Chapter 6 Stella
SIX
STELLA
“Motherfucker, that hurts,” Austin says as I clean the three-inch-long incision that runs along his shoulder.
As much as the doctors were hoping the surgery on his rotator cuff would be minimally invasive, they ended up having to clear out more scar tissue than expected once they got in there.
He’s in a lot of discomfort and has a long road ahead of him, but the first couple of weeks are always the hardest. He just needs to take it easy for now to avoid any setbacks.
“I know,” I reply with a cringe. “I’m sorry. Just let me get it covered, and we’ll be all done. Then I’m going to need you to eat before you take your meds, so you don’t get sick again.”
He rolls his eyes, and I raise a brow, because I already know what he’s thinking.
That he doesn’t need anything for the pain, even though I’ve already explained to him that it’ll help with the swelling, as well.
As amazing as Austin is, he’s also one of the most stubborn men I’ve ever met.
Lauren definitely made the right choice by recommending me for this position, because a softer, more people-pleasing nurse would let him get away with not following the doctor’s orders.
They’d back down to avoid rocking the boat because he’s a famous, rich, professional football player.
But I’ve been around athletes all my life, and I know how to handle them.
Austin learned pretty quickly that I have no problem going toe-to-toe with him when he’s being hardheaded to his own detriment.
And now, less than a week after his surgery, he’s starting to see that I only want the best for him—even if he hates it.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of bossy?” he quips, a coy smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. I’m actually loving his playful tone, because a few days ago, he was in much worse shape. So, if he’s in the mood to banter, I’m here for it.
“All the time,” I reply. “It’s my most redeeming quality. Anyone ever tell you that you have the insults of a third grader?”
He scowls up at me from his spot on the couch as I affix the bandage to his skin and stand to my full height. “I’m off my game, Stell. Give me another week, and I’ll knock your socks off with witty comebacks.”
“Mhmm,” I hum in response. “I won’t hold my breath. You’re too nice to hurt anyone’s feelings. I bet you’re one of those people who let cars merge in even though they had signs for miles telling them that the lane was going to end.”
He pauses, his lips pulling to the side as he considers.
“Okay, fine. You got me there,” he says, making me chuckle.
I fluff the pillow behind his head, shove the gauze wrappers into the pocket of my scrubs, and head toward the kitchen.
But before I even get out of the room, the ring of a loud doorbell fills the air around us.
“Are you expecting someone?” I ask, my brows pulled tight in confusion.
I’ve only been in the main house for a couple of hours on and off today, because he was all set up on the couch watching football and didn’t need me.
But I’m sure he didn’t mention having company.
Otherwise, I’d have taken care of his dressing change earlier.
I doubt he wants me hanging around while he has visitors.
“Yeah, sorry,” he replies. “One of my teammates texted after the game and asked if it was a good time to drop by. I already rescheduled with him once, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to hang out for an hour or two.
Would you mind letting him in, so I don’t have to try to get comfortable again?
It took me about twenty minutes to find a good position earlier. ”
I swallow thickly, my heart beating like a drum in my chest. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid.
I figured if I stayed out of the way and only left the guesthouse when Austin needed my help, I wouldn’t be around if anyone came to see him.
I was delusional to think I’d be able to do that, but I figured I’d at least know when to make myself scarce.
But here we are—a Renegade at the door, and me with no way out of answering it.
Let’s just hope it’s not the one person I absolutely don’t want it to be.
“Umm, sure,” I say quietly as the bell rings again, spurring me into action.
Blood pounds against my pulse points, sweat beading on the back of my neck even though there’s a chill in the house.
I tell myself it’s going to be okay—that there are over fifty men on a professional football team.
More, if you count the practice squad. I’m sure it’s one of them, and not the only person I’m trying my hardest not to see.
All I have to do is let them in, point them toward the living room, and fuck back off to the guesthouse.
Stopping at the door, I take a deep, soothing inhale, pasting on a smile as I pull on the knob.
But it immediately falls when my gaze locks onto the familiar face in front of me.
