Chapter 11
ELEVEN
EMMETT
I sit in the chair in the corner of Stella’s bedroom, watching her as she sleeps peacefully.
After she put down an entire plate of spaghetti and two pieces of garlic bread, she passed right out, clearly exhausted from what she’s been putting herself through.
I should have left hours ago, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes away.
The room is practically pitch black, save for the moonlight that filters through the sheer curtains, but it’s lighting up her face enough for me to study every feature, trying my hardest to burn them into my memory.
The tension that swirled around us while she was awake is nowhere to be found now, giving me the first feeling of peace I’ve had since she came crashing back into my life.
I know I shouldn’t be here, now that she’s resting comfortably, but every time I try to walk out of the room, something keeps me rooted in place right where I am.
I can’t stop my mind from wandering back to the day she told me she didn’t want to be married anymore. I could tell her demeanor was off as soon as we left the party, but it wasn’t until the next morning that she explained the things she heard.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it, or are we going to spend the weekend acting like everything’s fine?
” I asked, making her body go rigid in my arms as we sat with our backs against the headboard and a movie playing on the laptop in front of us.
I thought for sure we’d be in for a night of making up for lost time, but she told me she hadn’t been feeling well and just wanted to go to sleep.
I agreed, considering the fact that we had the rest of the weekend to be alone, but as soon as we opened our eyes that morning, I knew something was up.
She wasn't cuddly like I’d come to expect, getting out of bed and showering alone even though we had done it together hundreds of times before.
As the day went on, tension filled the space around us like a balloon that was about to explode at any second, until finally, it did.
“Do you ever wonder if we rushed into this?” she asked, making my head rear back in shock as she turned my way.
She had shown up at my doorstep just over twelve hours earlier, claiming that she couldn't go another day without seeing me, and now she was questioning our marriage? It didn't make sense.
“Rushed into what?” I replied, desperately needing more clarity. We’d spent our entire lives falling in love over and over again in different ways, so her thinking that we had rushed into anything was hard for me to comprehend.
Her eyes dropped to the hands that were wrung together in her lap, a rough swallow working its way down her delicate throat. “Getting married,” she said, the words barely audible as they fell from her lips.
My body went rigid, and I sat up straight, setting the laptop onto the nightstand as I attempted to process the question.
How had we gone from the excitement of a surprise visit to having doubts about our future overnight?
“No,” I stated firmly. “From the moment I bought your ring, I knew it was the right decision. I know you’re worried about doing the long-distance thing, Stell, but it isn’t forever.
We’ll be back together before you know it.
” Her eyes welled with tears, and I reached for her, but she twisted away.
A sharp pain shot through my gut at the action, but my brain still wasn’t understanding what her sudden trepidation had stemmed from. “Tell me what brought this on.”
She swallowed, eyes welling up with tears.
They spilled over, and she batted them away quickly with the backs of her hands.
“I realized last night that this is nothing like I expected. While you were looking for Dexter, I met some girls who were quite positive they’d be able to turn your head.
And while I know you’d never cheat on me, I can’t seem to shake this nagging feeling that one day, you’ll regret not seeing what other options were out there before you tied yourself down to me. ”
My brows pulled in, anger slowly building inside me because what the fuck?
Stella and I had been inseparable since we were five years old.
We had seen each other through some of the happiest—and the hardest—times in our lives.
When her grandma passed away in the tenth grade, I held her and told her it was going to be all right.
When I broke my leg at football camp our junior year, she was the one who rushed to a hospital almost six hours away to be by my side.
She had my UCLA acceptance letter framed because she was so proud of me for going after my dream of playing pro ball.
And now, she didn’t think our bond was strong enough to make it through this stage of life?
“That’s what you think?” I asked, my fingers flexing until my nails bit into the skin of my palms. “That I would just toss you aside for a woman who could never know me the way you do? That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard, Stella.”
She huffed an incredulous laugh, standing from the bed and creating space between us. It was only a few feet, but it may as well have been a thousand miles with the way she looked as she shoved clothes into her bag, tears continuing to fall as her movements became rough and jerky.
“It’s not dumb to me, Emmett,” she said.
“Maybe I was na?ve because we grew up in a small town where everyone knew we were together, but I never wanted to spend the rest of my life in competition with random strangers. And don’t say that I’m not, because according to those girls last night, the ring on your finger doesn’t mean a fucking thing. ”
I scoffed, standing, my insides vibrating as I tried to keep myself in check.
“Funny you say that, because if I recall correctly, I practically had to beg you to marry me. Had I not poured my heart out to you on those steps, we wouldn’t have even made it into the courthouse that day.
You know damn well that I’ve been all in on us the whole time, Stell—it’s you who can’t get out of your own goddamn head long enough to realize it.
I’m done begging you to trust me when I tell you we’re going to be okay, and that you’re the only one I see.
If you want to let fear and insecurity tear us apart, there’s nothing I can do to stop you.
But for fuck’s sake, get it over with, so we can move on with our lives. ”
My chest heaved, the words tasting like acid as they passed over my tongue, but I was so hurt and frustrated that I said them anyway.
