Chapter Eighteen
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Zane
A fter many tears and several kisses among the ladies, Stella and I ride to the airport.
Douglas insisted he drive us, and we sit in the back of the town car, the city zipping by through tinted windows.
Though she and Max flew without any problems, I still feel like there are worms crawling around inside my stomach, and gripping her hand, I swallow back the bitter taste of bile.
They don’t have to fly commercial. The jet that crashed wasn’t the only private plane we had in the Maddox fleet—collecting planes was my father’s only indulgence—but it eases my mind knowing they’re flying on a larger airplane that will have other passengers on it. Banks didn’t question it. He purchased first class seats, and I’m glad I don’t have to explain my neurosis.
I didn’t sleep all night, kneeling in the bathroom next to Stella while she suffered her own terrors and cried into the toilet bowl. There was nothing I could say that would console her, and I finally forced her to bed around four in the morning where she cried herself to sleep in my arms.
She’s taken this so hard, I almost wish we hadn’t found her parents at all. That we were at the penthouse, planning our wedding. I link our fingers, trying to reassure her. Her skin’s pale, and her lips have lost their rosy, pink hue.
I scramble to find something to say, but there’s nothing. Her parents will love her—she has that effect on everyone she meets. They aren’t going to send her away or tell her they don’t want her like she fears. They’re going to ask her to stay...and that’s mine.
Zarah had difficulty saying goodbye. She’s endured so much change since leaving Quiet Meadows, and I worry that too much more will break her. Stella will be tucked away in St. Petersburg, and now that things have calmed down, Zarah and I can use the time to reconnect. Dr. Reagan insists she needs therapy, and eventually I’ll find someone, but in the meantime, Ingrid and I will think of educational activities that will keep Zarah’s mind engaged and her recovery progressing. She needs to find direction and purpose. Maybe that’s at the company, maybe it’s not, but until her mind clears, she won’t know. We can find our paths together, because God knows, I’ll be at loose ends until Stella comes back.
If she does.
I shift in my seat as Douglas waits for a traffic light to turn green. I have to stop thinking like that. She loves me, and she’s wearing my ring. We’ve been making love without protection. I wanted to tie her to me somehow. Stupid, I know, you don’t have to tell me how selfish that is, but I’ve already lost her once and I don’t think I can do it again and survive it.
Douglas parks in front of the airline’s Departures entrance, and he opens her door and helps her out of the car. He gives her a hug more befitting of a father or grandfather than that of a chauffeur, and she returns it just as enthusiastically. I swear he wipes his eyes before pulling her suitcase out of the trunk.
She kisses his cheek. “Thanks, Douglas. You keep an eye on Zane and Zarah, okay? Don’t let them get into trouble.”
“You have my word, Miss Mayfair.”
She stiffens. That’s another thing she’s struggling with. Will her parents call her Jenna? When she comes back to King’s Crossing, will she want everyone else to call her Jenna too? She’s not a Jenna to me. She’ll always be my Stella.
If she turns into Jenna in Florida, she won’t be mine anymore.
She smiles, and he nods one last time. He climbs behind the wheel and glides away. We decided he’d park to give me more time to say goodbye.
Banks is already inside. After his flight from DC, he exited the airport and reentered to walk Stella through security. He looks tired and his suit’s rumpled, but the second he sees Stella, his eyes light up.
Stella’s still wearing her cast, but she looks lovely wearing a black jersey dress that clings in all the right places. After everything settled, she gained a little weight and her skin glows. She pinned the front of her hair away from her face and it hangs down her back, the bob Mel cut it into slowly growing out.
She spent a lot of time in the bedroom agonizing over what to wear, what wouldn’t clash with her cast, what color lip gloss to put on, how to fix her hair. Earlier in the week, she made an appointment at a salon and colored her hair back to the natural blonde I love. Several people stop to stare, but she doesn’t notice. She never has.
While Banks checks her suitcase, I pull her aside. “Listen, Stella.”
She steps into my arms and starts to cry.
I hold her, full of regret. This would have been so much easier on both of us if I’d broken up with her. Then she would have had no choice but to meet her family. But I couldn’t. I can’t live without her. I’m the one who keeps telling her she can have me, and her mom, dad, and sister. She can, can’t she? I don’t know.
“I’ll wait for you forever. You have my promise. I’ll always be here, and I’ll always want you. When you’re ready, come home. Simple as that.”
But the penthouse isn’t her home.
She leans away and wipes her cheeks. “I’m sorry. Every time I find you, I feel like I lose you all over again.”
For her benefit, I force myself to smile. I can’t let her see how much this is shredding me. “I was thinking that too, but it only means we keep finding each other, right?”
I could go on and say endings are new beginnings or some other crap you’d find on a social media meme, but that would sound like bullshit, and she would know it too.
“Ready?” Banks asks, holding their boarding passes. “We should go. The line’s getting longer, and we don’t want to press our luck.” As an FBI agent, Banks doesn’t need to go through security at all, but he’s doing it to help Stella. When he called to arrange the flight, I told him this was only her second time flying and that she might need some extra guidance. I didn’t tell her, though. I don’t want her to feel like a burden. Besides, Banks is happy to do it.
He turns his back to give us privacy, and I kiss her goodbye, nudging her lips with my tongue, asking her to let me in. I lick at her like I’m a starving man and she’s my last meal, my hands tangled in her hair. She whimpers, and her fists crumple my shirt. I don’t care what we look like to other passengers, I only want Stella to know how much I’m going to miss her.
Reluctantly, I pull away. I tug on her ring and say, “Till death do us part, right?” Tears and already missing her scratch my voice.
She smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah.”
“I love you, Stella.” The words are so inadequate.
“I love you, too.”
“Good. Better go.” I clear my throat.
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.” She walks backward until she and Banks are swallowed up by a large group of people, and I watch them wait in line. He helps her through every step of the process, and after they’ve collected their things, I lose sight of them completely.
I wait until the departure board indicates their flight has taken off, and only then do I trudge to the lot where Douglas parked the car.
He’s subdued on the drive back to the penthouse.
Lucille’s quiet, and Zarah won’t leave me alone, my lonely little shadow everywhere I go.
Everyone hates Stella’s gone.
The penthouse is empty without her.
We don’t hear any news until Banks calls later that evening. He tells me he and Stella landed in Orlando without incident and that her reunion with her mother and father was everything I imagined it would be.