Being here with people who love me makes me realize how fragile I’ve been. I was completely alone and heartbroken in New York. I mean sure, I had Molly and Aaron, but I’ve known them all of three months. It’s not the same as having family around, the ones who will stand by your side through thick and thin.
I don’t know where I’m going with Jameson, only that I didn’t want to speak to him tonight. Why?
Maybe I’m never going to let go of this hurt; maybe he’s done irreversible damage.
Maybe I’m too good for him and his shit . . . there’s no maybe in that sentence—I know I am.
My phone vibrates on the side table, and I frown as I see the letter J light up.
I exhale heavily and answer, “Hello.”
“Hi.” He pauses for a moment. “You weren’t calling me tonight?”
“I got distracted.”
Silence down the phone. Eventually he speaks. “Em.”
“Yes.”
“Did you go there to get away from me?”
I roll my eyes in frustration. “No, Jameson,” I whisper angrily. “Why is everything about you? I booked this trip two weeks ago.”
“Okay, I just asked. Jesus. Why are you so angry?”
Tears form in my eyes. “You really have to ask?”
“You tell me why.”
Suddenly a volcano that I didn’t even know was there erupts inside of me. “Because I’m in love with a selfish fucking asshole, and I don’t know how to turn it off, and I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop and for you walk away again,” I blurt out in a rush.
He stays silent.
“And the way you just march back in and demand my forgiveness pisses me off.”
He listens.
“And you could have any woman in the world; they are lining up for you. So why are you putting me through this shit? I don’t want the heartache, Jameson.”
“Is that what you think? That I want any woman in the world?”
Tears roll down my face, and I swipe them away angrily. “I have no idea what you want anymore, Jameson.”
“Cut the fucking shit, Emily,” he snaps. “You listen, and you listen good. I don’t want anyone else. I’ve been promiscuous since I was eighteen years old. I’ve slept with a lot of women . . . and I mean a lot of women. You are the only person I have ever had this connection with. The only woman I have loved like this. So don’t you dare throw that shit at me about wanting someone else. Have I ever given you any reason to doubt me?”
“Your masseuse,” I snap.
“Was before I fucking met you,” he growls. I can hear the anger in his voice. “If you don’t want me, then fine, I’ll leave. But don’t let me hold out and try desperately to make things work when you’re obviously not going to let me in.”
My face contorts with tears.
“Only you can decide if you want this, Emily. Forgiveness is a choice.”
I stay silent.
“Do you want to walk away from me, or do you want to try and make this work?”
I don’t answer him.
“Well?” he demands.
“You know I want to try,” I whisper.
“Then stop thinking of the bad shit, and think of the good between us.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you scare me.”
He falls silent. “You’re scared of me?”
“Yes.” I nod through tears.
“Baby,” he whispers as empathy floods his voice. “Don’t be scared of me. Please, don’t ever be scared of me. I love you.”
“I’m trying.” I sob. “But I can’t help it.”
We both stay silent for a while, lost in our own thoughts.
“I want you to take this weekend to think about us. I was serious about what I said—if you don’t want to live in New York, we can move. I’ll resign from my position immediately.”
“Jameson,” I sigh. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I want you to know that you come first to me now. All of this shit—my money, my apartment, my job, New York—it means nothing if I’m fucking miserable, Emily. And believe me, I am fucking miserable without you. If you want to live in a tent in the back of bumfuck nowhere, we can.”
I get a vision of Jameson living in a tent and being eaten by mosquitos on the daily. “You idiot.” I smile softly. “I don’t want to live in a tent. I love New York. I love you running Miles Media. I wouldn’t change anything about you. Why would you think that I would?”
“Because I’m a lot to take on, I know that. You said to me once before that to love is to be brave. I need you to be brave, Emily, and move forward from all this. Please think about it. Come back to New York and back to me one hundred percent, and we can start working on a new life together. Holding me at arm’s distance isn’t the way to navigate this. We won’t be able to work it out if we’re not together.”
“I know,” I whisper.
“Will you think about what you really want?”
I stay silent.
“Please, Em?”
“Yes, okay. I will. I promise.” The line falls silent for a moment, and I want to change the subject. “What are you doing tomorrow?” I ask.
“Shopping.”
“Shopping—you? What are you shopping for?”
“Well, where do you get the tents with bathrooms in them?”
I smile. “Bumfuck nowhere.”
He chuckles, and it’s a beautiful sound; it does things to my insides. It’s been a long time since I heard him laugh.
“Em . . . I’m not going to speak to you again until I pick you up from the airport on Sunday night. I want you to really think about your future and who you want in it. Either you come back to me with open arms, and we give this a red-hot go, or you end it.”
My heart drops.
“It has to be this way. If I can’t have all of you, I would rather be without you.”
