39. Chapter 37
Emery
As I close the door behind me, I’m a tiny bit disappointed to find that I’m alone. I thought that at least Oakley would be in the dorm, but she must be out on a sugar baby date or something. Sighing, I shove away from the door and go to my bedroom, overcome by the need for a shower.
Today was…something.
A double daddy dose in one day was a little too much.
Xavier doesn’t count as a daddy anymore. I’m used to him being in my space now. He is kind of like a lampshade, casting a shadow but not actually intruding, so when I see him, it’s not really like seeing a daddy. He has become furniture at this point. Easily ignorable.
Mostly.
Except for when it is really fucking clear he has been in my bedroom.
I stop dead at the sight of my bed, which is no longer messy, unmade, and with a pillow on the floor, like I left it.
The perfectly made bed with its fluffed-looking pillows has a huge-ass bouquet of very colorful flowers, a box of something that can only be chocolates, and a stack of books wrapped together with a thick lavender ribbon. There is also another fucking envelope.
Clearly someone came in here at some point today to set this up.
And if that letter is from Hudson, was it before or after his class today?
Now I’m kicking myself for deciding to study in Alderidge Hall.
I should have come back to the dorm, but I’m so fucking tired of being trapped in my room because Xavier is in the living area.
As much as I’m used to him being here, I also haven’t wanted to actually have him in my personal space. But maybe that needs to change. Maybe, instead of hiding myself away, I need to ignore him out loud. Like I did with Hudson today.
That is a problem for later. Right now, I need to deal with the situation on my bed. And figure out what I’m eating for dinner. Dumping my bag onto the floor, I approach the bed like one of the gifts is going to launch itself at me and carefully scoop up the flowers.
The flowers are, well, they are stunning. And now that I’m holding them up to my face, I’m surrounded by the beautiful scent of them. There are pinks, whites, reds, yellows, and a bunch of greenery. Gorgeous, really.
And as I suspected, the box is full of chocolates, little fancy ones that are all different shapes but have swirls and dots, nuts and tiny flowers. They look like they were individually made by a monk in the highest tower on the tallest mountain or something.
The paperbacks are a bunch of standalones, but I only recognize one from TikTok. Something about a girl dating a guy, but his twin is somehow involved. Looks interesting. The other two are a vibe all of their own, with naked man chests. One has a mask and the other, I suspect, is cowboy-related.
I snicker at the idea of Hudson standing in a bookstore, picking these for me to read. Ha. I wonder if he needed help or just picked whatever looked good.
And now for the letter. The last one was like a knife to the traumatic backstory. I really hope this one is better and less stabby.
Kitten,
Seeing you today was the highlight of my day. I’m sure that you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay. I completely understand. I just want you to know that I’m still here. We are all still here. Whenever you are ready.
Even if all you want to do is tell us to fuck off.
We aren’t going anywhere.
Hudson.
Also, did you know that it has been 31 days since we met? It’s our one-month anniversary. I hope you enjoy the flowers.
One month? Really? Has it only been that long? I start to do the mental math, but then a thought comes slamming into my brain and my stomach lurches.
I forgot Oakley and my’s friendaversary. Fuck.
Okay, no, this is fine. I’ll order her a gift online and then give it to her when it arrives.
Crisis averted, I turn and fall until my butt plonks onto the bed, the chocolates jostling in their little paper cups at the jolt they receive.
One month.
One whole month since they changed the trajectory of my life.
I mean, I was never going to allow anything to get in the way of me walking across a graduation stage, but I’m sure at some point that a job really would have been required, which would have only been a distraction from school, potentially even delaying my graduation date.
But thanks to that one night—hell, that entire weekend—I won’t have to work. I won’t have to wonder how I’m going to buy new clothes. Not that they have let me spend any of my money on clothes or anything like that.
One whole fucking month.
I vaguely remember there being some rule of thumb or whatever about how long it takes to get over a breakup, like half the time of when you were together.
Something like that. Okay, so, if I’m remembering that correctly, that means it should take less than two weeks for this empty-hearted feeling that I’ve been carrying around to go away.
And, well, that was two Fridays ago. So, if two weeks is this Friday, then maybe Wednesday next week? Two more days of feeling like trash, and then I should be back to my usual happy self.
Well, less angsty than this version of me, anyway.
Okay, cool.
A few more days.
But I’m not waiting that long to reclaim my space outside of this bedroom. I miss my trashy reality TV, and as much as all the reading options I have now are amazing, I read way too much for school already. I just want to watch a rom-com on the TV.
Xavier will have to take it or leave it.