Chapter 18 Elizabeth
ELIZABETH
What is wrong with me? The words pound through my skull as I smooth my skirt back over my thighs, fingers trembling at the hem.
He’s right here—Jon, the one man I can say anything to—and still, when it matters, my throat locks shut.
Maybe it’s habit. A lifetime of swallowing words because Karl always took up the air in the room. Because my father only ever leaned in when it was my brother talking.
I hate how that still lingers in me, turning my spine soft when I need it sharp.
Across from me, Jon buckles his belt with deliberate movements, head bent, jaw tight. Even in something as ordinary as pulling his pants back on, he looks controlled, dangerous. Like nothing rattles him. And here I am, shrinking under the weight of secrets.
The couch still smells of him—his cologne mingling with the faint smoke of the candle Dani left burning. If she walked in right now, she’d see the imprint of his hand on my thigh, the flushed heat in my cheeks. She’d know exactly what we’d been doing. That thought alone knots my stomach tighter.
But when Jon glances over, one brow lifted, the corners of his mouth softening just for me, the panic eases. He doesn’t even have to touch me; his presence alone drowns out Sherry’s threats, my family’s chaos, all of it.
And maybe that’s the problem. Because telling him about the construction company could shatter this quiet. Could shatter him.
I press my lips together, forcing a smile I don’t quite feel. If I keep this close a little longer, maybe the world won’t come crashing down. Not while I’m finally starting to feel what it’s like to be wanted.
“Listen,” Jon says as he slips into his shoes. “I know you aren’t being completely truthful with me. It’s visible that you aren’t okay, but I won’t pry anymore. I just want to be here for you, and I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.”
I want to be open with him, but the fear of the unknown is keeping me from telling him. “Thank you,” I whisper as I start walking toward the kitchen. “That means a lot to me.” Opening the fridge, I grab two bottles of water and bring them to the living room, where Jon remains on the couch.
“So, this is where Elizabeth Morgan lives. It represents you,” he says, trying to lighten the mood as he takes a drink of the cold water.
“I hope that’s a good thing.” I lay my head on his shoulder and sigh, wanting to soak up all the alone time I can before he has to leave. The man that he is outside of work versus in the office is very different.
Outside of work, he is funny and playful. The real Jon Clark shines through, and I feel like the luckiest woman in the world that only a few select people get to see, including me.
Jon laughs. “Of course. It’s cozy and bright. It’s put together, yet fun. And smells like strawberries.” Laughing, I pat his leg with my hand.
“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. Your place is very nice, but it doesn’t scream Jonathan Clark. The real Jon that I see.”
“Hmm,” he replies. “And what would my place look like to you?”
Smiling, I shrug. “I’m not sure. Maybe warmer.
I love the decorations and the black and gray scheme you have going, but it screams bachelor pad.
I think that your place would have softer colors, a big, cozy couch, and a fireplace that has a real fire instead of the fake one you have.
Kind of like the cabin we stayed in. That screams Jon to me. ”
“True,” he remarks. “But to be fair, I’ve been a bachelor all my life.”
Giggling, I tuck my arm into his. He has this way about him that can bring light to any situation. He can always make me feel better by cracking a joke.
Maybe telling him won’t be as bad as I’m imagining it in my head. I tend to let my anxiety run wild, making up fake scenarios in my mind and causing me to shy away from doing what I should.
“Hey,” I begin with a weary voice. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
My heart pounds as he looks down at me. Can I do this? “The reason I’m acting so strange is—”
Just before I’m able to finish telling him about Jones Construction, I hear the lock on the front door click, and Dani walks in, but stops as we both stare at her.
“Oh, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” she mumbles.
“No, not at all.” I sit up again and grab my water bottle off the coffee table.
Jon smirks and looks down at his watch. “Actually, great timing. I should probably go. It’s late and we have work in the morning.” He stands, and while I hate to see him leave, I’m relieved that Dani’s coming home has bought me at least another day to rethink some things.
He leans down and kisses my forehead before saying his goodbyes and exiting the apartment. Dani locks the door behind him and joins me on the couch. “So, how’d it go? Did you tell him?”
Sighing, I throw my head back against the couch. “No. Of course, I didn’t. I chickened out like usual. We did make good use of the alone time, though.” I look at Dani and smirk.
“Oh my God,” she exclaims. “You know it’ll be better if you talk to him before things explode in your face. It’s never worked out well for you in the past.”
I agree with her, but it’s a lot harder than she thinks. Dani has always been able to voice her worries and opinions easily. I’m the exact opposite.
“Well,” she continues. “I’m glad I was able to provide you two with some alone time.” She winks and we both laugh, but then Dani’s face twists into one of worry.
“Whoa, what’s wrong?” I ask, sitting up straight once more.
Dani shifts uncomfortably and faces me. “I went to the corner bar to grab a drink with colleagues, but they never showed. But someone else was there and it was … weird.”
“Weird? Weird how?”
“Well, she started asking oddly personal questions about you, actually.”
Me? Other than Dani, people at work, and the woman who works at the coffee shop across the street, no one in the city knows anything about me. Who would be interested in knowing anything about me?
My brows droop with confusion as she continues. “She wanted to know how long we’ve been friends and what we do in our downtime. Just generic things like that, but I’ve never seen this woman before.”
“What did she look like?”
“Shoulder-length reddish hair, freckles galore, and green eyes. She seemed friendly enough, but then the questions started, and I got a weird feeling. I didn’t answer her questions, but I had a few of my own that she wouldn’t answer. I don’t know.”
Sherry fucking Wilson … My jaw clenches, and I can feel my skin heating up. When is enough, enough? Why can’t she just leave me alone and worry about her own pathetic life?
“What? Do you know who it is?” Dani asks excitedly. She has always been about drama, so this is going to be a very good night for her. I want to scream … I want to find Sherry.
“Yes. I work with her. She’s been giving me dirty looks since I got my promotion and then confronted me in front of Jon’s building.
She wants to blackmail me because she’s jealous I got the job and she didn’t.
She even called me a fucking office tart.
” I let out a little laugh, but only because I finally realize how ridiculous all of this sounds.
Dani’s eyes widen, and her mouth slightly gapes as I continue. “I guess she’s going to every length to try and blackmail me.”
“Oh, hell no. I’m taking over this one.” She stands and grabs her computer before returning to her seat beside me on the couch. “Okay, ready to do this? I can beat her at her own game.”
“Let’s do it.”
Her fingers work vigorously as she types and scrolls through search engines and social media platforms. Anything to find her and something I can use against her.
At first, we find nothing except dead ends. Maybe this is just a lost cause. It’s hard for me to admit defeat, especially against someone who doesn’t deserve to win. I slump down into the couch and sigh, ready to give up and call it a night.
“Hold on!” Dani practically yells, and I shoot back up and look at the screen. “It’s an article from a few years ago.”
I scan the article and begin to read aloud. “Sherry Wilson, thirty, was arrested on March 20th. The victim, Charlie Smith, has pressed charges of harassment and damaged property. He’s requested a restraining order against Miss Wilson as charges are pending.”
I’m in shock the further I read. She broke into this man’s house and even spray-painted his car. It reads that she didn’t do any jail time, but she has a restraining order against her and a record. I’m ecstatic that we were able to find something on her.
While it makes sense, due to how insane she’s acting now toward Jon and me, I don’t understand how she was able to get a job at Clark’s with a record.
I pray that she isn’t a repeat offender. Maybe I should fear for my safety. If she’s willing to do all that, who knows what she’ll do to me?