by JA Low
Turning and looking at her, Emma just shrugs, her arms are still wrapped around her as if she’s protecting herself from the outside world. She looks pale, her sparkle has completely gone.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” She shakes her head. “Okay, then I’ll get your bath ready.”
Turning on my heel, I disappear into the bathroom, and when I come back out, she’s gone.
I check the living room—nothing.
Then I head into our room—nothing.
Then the spare room—where she is setting her stuff up.
“What are you doing?”
“I need my space.” Emma’s eyes are devoid of emotion as she talks to me.
I have to bite my tongue, remembering what Noah told me.
“I can sleep on the floor in our room, and you can have the bed.”
She frowns at my suggestion. “I…” She nervously plays with her hands. “I just need to be alone for a little bit.” She can’t look at me.
What the hell is going through her mind at the moment?
Does she not know how much I love her?
“Okay, baby, I understand.” It takes everything in me not to lose my mind over her pushing me away like this. “Your bath is ready.”
She nods, and I turn and walk out of the room.
She doesn’t come to our bed that night.
I knock on her bedroom door the next morning. She doesn’t answer, I turn the handle, but it’s locked.
Shit, she’s locked me out.
“Ems,” I say through the door. “Breakfast is ready if you want some.”
“No, thanks,” she calls back.
“You need to eat, baby.”
“No, thanks,” she says again, but this time her tone is firmer.
My shoulders slump, and my heart aches as I move away from the door.
Emma doesn’t emerge from her room all day, and no amount of coaxing with food or anything else gets her to move. I’m becoming more than a little worried about her.
“Hey, bud, how you going?” Noah answers his phone, cheerfully.
“Not real good, man.” My throat constricts just thinking about Emma. “She hasn’t come out of her room. She’s not eating or drinking.”
Noah is silent for a couple of moments before he says, “I’m sorry.” I can hear the sincerity in his voice. “Chloe says she will pop over tomorrow to check in on her. Maybe she can do something.”
“I really appreciate that, man.”
“Hang in there, buddy,” Noah tries to reassure me.
Hanging up the phone, I make my way back to my bedroom and jump into my bed. Alone.
46
Emma
“Ems, it’s Chloe.” A light knock filters into my room.
“I’m fine,” I call out to her.
“I know, I just want to check in,” she insists.
Urgh. Why won’t people just leave me alone so I can mend myself?
Kicking back the covers, I stomp over to my bedroom door and open it. Chloe has a large smile on her face with a solemn-looking Anderson standing beside her.
“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Anderson says before disappearing.
Chloe walks in with a brown paper bag and a couple of coffees. “Here… Anderson says you haven’t been eating.” She hands me the brown paper bag. I open it and find some muffins and bagels. My stomach takes that moment to growl.
Chloe gives me a look and bursts out laughing, and I find myself smiling for the first time in what feels like ages. It feels strange, especially as the scar across my cheek twitches with pain, reminding me it is there. I slump back down on my bed, cross my legs, and nibble a muffin.
“Well, you officially look like shit,” Chloe starts.
“So.” Shrugging my shoulders, I simply don’t care.
“Anderson is worried about you.”
“So,” I tell her.
Chloe gives me a look that tells me she isn’t too pleased with my answer.
“He’s only trying to help.”
Taking a sip of the coffee, her eyes narrow on me.
“I don’t want his help.”
“He’s your husband, Ems. He loves you and wants to help.”
I shake my head.
“Ems… I think you should see someone,” she mentions quickly. “I don’t think you’re processing the accident very well.”
“Oh, I’ve processed the accident, okay. It’s not my fault you don’t get it.”
Chloe frowns. “Ems, I understand.” She reaches out and touches my hand. “What I went through with Tracey was horrible. I had to work through it. I’m a work in progress.” She shrugs.
“I know you had it worse than me, Chlo. I know you all think I’m being shallow for being upset over losing my looks…” I trail off because I am becoming hysterical.
“Hey.” Chloe tries to help as my emotions spin out of control. “None of us think you’re being shallow. You had a serious accident. Stella is struggling, too. She can’t walk and is stuck living with EJ.” I look up at her. “I know, right?” Chloe chuckles. “You’d think it would be Stella’s dream, but she hates it. She’s feeling sorry for herself at the moment, especially since her dickhead of a boyfriend dumped her because he couldn’t handle looking after her.”
Oh, God, my stomach sinks for Stella. She doesn’t deserve that. Stella is the most beautiful, tender-hearted woman, I know. I should probably send her a message.
“She and EJ are either going to kill each other or fall in love.” Chloe grins.
“She’s okay, though, other than her broken leg?” Right now, I am feeling like a selfish bitch for not asking about any of my friends.
“Yeah. She has a lot of bruising, but other than the leg, she’s fine.” I nod my head in understanding.
“Ems, you can talk to me.” Chloe grabs my hand again, turning the conversation back to me. I shake my head as tears well in my eyes. I pull my hand away from hers and curl up into a ball again.
