Adding to my anxiety is the fact that Aria hasn’t replied any of my messages either. After last night, I don’t expect her to. I had half-expected the crazy bitch to come to the hospital and key my car, though. She’s volatile when she’s mad. And I made her mad. No scratch that, Tyler made her mad. None of this would be happening if he hadn’t stuck his fucking nose in my business. Why does he care so much about Emily’s feelings? They’re not his fucking feelings to worry about.
I turn left. Once I calm Aria down, I can work on Emily and plot how to get rid of my pain in the ass brother.
Arriving at her place, I see the lights in the shop off. I walk around to the side, the only glimpse of light visible from the crack below the door. I move the ceramic frog aside, and find the key missing. Not unexpected. I knock, quietly at first then growing more desperate, until eventually my fists are pounding solidly into the wood. The door opens a fraction, and I immediately push my hand against it. It rebounds fiercely against my wrist, bending it back painfully.
I look up to see the metal chain still fixed to the door. “Aria,” I say with a sigh.
“Go the fuck away, Blake. Did I not make myself clear yesterday?”
“You know I can’t be away from you,” I plead.
“You’ll have to learn!”
“Please, Aria. I promise I won’t touch you, or step a foot out of line, I swear. But I need to see you.”
I hear a huge sigh come from behind the door, then a pause, and eventually she unhooks the chain separating us. I barge in and pull her into my arms, kissing her violently. Owning her. She shoves me back mercilessly against the entry wall. She’s little, but she knows how to fight back.
“I said, don’t touch me,” she growls through gritted teeth. She turns and walks into the small kitchen. The table is strewn with papers.
“What’s going on?” I ask with a frown.
“None of your business,” she says. “Say what you came here to say, so you can leave.”
“Baby, you don’t actually want me to go,” I say softly, taking a step forward. She glares at me with a warning look.
“The way you spoke to me was unforgiveable. These papers,” she says gesturing to the mess on the table, “are the financials for this place. I’m selling it, Blake. So I can get away from your toxicity. So I can stop hearing your motherfucking ass tell me that you’re my sugar daddy! You made me feel like a whore! I thought I meant more to you!”
“You do!” I counter. “You mean everything to me.”
“Oh really?” she replies, laughing sardonically. “Is that why you’re marrying someone else? Since this chick showed up, I have taken second place in your life. And I’m done.”
“You can’t be done. We can’t be done. I need you.”
“Then make a choice. Do it quickly. Because if you don’t, this is the last time we speak. Ever.”
“I love you,” I say desperately. Worse, far worse than Emily leaving me, is Aria leaving me.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” I ask hopefully. I’m desperate for her forgiveness.
“No. This time Blake, it’s all of me, or none of me. I’m leaving New York, regardless of what your decision is. So if you choose me, you choose to leave with me.”
“What would we do for money? Where would I work?” Is she crazy, asking me to leave everything behind?
“If I mean as much to you as you say I do, then it should be a no-brainer.” I never expected an ultimatum like this to come from Aria.
Aria turns her body away from. The conversation is over, at least for her. And she’s stubborn. There’s no reasoning with her. This ultimatum is rock solid, and she will follow through on every word of it. I turn and leave, feeling both dejected and rejected. What am I supposed to do?
Arriving at the apartment, I notice that Emily is already asleep. Her back rises and falls slowly, evenly. I walk to the bed, kneeling at her side and kiss her softly on the cheek. She doesn’t stir. I need to feel wanted, needed. I need to know that someone loves me. Is here for me. But Emily doesn’t wake. She moves her head, facing it away from me, and my heart sinks.
I stay awake all night, not quite giving a fuck that I have work in the morning. Why the fuck should I care about the sick and dying? I’m dying inside, and no one gives a flying fuck! My mother and her pressure. And Emily. Well, Emily is just distant lately. She doesn’t have the same look in her eyes when she sees me anymore. Aria is just plain fucking pissed. I’m starting to get the distinct impression that they hate me. All of them. All I was really trying to do, this whole time, was to please everyone.