I listen as my mind begins to go into overdrive . . . he’s giving me an ultimatum.
All or nothing.
I honestly don’t know if I can give him my all. I don’t think my all exists anymore.
“I’ll see you then?” he asks hopefully.
“Okay.”
“I love you.” He hangs up, and the line goes dead.
I roll over in the darkness and exhale heavily.
What do I want for my future? Do I give him away . . . ? Or give him everything? Or what’s left of my heart, at least. It’s been smashed to smithereens.
I literally have no idea.
Chapter 27
Jameson
I tap my foot as I crane my neck to look at the traffic backed up in front. Shit.
I press the buzzer to the front of the limo. “Are we going to be late?” I ask Alan.
“No, sir; we’re an hour early. Plenty of time.”
“I don’t want to miss her flight. Go the back way.”
“You won’t. Relax.”
I sit back and try to control my nerves. Emily hasn’t contacted me all weekend, and I’m pretty sure she’s coming home to end it between us. I’ve run and run and run. The only time I have had any semblance of peace is when I’ve pounded the pavement around New York.
I can’t accept the possibility that I won’t be in her life, that she won’t be in mine . . . the thought sickens me.How could I have been so fucking stupid?
I’ve been trying to pull a logical argument together in my head as to what I’m going to say if she ends it . . . so far I’ve come up empty.
The limo pulls up at the airport, and I climb out in a rush. “You’ll be here?” I ask.
“No, I’ll circle. Let me know when you have her, and I’ll come back around. You still have fifty minutes before her plane lands.”
“Yes, yes, I know.” I pat down my pockets as I look around nervously. “Do I have everything?” I’m flustered and vague.
“Yes, sir.”
I drop my shoulders and exhale heavily. “Wish me luck.”
Alan smiles broadly and, with a jovial nod, says, “Good luck, sir.”
I walk into the airport and up to the arrival gate of her plane. I still have forty minutes. I look over to the bar, and it calls my name in a sweet song.
A scotch would be so good right now . . . take the edge off.
No.
I need to cut that shit out. I haven’t allowed myself to have a drink all weekend. Emily deserves more than a drunk.
With nerves racing through my body, I walk to one end of the airport and then back to the arrival lounge. I glance at my watch. Thirty-five minutes to go. I do it again and again.
I can’t sit still.
Not when I know what’s coming.
Emily
I walk with the crowd into the arrivals lounge. My flight has just landed, and my heart is beating hard in my chest.
I’ve dug into the bottom of my soul this weekend, searching for the answers.
Trying to work out what to do with my life and who to do it with.
One thing is clear: the only thing that is clear . . . is who I love.
I can’t deny it.
Jameson Miles is etched into my heart, and as petrified as I am of him hurting me again, his words keep coming back to me. “To love is to be brave.”
I’m going to swallow my pride and be brave. I’m going to let myself go . . . and hope to God I’m doing the right thing, because I can’t go through this again.
He comes into view, and he smiles as our eyes lock. Excitement fills me, and I do a little skip and begin to run, and I jump into his waiting arms. We cling to each other tightly, locked in an embrace. We don’t speak; we don’t kiss; we just hold on.
Clinging desperately to the hope that we can get past this.
My shadows are chased away for a little while.
“I missed you,” he whispers into my hair.
“I missed you too.”
He bends, and his lips take mine as we forget where we are. His tongue slowly strokes through my open lips, and he holds my face in his two hands as we get lost in the moment. His kiss is tender and, more importantly, familiar.
With him, I am home.
An hour later, we walk into my apartment, hand in hand.
We hardly spoke on the way home. I sat on his lap, tucked safely in his big arms, and enjoyed the closeness. His lips dusted back and forth over my temple as he held tight, as if not believing I was here with him.
I’ve missed the closeness. Our closeness.
It’s not even about the sex with us anymore. I mean, it was in the beginning. But my heart has eclipsed any physical need that my mere body desires . . . and I know he’s the same.
He turns me toward him, and his eyes search mine. “Em . . .” He pauses as if trying to get the wording right in his head. “I swear to you, from this moment on . . . you are my everything. Our new life together . . . starts right now.”
I smile up at him as my eyes fill with tears anew. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” We kiss, and unlike the tenderness we have shared over the last hour, a new desperation fills us.
Suddenly I want him . . . all of him. “Take me to bed.”
He scoops me up and carries me into the room like a bride and stands me before him. His lips drop to my neck, and I smile at the ceiling as goose bumps scatter over my skin. He bites me with an edge I remember so well.
Oh, I’ve missed him.
I lift his shirt over his head and throw it to the side, and he does the same to mine. We become animals as we tear each other’s clothes away. There is nothing between us now. Only skin . . . and love.