by Farlow, LK
"Really?" The hopeful edge in his voice flutters through my belly, but I tamp them down. I'm not ready to tackle the issue of us quite yet.
Lord knows, I need to work on me before I can even think about being a part of an us.
"Really.”
"There's a lot we need to talk about."
"Yeah." I glance his way, before returning my gaze to the curvy mountain road. "But can it maybe wait?"
From the corner of my eye, I see his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. "Yeah. Of course. Whenever you're ready."
"How is Stella? And Gabe and Zach?"
"They're okay. Good. Worried about you. But I've kept them in the loop."
"Thanks, I guess."
I hate this distance between us. I want so badly to reach over the console and take his hand in mine, to comfort him and to let him comfort me, but now I'm second-guessing every decision I make.
Plus who's to say he's even interested in me anymore? I can’t imagine he would be, not when he can have anyone.
Why on earth would he settle for me, especially now that he knows just how weak I really am?
A deep melancholy wraps itself around me. I'm so lost in my woe-is-me despair that I don't even notice we're parked outside of my dorm until he cuts the engine.
"Can I walk you up?”
"Sure, if that's what makes you happy."
I won't admit it out loud, but I'm secretly glad he's going to walk me. The last thing I want is to chance running into Melanie alone. A shiver rolls through me at the mere thought.
Sterling gives me a long look, one loaded with some deeply felt emotion I can't quite pick apart. "You," he says, opening his door and climbing out of his car. "You make me happy."
I follow after him, not quite knowing how to reply. I want to tell him that he makes me happy, too, but I can't.
How can I, when I'm not even happy with myself?
I'm on pins and needles until we step inside my suite. "Where is Stella?" I ask, scanning the empty suite, looking for any evidence of what took place here only a few short days ago.
"She should be back in just a bit. She didn't want you to be overwhelmed right when you got home."
"Oh. Okay." I walk farther into the space, my hands shaking slightly. "When will she be back?" For some reason the thought of being here alone makes me feel jumpy as hell.
"I...I could wait with you, if you want."
"Please. If you don't mind."
Sterling's eyes light up. "There's nothing more important than you."
I don't know how to respond to him, so I don't.
"Come sit with me," he says, dropping down onto the couch, patting the cushion beside him.
I do, and we once again lapse into a stilted silence.
"Can we... can we talk?" Sterling asks, finally.
"About what?"
"God, so much. We can start slow, I guess."
I nod, waiting for him to continue.
"First things first. I just want to get this out of the way, and please know, you don't have say anything back, but I love you. That hasn't changed, and it's not gonna change. If anything, my feelings have only grown stronger. My heart beats for you, Emmalyn. I'm sure you need time to process everything, but I'm willing to wait."
He laughs through his nose. "I'm not typically a patient man, but for you, I can wait."
I flex my fingers, clutching the hem of my sweatshirt. I want so badly to reach out to him, to pull him to me to hold him close. To press my chest to his and feel our hearts beating together, but I force myself to remain seated.
"Sterling, I..."
"You don't have to say anything."
"No. I-I love you, too. I do. I just need time."
Before he can say anything else, the door opens and Stella walks in.
"I guess that's my cue to leave.” He leans in, as if he's going to hug me, but stops short.
Deep breaths, I tell myself before I lean in, closing the distance between us, pulling him to me so our foreheads touch.
We sit like this for a few moments, content to just soak each other in.
"Thank you, Sterling," I whisper.
"Anything for you." He softly kisses my forehead before releasing me. It feels like a piece of me is missing as he stands and heads for the door. "See you soon."
Tears threaten to fall, but Stella claims his vacated seat before they have a chance.
She takes my hands in hers. "Don't you ever scare me like that again!"
"I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize. Just get better, you know? Get healthy.”
"I will. Promise.”
"I know you will."
“How's Gabe and Zach?”
"They're good. They've been really worried about you, but Sterling has made sure to keep everyone updated."
Stella laughs.
"What?"
"Babe. You don't even know."
"Tell me then."
"I think a lot of it he needs to tell you. But trust me when I say you are his priority. He's been at the hospital every day, almost all day, and when he wasn’t, he's been fighting to make sure that piece of shit stepbrother pays for what he did."
"Really?" A small thrill runs through me. "What about his classes and his TA duties?"
Stella gives my hand a squeeze. "I guess I'll tell you since you're gonna find out anyway. He stepped down from his TA position. He told his uncle he couldn't do it anymore, and he's been doing his classes remotely."
An indescribable feeling—some odd combination of joy and sadness and a whole lot of love—settles into my chest, sinking through my heart and into my soul. The fact that he's willing to basically put his entire life on hold... for me has me feeling some kind of way.
"That man definitely loves you."
"I love him, too."
She beams. "Good. Are you hungry?"
"Starving. Hospital food is the worst."
Stella crinkles her nose. "I don't know. I kind of like it."
"Gross."
"How about I order us a pizza and we invite your daddies over to eat?"
I very nearly choke on a laugh. "That sounds perfect."
