Chapter 22
Chapter twenty-two
Emma
When It Started To Hurt
“How could he do this to me?” Ellie cries out, snatching the decorative towel elephant and hurling it at the wall.
After Liam announced in front of everyone—on their wedding day—that he couldn’t marry my sister, I got her out of there as fast as I could. Unfortunately, the only place to hide was their suite.
Now we’re trapped in a room staged for a honeymoon that will never happen. Red rose petals, a chilled bottle of champagne, matching His and Hers robes, and a “night together” basket sit around the room. Taunting us. I kick the basket into the bathroom, not wanting her to see it.
Ellie rips the pillows from the bed and launches them at the balcony doors, the hem of her wedding gown tangling under her feet.
“El,” I whisper as she throws the his robe on the ground and stomps on it. “Eleanor.”
“What?” she chokes out. Her eyes brim with tears as another groan breaks loose, but she keeps stomping. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing forms. Nothing I could say right now will change what happened. Maybe letting her get it out of her system is best.
A knock at the door saves me from the flying box of tissue.
Steven stands in the hallway, holding Eleanor’s bouquet and two plates of food.
“You’re amazing,” I breathe, guilt and gratitude tangling in my chest at my husband standing in front me. He would never do something like this to me.
“How’s she doing?” he asks right as a crash echoes from inside the room. We both wince.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, looking every bit of the word.
I set the flowers on the small table sitting next to the door and take the plates. Steven steps in beside me but stays out of Ellie’s line of sight. Anything connected to Liam, including Liam’s best friend, is gasoline on the fire right now. So seeing her brother-in-law is the last thing she needs.
“Should we give her our room?” he asks, glancing at the mess she’s created. The bathroom door slams, followed by running water and the sound of fabric tearing.
“And sleep in this?” I grimace, following his gaze as it skitters over the destruction. Rose petals clump with melted ice cubes. Throw pillows are mangled beyond saving. The duvet is a heap on the floor.
“We’re going to have to clean this up.”
“I know,” I mutter, remembering we booked this suite on our credit card as a gift. I mentally slap myself. I’m an idiot.
“Em!” Ellie calls to me from the bathroom. “Rent The Mummy and order me a tub of ice cream!”
“On it!” I yell back, pulling out my phone.
“I’ll go get it,” Steven offers, brushing his fingers down my forearm. “Your dad already took the boys. I can be right back.”
“Again,” I say, “you’re amazing.”
“Anything for you, baby,” he whispers, lifting my wrist to his lips.
He presses a soft kiss there and it sends a shiver up my arm.
The last time we were in a hotel room, we were up all night together.
That was a full year ago. This time, we planned ahead, hoping we could do that again, ensuring we had a sitter for at least one night.
His lips linger on my skin. “Are we still on for later?” Kiss. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week.” Another kiss, now traveling, the soft warmth of his lips meeting each sensitive spot on my arm. It’s slow, intentional.
And intoxicating.
A shuddery breath leaves me.
“I think…” my voice cracks as his mouth reaches my collarbone then my neck. “I need to make sure she’s okay.” My breath hitches as his lips find the edge of my jaw, and his hands slide to my hips.
“Of course,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of my mouth. “What if you sneak out when she’s asleep?”
“Like high school?” I joke, turning my face toward his.
“She won’t even know you're gone.” He kisses me again. “I don’t need long.”
I bark out a laugh, but he hushes me with a finger to my lips, drawing me closer. One hand traces down my back, flirting with the zipper of my dress. The other lifts my chin so he can kiss me deeper. The taste is so familiar, so comfortable, I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.
“Fine,” I breathe between kisses. “I’ll sneak out as soon as she’s asleep.”
“Good girl.”
He steals one more kiss just as the bathroom water shuts off. His eyes are hungry and reverent as they travel up and down my frame. I can’t help the tiny spark of confidence it lights—and my motivation to definitely sneak out later.
“You need to get out of here,” I laugh, nudging him toward the door.
“I know, I know.” He chuckles.
I’m about to close the door when he casually says, “I told Liam I’d take him back to his apartment.”
I freeze, door ajar. “What?”
“His family left. I told him I’d drive him back super fast. Then I’ll grab the ice cream.”
As if ice cream is the problem here. Not the fact that he’s still doing that scumbag favors.
His title of brother-in-law should trump best friend right now, and I can’t fight the nausea twisting in my stomach at the probability of him not being aware of this.
That my doctor of a husband would not realize this.