“Ems, I love you, and I’m worried.”
“I’m fine.” I refuse to look at her.
“The doc said you can take your bandages off today,” Chloe adds.
“Please, Chlo, don’t!” My eyes well up as my hands begin to shake, a sheen of sweat falls across my body at the thought of taking the bandage off my face and seeing just how much of a monster this accident has made me into.
“I love you, Emma,” Chloe tells me.
I shake my head and bury my face in my hands.
“And when you’re ready, we will all be here. Okay?” She pats my leg, and I nod my head. “I’ll let head out, but remember, I’m only a phone call away,” she tells me.
I don’t look up, but I hear the creak of the door and the gentle click as she exits the room. I roll over and pull the blankets up and gradually fall asleep.
It’s dark and quiet when I wake again. Turning to the bedside table, I read the time—2:38 a.m. I’ve been asleep for twelve hours. Wow. I must have really needed it. Jumping out of bed, I tiptoe across the carpet into the bathroom to relieve myself.
As I’m washing my hands, the bandage catches my attention in the dimly lit room. My heart begins to beat wildly in my chest as my hand touches the fabric.
Do I want to see what’s underneath there?
My nail picks at the tape, and it pulls at my skin. Slowly, bit by bit, I pull the tape off, and the gauze falls from my face, exposing the black and blue angriness underneath.
My face is swollen and a little misshapen from the swelling and bruising, but the deep angry scar runs from my temple to my chin. Looking at myself in the mirror, I don’t recognize the person I was before. She’s gone. And what’s left is a shell of a woman who once was.
Tears fall down my cheeks as my fingers touch the scar that runs down my face, feeling the raised line and bumps as I go.
Looking at the image in the mirror, I repulse myself. I’m disgusting. I’m an embarrassment for Anderson. His freak wife on his arm while all the
se young socialites and models batter their false eyelashes at him with their perfect faces.
He’s going to turn and look at me and think, Fuck, I had it all with this one. I had the most beautiful woman for a wife, and now I have her.
47
Anderson
Waking up with a sinking feeling in my stomach, I turn over and touch the space where Emma should be, right beside me. I miss her. But I know I have to be patient. When she is ready, I’ll be there.
Jumping up out of my bed, I head on out to the hallway to check on her, but I’m surprised to see her bedroom door is fully open. Hope fills my chest that she’s finally out of her room. I pop my head in, and the bed is empty.
“Ems,” I call out into her room, but she doesn’t answer. Maybe she’s in the kitchen. Turning around, I rush down the hallway and into the living area, but it’s empty. “Emma?” I call out into the apartment, but I’m greeted with nothing in return.
An envelope catches my attention, sitting on the kitchen counter. The closer I get, the more realization hits me as I see her engagement ring sitting on top of where my name is scribbled.
Oh, baby, no.
My heart- is breaking bit by bit, the closer I walk to the envelope.
Picking it up, I turn it over and pull out the letter she’s left.
Dear Anderson,
Let me start off by saying I’m sorry.
I think you deserve someone better than who I am becoming.
Our life wasn’t supposed to turn out like this, but I guess fate had other plans for us. You were the first man I ever thought I could live my happily ever after with, but I guess in this fairy tale, I’m destined for the shadows, not in the light with you.
I’ve returned the twelve million dollars to your parents’ account. I don’t feel it’s fair to keep the money, not after everything, especially as we will no longer be together.
We’ve had fun, Andy. You made me realize what real love could feel like, and I will always thank you for that.
Maybe one day you will forgive me for this, but I have to go.
I wish you well.
Emma
xoxo
No. No. No.
Crumpling the paper, my legs give way, and I fall to the floor.
Emma has left me.
No. No. No.
How does she not know how much I love her? I thought I had been perfectly clear about the way I felt about her. Why would she ever think that I couldn’t love her because of a scar on her face? Does she not realize the vows I said out loud, I still believe in? ‘In sickness and in health… till death do us part.’ Those words mean something to me.
Standing, I rush to my bedroom, grab my phone off of the side table, and make a call.
“Dude, it’s fucking early,” Jackson Connolly groans.
“I need your help.”
“Okay,” Jackson replies upon hearing the desperation in my voice. “What can I help you with?”
“I need you to track down my wife, Emma Banks. She disappeared last night, and I found a note from her this morning. She’s left me.”
Silence filters through the phone.
“I’m sorry, man,” Jackson finally says. “I heard about the accident.” My brow furrows at his comment. “Elise told me.”
“Please, man, I just…” raking my hand through my hair, “… I don’t want anything to happen to her.” A sick feeling stirs in my stomach. Please, God, don’t let her do something to herself, I will never forgive myself.
“I’m on it. Send through all the info you have, and I’ll find her. I promise you, Anderson, you will get her back.” And with that, the line goes dead.
I text Jackson Emma’s personal details and wait for him to find something. I shoot off a text message to Noah, and moments later, my phone is ringing.
“What the hell is going on?” Noah screams down the line.
“I don’t know, man, but she’s gone.”