Chapter Forty-Three
Sterling
“Is it done?” I ask, skipping over any and all pleasantries.
"Son, do you have any idea how late it is?"
"I do."
"And this couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?”
"Dad," I growl.
"Sterling," he growls right back. As much as I sometimes hate to admit it, he and I are a lot alike. "Yes. It’s done.”
Immediately a weight is lifted off my chest. “Tell me everything.”
He sighs, and I can just picture him pinching the bridge of his nose while pacing in front of his desk. Because, as late as it may be, I know for a fact he wasn’t in bed. Harold Abbot is nothing if not a workaholic.
“I talked to Robert Sunday night. He wasn’t very receptive at first, so I threatened to pull my support of his businesses. And when that wasn’t enough, I also threatened to advise other clients to walk away as well. Pearson Enterprises is nothing without me and the wheels I grease, so he agreed to my terms.”
“When does he leave?”
“Rob was on the first flight Monday morning. He’s already gone.”
“Where?”
“To a place he can’t hurt anyone ever again.”
“How do you know?” I ask, because damn if this doesn’t all sound too good to be true.
“Some things are better left unsaid, son. But he knows the consequences he’ll face if he ever comes back.”
“Which are?”
“He’ll be not only disowned, but also disinherited. All of the money in his trust would be forfeited to Emmalyn.”
“And you have this in writing?”
My dad scoffs. “I’m not an amateur, son.”
"I know." I stand and begin to pace. My apartment feels so lonely without her here. Hell, my whole life feels lonely, sa
d as it sounds. “Thank you.”
“That’s not all,” he says, immediately putting me on edge.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The remainder of Emmalyn’s college has been paid for. And Robert and Sarah will be making quarterly donations to several charities that help battered women.”
“Why?” I ask, even though I’m overjoyed at what he’s saying.
"I've made a lot of mistakes in the name of money, son. A lot of mistakes period. But I'm trying to make it right. I never should have helped that slimy little shit the first time around. I've never liked that kid."
"Then why did you?"
He sighs, and I answer for him.
"Money?"
"Money."
"Thanks for helping me, Dad."
"It's the least I could do. And, it's got your mom talking to me again, so that's another plus."
My phone beeps, and I go on high alert when I see it’s Stella.
"Dad, I—I gotta let you go."
I accept the incoming call before he can say another word.
"Stella, what's wrong?" There has to be a reason for her to be calling so late. It's nearly ten o'clock. "Is everything okay?"
"I don't know." Her distress bleeds through loud and clear. "She's having a nightmare, and I can't wake her up. I don't know what to do!"
"I'm on my way," I say, flying out of the house barefoot and shirtless. The cold doesn't even phase me as the wind whips across my skin. I only have one thing on my mind, and that's getting to Emmalyn.
I don't remember anything about the drive to campus. I have no clue if I passed another car, saw a deer, nothing.
My sole focus was on getting to my girl.
The second I throw the car in park, I shoot off a text to Stella, and she rushes down to let me in. Wordlessly, we both rush back up to the third floor to their dorm.
I hear her before I see her, but I'm still stricken by the sight of her thrashing and crying. She's begging someone to stop, for them not to hurt her.
Rage, scalding liquid rage, pours through me, because I know exactly who she's dreaming about.
Stella looks at me helplessly. "I tried to calm her down. Tried to wake her up. It was no use. She just screamed louder anytime I touched her."
I nod so that she knows I hear her, fully entering the bedroom.
My little mouse whimpers, and my heart cracks a little more. "It's okay. I'm here."
She moves fitfully beneath the covers, and on instinct I lie down beside her. Immediately she turns and curls into me. "Sterling," she whispers, still asleep.
Thank you, God. Instinctually, her body recognizes mine. "It's me, baby."
I hold her close as she sighs, snuggling into me and falling into a peaceful sleep.
"Thank you," Stella whispers before heading back to her own room.
I tell myself I'm only going to lie with her for a little while, just long enough to make sure she's truly okay, and then I'll move to the couch so that I'm here if she needs me again.
Except the next thing I know, it's morning, and we're both blinking ourselves awake.
"Sterling?" She yawns, confusion swirling in her brown eyes. "What are you doing here?"
"You don't remember?" I ask, and she shakes her head.
"Remember what?"
"Stella called me last night because you were having a nightmare and she couldn't calm you down."
"Oh." She looks away from me.
Ever so softly, I reach over and grasp her chin between my thumb and index finger, bringing her gaze back to mine. "What have I told you about hiding from me? Don't be embarrassed. You've been to hell and back more than once and somehow come out stronger every time."
"I don't feel very strong."
"You are. So fucking strong. You just can't see it yet, but you will."
"So Stella called you? I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Don't you know I'd do anything for you?"
"Thanks, I guess." She pushes the covers off of her and sits up. "Might as well make you breakfast since you're here. It's the least I can do."
"What's on the menu?" I ask, following her into the kitchenette.
She swings open the fridge door, and I shamelessly check out her ass as she bends over and looks inside. "Well, unless you want water and bread, we better order in."