And look where that’s getting me. If I leave with Aria, I give up everything: my social status, my mother’s approval, my money, my future, my whole life here. But I would have Aria, the only woman on earth who is crazy enough to understand me. Emily was everything I thought I wanted. Now, Emily is synonymous with the claustrophobic future I have in store. She is the mascot for a life of servitude to the Carson name, and all the shit that goes with it.
And as much as I want to, I can’t even fucking blame Tyler. I was the one who spent the last five months trying to convince myself that I was madly in love with Emily. Emily deserves better. Aria deserves better. I couldn’t be what Emily needed, but I can be everything for Aria. I hesitate momentarily before punching a text into my phone and hitting send. Step one: my resignation. I just sent a text to Chief Resident Jules. I just resigned my job by fucking text message. And I smile, finally happy with something I’ve done.
Chapter 19:
Emily
Pretending to be asleep when Blake gets home every night is getting old. After being with Tyler, I don’t want Blake to touch me anymore. The mere thought is reviling to my senses. Again, I’m complicating this situation for myself. After seeing Tyler again, I had finally made peace with my decision to talk to Blake. End things with him.
But then Blake was gone before I woke up this morning. And I had spent an hour looking around the apartment, thinking of how good he has been to me the last few months. Remembering how lost I was when I got to New York. Realizing that I actually had so much to thank him for. I’m so consumed with my own emotional rollercoaster that I fail to even pause to reflect on Blake’s absence.
“We need to talk,” I begin, barging into Tyler’s apartment an hour later. His smile immediately dissipates when he sees my serious face. He walks over and leans against the kitchen counter. I can’t focus. My mind keeps reverting to the memory of him inside of me yesterday. I relive the memory of me on the barstool, millimeters away from Tyler’s present position. I need to get my bearings here. More than just wanting to be around Tyler, I wanted to be with Tyler. But where would that leave Blake? How could I abandon him like that? I knew how that felt.
“Tyler,” I start again, looking down. “This has to stop. I made a commitment to Blake.” There, I said it. But then Mac’s words float into my mind. Love and commitment are not mutually exclusive. “I had to pretend that I was sleeping last night, because I couldn’t bear to look Blake in the eye.”
“So leave with me,” he says simply. “Leave him.”
I look at him in disbelief. “Emily,” he says softly. “You don’t want to be there. You want to be with me. Admit it.”
“If I do that, then I have to admit to myself that what we did yesterday was terrible. Only it wasn’t. But because of my commitment to your brother, it was wrong. Very wrong,” I say sadly.
Tyler rubs his forehead in frustration. Then his brow creases thoughtfully. “Are you sure Blake is committed to you?”
“I know he is,” I reply confidently.
“Do you love him?”
“Yes. I may not always like him, but I do love him.”
“And you’ve never doubted him, in any way?”
“Tyler, where is all this coming from?” I ask, confused. “This whole situation is too wrong. Even if I leave Blake and go with you, I’m always going to be the girl that fucked his brother.” I look to th
e side and see Tyler’s packed suitcases. “It’s a good thing you leave soon. Before this all got too far out of hand. Before—”
“First of all, I didn’t fuck you. What happened yesterday or the day before doesn’t deserve such a trashy definition. To call it that is offensive to me and my feelings for you. Second, why do you care about what everyone else thinks? And before what? And why?” he asks. “Because you think it will make it easier for either of us? It won’t. It’s just distance. He doesn’t deserve you, Emily. I don’t even know if I do.” Tyler drops his head in frustration.
“I don’t deserve him after what I did to him yesterday. The day before I can blame on the champagne, but what do I blame yesterday on?” I rebut.
“God damn it, Emily! Why would you say that? He doesn’t deserve you. Blame yesterday on how you feel about me, and us.”
“We were wrong!” I say, matching his frustration. I turn, also realizing that no amount of talking will make this any easier.