“Chloe is trying to call her now, but it keeps going to voicemail,” Noah tells me.
“She left me, bro. She’s walked out on me.” My legs fail me as I fall back against the sofa. “I love her so much. I should have tried harder to tell her, or make her see, or something…” Tears well in my eyes. “This is my fault. I didn’t make her feel loved.”
“Andy, no,” Chloe joins in the conversation. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. She’s going through something, and she’s scared. And her instincts tell her to run, and that’s what she’s done,” Chloe tries to reassure me. “Emma’s way of dealing with things is shutting them out and moving on. She’s so used to looking after herself, not relying on people, that when shit happens, she shuts down and won’t let anyone in.”
My heart feels like it’s been scooped out of my chest with a spoon.
“She still loves you, Andy. She’s just going to take some time to sort her shit out. I thought she might have changed now she’s in a stable relationship, but…” Chloe lets out a sigh, “… I see she has returned to what she knows best.”
“I have to find her,” I tell Chloe. “I can’t let anything else happen to her. I love her.”
“I know you do,” Chloe reassures me. “We’ll find her, I promise.”
A couple of hours later, Jackson calls and tells me she got on the first flight out of New York to Paris this morning, which means she will be landing any moment, so she has a day start ahead of me.
I tell Jackson that she has a sister who lives in France, I think in the south, but I don’t know her sister’s surname.
He tells me that Elise has already given him her sister’s name, and he is tracking her down as we speak.
I’ve made a call to my pilot and organized for the plane to be ready.
Looks like I’m going to France.
48
Emma
“Oh my God, I’ve missed you so much.” Amelia pulls me into her arms and holds me tightly.
I’m exhausted, physically as well as mentally.
Especially from all the funny looks everyone has been giving me when they see the scar across my face. I knew it. I knew people would look at me as if I am a freak. I have a dozen missed calls from everyone in New York, but I can’t talk to them. Not yet. I know they will tell me I’m being stupid, that I’m being selfish, and that Anderson loves me. All the kinds of shit I don’t want to think about.
“What’s happened to you?” Her eyes fall to the scar on my face.
“I have so much to tell you.”
Amelia nods at her and ushers me into her home. We stay up until the early hours of the morning as I fill her in on everything that’s happened between Anderson and me.
“Why didn’t you tell me about all this?” she questions.
Shrugging, I tell her, “I’m not sure. I guess because I knew, in the end, it was never going to last.”
My sister strokes my hair as I rest my head against her shoulder. “Sounds like he’s a good guy,” Amelia states.
“He is. Was. I don’t deserve him.”
“Why don’t you think you deserve happiness, Ems?” my sister questions.
“You and I are just not lucky like that.”
My sister sits up straight and makes me look at her by holding my face, her features turn serious. “You think because of Mom and Dad that we don’t deserve a happily ever after?” She sounds angry at me.
“I don’t know. We are hard people to love,” I squeak out my answer.
“Why would you think that?” Amelia frowns.
“I don’t know, okay.” Standing, I begin pacing the room. “Maybe because all we got in life was this.” Waving my hand over my face. “That’s all I’m good for is to look pretty.”
“Ems. No.” Amelia rushes over and pulls me tightly into her arms. “Sweetie, you are so much more than a beautiful face.”
“I have to be now because I don’t even have that,” I confess while crying to her shoulder.
“Oh, Ems.” She hugs me tightly. “You ar
e so beautiful, even with this scar on your face,” she tries to reassure me. “You’re smart, successful, and you have great friends. A hot husband.” She waggles her brows, and I frown at her. “I googled him when you were in the bathroom.” She smiles. “I love you. So many people love you. You don’t need to run anymore,” my sister reminds me.
“I think maybe this accident has brought up some childhood trauma, and you’re not able to process it.”
She’s right. I have been having flashbacks of the accident and seeing the faces of Mom and the creepy men she used to keep company with. Things feel like they’re spiraling for me.
“I feel so out of control.” I break down again while Amelia tries to calm me down.
“I’m here for you, and I’m never going to let you go. You hear me?” I snuggle into her embrace even more.
Eventually, I fall asleep just before the sun rose. I remember hearing the stomping footsteps of my nephews’ hours earlier as they made their way to school before drifting off to sleep again.
Finally, the sun that’s shining into the room is too much for my body, and I am forced out of bed. Grabbing my robe, I slowly make my way down the stairs. I hear murmurs of multiple voices the closer I get to the kitchen.
Turning the corner, I’m surprised to see my sister sitting there happily, chatting away with my husband.
How the hell did he find me?
Their heads turn as they hear me entering the room. My hand rushes to my face as Anderson sees my scar for the first time without the bandages, but his eyes don’t even flick to the scar. They stay fully focused on me.
He looks relieved but upset with me.
49
Anderson
I traveled all night to get to Emma. I probably stink to high heaven, but I don’t care. I need her to know that I love her, no matter what, and I’m not going anywhere, no matter how much she might try and push me away.