My throat constricts, and I can’t seem to take a breath, the sheer beauty of him rendering me frozen where I stand.
I’ve seen him on television, so the way he looks shouldn’t be a shock to me, but fuck—it is.
His hair is slightly shorter than it was in college, his soft curls a perfect mess sticking out from under his backwards cap.
His jaw is more chiseled, his shoulders so much broader than they were the last time I saw him.
I thought he was a grown man then. But now? He’s perfection.
“Emmett,” I choke out quietly, unable to say anything else. His deep brown eyes—the same ones that used to look at me with all the love in the world—go completely blank, confusion gradually building behind them as the seconds go by.
“Stella?” he rasps, his brows pulling tight.
He scans my face, surveying my features as though he can’t believe I’m really in front of him.
His chest heaves rapidly with each forced inhale, his expression hardening the longer we stand here.
His jaw clenches so tightly, I can practically hear his molars grinding, and I watch as his fingers curl into fists at his sides.
Any semblance of hope I had that he’d somehow be happy to see me if we ever came face-to-face again vanishes into thin air as he spits his next words like venom. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Breath whooshes from my lungs as though I’ve been physically struck, tears pricking at the backs of my eyes, because he’s never spoken to me with such vitriol—except for the day I blindsided him and said I wanted a divorce.
I can’t blame him for that, though. He was desperate and frantic as I blocked out every one of his pleas, only letting me go when he realized I had drawn my line in the sand.
“I—” My voice breaks, so I clear my throat, trying again. “I work here. For Austin. I’m his nurse.”
“Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head. His eyes have gone from studying my face to looking at the wall behind me, and I hate every bit of it.
I fooled myself into thinking that there was no way he could ever truly hate me.
Sure, I hurt him, and he has every right to resent me for the pain I caused.
But I just couldn’t bring myself to believe he was capable of unloving me after everything we’ve been through.
Clearly, I was very wrong about that, because there isn’t a single shred of the boy I used to know in front of me right now.
As much as that tears me apart, I know it’s exactly what I deserve.
I breathe deeply, ignoring the pit in my stomach. “He doesn’t know anything. I promise, I’ll stay out of your hair. You won’t have to see me at all.”
He steps inside, closing the space between us so our feet are practically touching.
My head spins at the proximity, and it feels like he’s siphoning the oxygen from my lungs, his chest puffing out as he towers over me with a bitter glare.
My bottom lip quivers, so I pull it between my teeth in an attempt to hide my emotions, but it’s no use.
There’s no way he doesn’t see how being so close to him after all these years apart is affecting me.
“I don’t see you, Stella,” he seethes. “I don’t even fucking know you.
” And with that, he pushes past, heading toward the living room and leaving me shaking like a leaf in the middle of the entryway.
My knees feel like they’re going to give out, my arms wrapping around my midsection as I do everything I can to hold myself together.
And as soon as I hear the two men greet each other, one unknowing and the other uncaring of the fact that I’m standing here completely broken, I take off, running toward the guesthouse as fast as my unsteady legs will carry me.
That was a million times worse than I ever thought in my wildest dreams. I should’ve never let myself imagine a happy reunion, but on the nights when my mistakes haunted me the most, envisioning his strong arms holding me as I begged for forgiveness was all I had.
I push through the front door, closing myself into the private space and making a beeline for the bedroom.
It’s not even dark out yet, but I say a silent prayer for sleep to come, so I don’t have to feel all the emotions raging inside me right now.
I was stupid to think I could work here and not run into Emmett.
I’m barely even into my time with Austin, and now I have to go on pretending that everything is fine—that I’m not terrified of seeing his teammate, who he has no idea I used to be married to.
What a fucking mess.
Throwing back the covers, I climb under before yanking them over my head to seal in the darkness.
Desperate for comfort, I clutch the pillow to my chest to feel less alone, but it doesn’t work.
Searing hot pain flows through me, and I lose the battle, a choked sob rising up my throat and echoing around me.