“He’s cheating on you,” Tyler says softly.
Wait, what? I don’t think I heard right. “I’m sorry, what?” I say softly, turning around to face him. Looking for an indication of a lie. But his eyes plead back at me resolutely. There is not a trace of deception within them. Tears fill my eyes. “You’re lying. Why would you lie about something like that?”
“I’m not lying.” Tyler walks over and holds my shoulders. “Tell me when you look at me, that you really think I’m lying.”
I already know that I can’t.
“I would have left weeks ago! Do you think I enjoyed staying in this apartment and listening to you have guilt sex with my brother every time you spent the day with me?”
“It was…that loud?” I ask, cheeks blushing with embarrassment.
“The walls are made of plaster, not titanium,” he quips, staring at me with a distasteful expression.
“But Blake would never do that,” I repeat, tears threatening to spill onto my cheeks. “And I haven’t slept with Blake since you and I…”
I suddenly remember the tattoo on Blake’s back, the late nights. I had all the evidence in the world to support lies on Blake’s part, and none to support lies from Tyler. Except… “Please tell me you aren’t just saying this to hurt my and Blake’s relationship.” It’s not hurt that makes me cry. It’s the feeling of betrayal. The feeling that I was stupid, that I now look stupid for defending Blake if what Tyler says is true.
He drops his hands and turns his back to me. “I got this a couple of nights ago,” he says, showing me a still-healing tattoo across his left shoulder blade, the only one on the right side of his back. TE Amo. From high school Spanish, I seem to recall that it means, I love you. “From Aria.”
A small pang of jealousy burns in my gut.
“Your fiancée turned up there at two am, and these bruises,” he says pointing to his face, “are the result. Aria said that they have been together for two years. Continuously. Up until last night. Do the math, Emily. I didn’t want to tell you. I still don’t want to tell you. It tears me up inside to see you so hurt. But I also can’t just sit around and watch you be oblivious to what he’s doing. You need to see who he really is.”
I shake my head violently, remembering again the tattoo on Blake’s back. No, no, no. He’s lying. That man treated me like a queen. He was the one who I was going to marry. If what Tyler is saying is true, then when he met me, when he proposed on one knee, when he kissed me and when he lay in bed with me at night and when he took my virginity...
Were all lies. Deceit. According to the word of a man I’ve known for a few weeks now. A man who stands to gain everything from breaking Blake and I up. But does he really want me under those circumstances?
I turn and walk away. Towards the door.
“Emily stop,” Tyler calls. “Please.”
I stop, but I don’t turn. I hear nothing for a few seconds, and then Tyler appears in front of me, holding a small slip of paper. “I hope, for your sake, that you are right. That Blake is a changed man. That he loves you as much as he says he does. Because if he doesn’t, I know I did. I do.”
“Telling me all this doesn’t make what we’ve done okay,” I say quietly.
“Why would I lie? Yes, I want you. But I’d never purposely break your heart just to win you. I’m not Blake!” Tyler says desperately.
“You have everything to gain from breaking Blake and I up.” I lay my thoughts out for him, tears filling my eyes. “You’d get me, and you’d get the chance to rub it in his face.”
“No matter what you may believe, I will always tell you the truth. Always. You don’t have the kind of love with him that you deserve. Your commitment doesn’t mean a damn thing to my brother.” Tyler presses the paper into my hand and kisses my forehead gently.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking the paper and reading the address on it. I stare up into Tyler’s beautiful brown, entrancing eyes.
“Proof, either way. If you never need to go there, proof that Blake loves you. But the next time he works late, or doesn’t come home, go over there. Go around to the side of the building. There’s a key under a small ceramic frog at the door. I hope you find the answers you’re looking for.”
“Are you leaving soon?” I ask miserably.
Tyler’s eyes fall to the floor. “I’m not going to stay here and watch you be with Blake. Not when I know what he’s doing. Ask me to stay with you and I will, but don’t ask me to stay under those circumstances.”