I laugh at her put-out tone. "Or, I can run out and get us something from Holy Roasters."
"Really? You'd do that?"
"You know I would."
She closes the fridge and wraps me in a hug, shocking the hell out of me. "Thanks, Ster."
"Anything for you, baby." And I fucking mean it...
Anything.
Chapter Forty-Four
Emmy
After Sterling leaves, I head back into my room to get changed out of my pajamas. When I emerge, Stella's at the counter pouring herself a cup of coffee.
"So… I had a nightmare?"
Stella yelps and rocks back on her heels, clutching her mug to her chest. "Yeah, you did. It scared me."
Guilt and shame are pressing on me, making me feel about an inch tall. A fact my best friend doesn't miss.
"Don't feel bad, Emmy. It's understandable, you know?"
"Yeah, I know." And I do, but that knowledge does nothing to make me feel any better. "Why did you call Sterling?"
"I didn't know what else to do. But, babe, the second he was next to you, you calmed down. You stopped thrashing and crying and screaming, just curled into him and went right to sleep."
"Really?"
"Yes, and when I tried to comfort you, it just made things worse."
I'm not quite sure how to process what she's saying, so I stay quiet.
"Speaking of, where is he?"
"Oh, he went to get us breakfast. For you, too."
A cheek-splitting grin overtakes her face. "I'm telling you, that man is a keeper."
I glance down at my feet, wriggling my toes over the plush rug. "I know he is. I'm just worried I'm not."
"Emmy. He loves you, and you are so worthy of his love. Do you hear me? You deserve good things and to be happy and healthy. Are you gonna..." She swallows and looks away.
"Am I going to what?"
"Are you gonna see a therapist or anything?"
My eyes water. There's such a freaking stigma surrounding mental health, and in my family, it's better swept under the rug. And certainly never talked about. It's part of the reason, aside from the hell Rob put me through, that I wanted to go into the psych field.
Still, it feels strange to talk about it all so openly. "Yeah. Yes, I am. I know I need to."
"Good. I'm really glad. So where is he getting breakfast from?" she asks, mercifully changing the subject.
"Holy Roasters."
Stella does a little fist pump and drains the last of her coffee. "Don't need this anymore, but don't want to waste it either."
I can't help but laugh at her antics. "Never waste coffee."
"Precisely," she says, right as someone knocks on the door.
"That must be Sterling," I say as she heads to the door. "His hands are probably full."
Stella opens the door, but it’s not Sterling on the other side.
“Abigail, is everything okay?” Stella asks, but the red-headed RA rushes past her and wraps me in bone-crushing hug.
“Oh, my God! I am so glad you’re okay, Emmy!”
“Um.” I glance at Stella over her shoulder. “Thank you.”
“I was there,” she whispers, nodding her head toward the bathroom door. “With Sterling, when he…when we…”
Realization dawns. “Oh wow. Um.” Embarrassment now trumps all other emotions warring inside me. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”
“Emmy.” She grasps my shoulders and waits until I’m looking her in the eye. “You have nothing to apologize for. Just focus on getting better and know if you ever need an ear, I’m here for you. Okay?”
I nod, feeling as hopeful as I do awkwa
rd. “Thanks, Abigail.”
“Anytime.”
There’s another knock. “That has to be Sterling,” Stella says, rubbing her hands together, no doubt already envisioning gobbling up her food.
“That’s my cue.” Abigail hugs me once more before turning for the door. Except, when she opens it to leave, it’s to a man who is most definitely not Sterling.
"Where would you like these?" asks the uniformed delivery man.
My roomie turns to look at me. "Where would I like what? I didn't order anything."
"Are you Emmalyn Price?"
"Yes, but—"
"Your name’s on the label," he says, cutting me off.
"I guess put it on the coffee table."
He nods and then turns around, stepping back into the hall, only to return with the largest bouquet I've ever seen.
"Good Lord! Who do you think it's from?"
Stella gives me a droll look. "You know who it's from."
"They're gorgeous." But why would Sterling send me these?
The delivery man turns back toward the door and I move to close it behind him, but he stops me. "Not quite finished yet, ma'am."
I cast a confused look Stella's way, expecting her to be equally as mystified. But she's not. Nope, my secret-keeping roommate sports a very knowing look.
He makes two more trips in and out; once with a standard, nondescript brown package, and once with a humongous cellophane-wrapped gift basket. "That's it," he says, shutting the door behind himself.
"Thanks," I murmur dazedly, but he's already gone.
Stella, meanwhile, is grinning like a loon. "Girl, just wait. He actually tried sending this stuff to the hospital while you were there, but they told him he couldn't. So, he arranged this instead."
"Why?"
"Babe." Stella looks at me like I'm utterly clueless. "He's got it bad for you, and he did all of this when he thought you were never gonna speak to him again. So..."
"I-I don't even know how to process this, much less where to begin."
The front door swings open, and Sterling walks in.
"Might I suggest starting with the card attached to the flowers, then the package, and then the basket." He winks. "Go on, dig in, and I'll heat up our breakfast sandwiches. I told them not to so they wouldn't get soggy."