This wasn’t a completely new situation—us getting heated during a disagreement—although this time, the stakes were a lot higher.
Our entire future was on the line. Which is why I never saw her next move coming in a million years.
She sniffled, keeping her red, puffy gaze trained on her hands while she gripped onto her rings and slowly slid them off. My heart stopped, eyes stinging with tears as she set them down on the mattress and stared like she wanted to burn everything about them into her memory.
“You’re right,” she whispered. “I am afraid—afraid of you looking at me one day and saying to yourself, I wonder what my life would’ve been like if I didn’t marry the first girl I ever dated.
This world goes far beyond Tinsville, Pennsylvania, and I don’t want to have my heart broken when you open your eyes and figure that out.
” She looked up at me, and I knew without her even saying the words out loud, that I was losing her.
“I love you so much, Em. But I can’t do this. ”
She reached her hand out to cup my jaw, but I turned away, tears falling down my face while I seethed on the inside.
I couldn’t believe that, after all we’d been through, she was really just going to walk away.
Sure, we’d had our fair share of ups and downs, and the road ahead was a scary one, but I was doing everything I could to show her how important our marriage was to me.
I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I wouldn’t cheat on my wife or leave her, and I’d never so much as looked at another girl.
She’d seen the effects of that shit with her own parents, and we always vowed not to be like them, so why wasn’t my word good enough?
“Don’t,” I spit. “Don’t fucking touch me.
You’re a coward…and you’re about to fuck up the best thing that’s ever happened to either of us.
If you want to trust a couple of girls you met outside a house party bathroom over the man who’s loved you since before he even knew what that meant, fine.
But don’t you dare come running back to me when you realize what a huge mistake you made. ”
Nodding, her face twisted in pain as she studied mine one last time.
My heart pounded in my chest, every part of me wanting to reach out and grab onto her so she wouldn’t go.
But I knew I couldn’t. I had to let her find out for herself that this was the wrong decision, even if it was excruciating for us both.
“I’m sorry, Emmett,” she whispered, pulling her trembling lip between her teeth and lifting her bag from the floor. Anxiety gripped at my throat as she slung it over her shoulder, panic flowing through my veins like poison because she was really about to leave.
“I’m not kidding, Stella,” I warned. “If you walk out that door, there are no second chances.” I was full of shit, but I did my best to remain stoic so she’d believe the lie as it fell from my lips.
She stared at the floor for several beats.
I hoped my words had hit their mark and that she was reconsidering.
But in the next excruciating breath, she was gone, the door closing behind her with a quiet snick as I stood there frozen.
My entire body screamed in agony, searing pain shooting through every inch of me as her footsteps faded into silence.
My wife was gone, and I had no idea if I’d ever get her back.
I know that day was hard on her, too. Fuck…
our whole relationship was. Her parents always saw me as unworthy of their daughter, and my parents saw her as a distraction—that us getting married would somehow screw up my plans of going pro—even though everything I did was for our future.
I was determined to provide the life Stella deserved, and knowing an NFL contract would make that possible was all the motivation I needed.
But they made their disapproval known, refusing to support us in any way.
I didn’t really give a fuck because my relationships with my mom and dad weren’t super solid to begin with, but I know Stella wished we had everyone’s blessing.
I can’t stop myself from hoping that they were a comfort to her after the divorce.
I used football as a way to channel my pain and sadness, exhausting myself every day so I didn’t have to think about how badly I was hurting.
The thought of her having to go it alone kills me, knowing damn well it shouldn’t.
She was the one who chose to leave, so why do I give a shit if she felt every consequence?
I’m sobered by how much I still care about her, even though I wish I didn’t.
It was a hell of a lot easier to stay angry when she was just a ghost of my past, doing God knows what, God knows where.
But now she’s right here, and I can’t deny the fact that I’m being pulled back into her orbit.
I hate myself for not being stronger, although I should’ve seen this coming.
I’ve always been weak when it comes to Stella.
Seeing her in discomfort earlier and wanting to take it all away was a feeling I had all but forgotten, yet it was like second nature as I pulled my car out of view of Austin’s front window and pounded on the guesthouse door, ready to break the motherfucker down if she didn’t answer.
And now, I’m struggling to leave her here, worried that she may need something else after I’m gone.
She’s been tossing and turning since she fell asleep, small whimpers pushing past her lips every time a particularly bad cramp racks her poor, tired body.
But I know I have to go. The last thing I need is for Austin to find me here and question why I spent the night in his nurse’s bedroom after I said I was going home.
Standing, I glance over to where she lies, completely detached from rational thought as my feet carry me toward her.
She’s so fucking beautiful that it causes a physical ache in my chest, and I slowly reach out, cradling her soft, warm cheek in my palm.
Emotion claws its way up my throat, thick and heavy as she nuzzles into my touch just like she used to.
“Em,” she whispers, making my heart crack behind my rib cage.
Does she see me in her dream? Is it a happy one?
Or is it like the nightmares I have every now and then, when her memory is haunting me the most?
But the question dies in the moonlight, breaking me even further with her next mumbled words. “I’m sorry.”
Me too, Wild Girl. Me too.