconds.”
“He’s never been my sloppy anything. And you know it.” She ran a hand over her hair.
Nomsa checked the time. “He’ll be here any second. Is everything okay?” She did a twirl.
Falling for Mr. Unexpected Page 17