He takes a step to the side, letting me pass. My eyes fall sorrowfully on the bags standing neatly against the wall. I turn and kiss him, one last passionate, sorrow-filled kiss. I pour everything I feel into it. His hands weave through my hair. Neither one of us wanting to let go. He waits for me to speak.
The conundrum is myself. Me and my stupid will to do what is right. I walk out of Tyler’s apartment, casting one final glance back to see him standing against the counter, his head bowed in defeat. Once I’m safely out of earshot, I let the violent sobs wrack my body.
Chapter 20:
Tyler
I could have changed Emily’s mind. I wanted to. But in reality, she would have never truly been mine that way. She would have been the girl that I stole from my brother. She would have hated herself for betraying Blake, and I would have hated myself for making her do it. I had honestly expected her to believe me when I told her about Blake and Aria, though. I was devastated, and truly hurt by her disbelief in me.
I know that Blake will go back to Aria. He can’t help himself, because my brother is an absolute dog. In fact, with the sheer volume of my hatred for him over what he did to Emily, I think the canine reference is way too nice. I actually like dogs.
Emily hasn’t knocked on my door since yesterday. I wait for her. But she doesn’t come back. Sometime around midnight, I jump on my bike and go for a ride to clear my head. It’s about time I faced reality, and the reality was that Emily very much felt like she owed Blake something. And nothing I said had changed her mind. Not even telling her about Aria.
Maybe Eliza was right. I am impulsive, and spontaneous. And it had worked in my favor, until now. The way I felt about Emily had seriously impaired my thinking and processing. I had caused her guilt, which resulted in her feeling sorry for my idiot brother. It would have all played out on its own eventually. But I pushed it, and now it’s just a fucked up mess. I’m no different than Blake. He wanted Aria, irrespective of who he hurt. I wanted Emily, irrespective of who I hurt. I hate feeling sorry for myself. It’s probably easier for her if I do leave. At least that way, Emily has some distance from me to work through her feelings for Blake. And for me. It’s pretty fucking stupid logic, but it’s what I’m choosing to go with.
I skip my run the next morning, and email the travel editor I’m working with, telling her I’ll be in Rio by tomorrow. I book a red eye flight out of JFK and make my way to my Jeep. I have one more bone to pick before I leave. I pause at Blake’s apartment. One heart-wrenching s
tep away from knocking, I decide against it and leave, bags in hand. She made her choice, and now I need to make mine.
Normally, I would be excited about driving to the Hamptons. Because normally, I’m driving there to go to the beach cottage, to get lost in the peace. However, my agenda this morning involves my mother. I’m almost positive that she knows about Blake and Aria. I’m sure that she knows about the money Blake’s giving her. After all, Blake lives off my mother, since he spent most of his formative years after high school blowing his trust fund, one dime at a time. And definitely not on Medical school.
I pull up two hours later at the expansive Carson mansion, relieved that the drive is over. Two hours to mourn a loss and think, uninterrupted, is a long fucking time. My feet hit the gravel as I exit the car. The crunching sound reminds me of my childhood, when we came up here for summer vacations. When Blake and I were still close. When I had no idea how conniving my mother could truly be.
I walk in and greet the staff as I see them, most scurrying around, cleaning and polishing to make the house ready for the summer. The large, marble-tiled hallway stretches before me, giving way to a grand staircase. Every inch of this house exudes expensive elegance. And I hate it.
A clicking sound emerges from the kitchen. I see my mother approach, an unhappy scowl on her face. She must be in a good mood. “I presume you’re here to discuss your brother.”
“Hello, son. I’m well, thanks for asking,” I reply sardonically.
“Blake has already called and appeased me of the ‘situation.’”
I laugh sarcastically. “So I was right. You did know about Blake and Aria. You knew that he was seeing her, and yet you still forced his and Emily’s plans for marriage. Did you have any consideration for that girl at all?”
Scared of Forever (Scared #2) Page 13