“I don’t care about ice cream, Steven,” I whisper, glancing back to the closed bathroom door. “Are you really helping him out right now?”
“Em, he’s my best friend. This day is hard on him too.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” Anger simmers hot in my chest. “He doesn’t deserve your help, Steven. He doesn’t deserve anything but a kick to the nuts.”
“Ouch.”
“I’m serious.” I’m practically hissing, irritated this is happening. “What he did was horrible, Steven. He doesn’t deserve our kindness, and he definitely doesn’t have the right to ask you for any favors. Not when the champagne is still cold, at least.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales, like I’m the unreasonable one right now.
I bite my tongue, holding back a slew of words, so I don’t explode in the middle of this hallway.
I don’t know if my anger is toward Liam only or if Steven’s behavior is aggravating it more.
But either way, anger is justifiable in this situation, and I hate that my instinct is to hold it together and not let anyone see how I really feel.
I can’t let my emotions be a disruption.
I can’t be a disruption.
“Listen,” he sighs, rubbing his brow. “I know this is terrible. He’s a prick.”
I shrug in agreement.
“And he doesn’t deserve our help. You’re absolutely right. But if he doesn’t leave tonight, Ellie will wake up tomorrow and find him downstairs in the lobby. I’m not sure we want that either.”
My head falls back as the desolation of the suite taunts me from the corner of my eye. He’s right.
“You have a point.”
Steven steps closer again, sliding his big hands around my waist and resting them at the curve of my back. He brushes his thumbs across the line of my underwear, testing his boundaries, even now.
“Let me get him out of here, and I’ll be right back.”
“Fine,” I sigh, tilting my head to the side to give him a clear window of opportunity. He takes it, kissing my neck, tenderly but possessively all at the same time. “Just hurry up.”
“Oh, I will.” He squeezes me before finally tearing himself away, backing toward the elevator, his gaze devouring me like he’s lost in a private fantasy. I bite my lip, and he lets out a small growl as he steps into the elevator.
“I hate Liam right now,” he says as the door starts to shut, “but I’m glad he stopped stringing Ellie along.”
What?
“Stringing along?” I shout, sprinting for the elevator. My silver heel stops the door before it shuts, and Steven’s eyes widen as I step inside. “What do you mean string along?”
His face twists, all sense of desire replaced with confusion as he assesses me. I know how I must look. Nostrils flaring, wild green eyes, clenched fists.
The elevator dings as we descend toward the lobby.
“I just mean it’s better he did it before they actually got married, right? Like, imagine if he ended things after the fact.”
“Yes, but you said stringing along. Like you know more than the rest of us.”
Ding.
He opens his mouth to speak then shuts it, lighting a small fire of irritation in my belly.
“What aren’t you telling me, Steven?”
His jaw twitches, and his eyes shift, visibly nervous.
“Talk,” I growl.
But the elevator doors open to the lobby, and Liam is there waiting. The fire snaps into a blazing rage at the sight of him. I lunge, my fists clenching of their own accord. As if Liam can sense what’s coming his way, he cowers, covering his face with his arms.
“Em, Em!” Steven grabs my elbow.
I whirl on him. “What aren’t you telling me, Steven?”
“What’s going—”
“Another word and I will cut it off.” I jab a finger in Liam’s direction.
“Cut what off?” He has the audacity to speak again.
Fury erupts, coursing through my veins like acid, all the way to my fingertips. I clench my fists harder and rear back, but Steven grips my arm, gently tugging me back to reality—the reality that I’m a mother, and assaulting Liam could cause more damage to me than him.
“Steven,” I plead.
He deflates as he releases my elbow. His eyes dart from me to Liam before settling on the ground at my feet.
“Liam told me he wasn’t sure.”
“Dude, what are—” Liam starts.
“Wasn’t sure about what?” I cut him off.
“Marrying Ellie.”
The words hit me like ice water, shocking me speechless. He knew? Liam thought about calling this off before today, and Steven knew.
“I told him he needed to figure it out before they got married. I didn’t want Ellie to get hurt.”
“So you thought keeping that information to yourself and letting him leave her at the altar was okay?” My voice is loud now, disbelieving.
“No,” he refutes.
“So what, then? You were just hoping he’d still go through with it?”
“I thought maybe he had come to his senses. And I didn’t know if telling you would help if he ended up—”
“Stop.” I step back, disgust twisting my insides.
“Em, I’m sorry.” His voice is a pathetic whisper, a sound of a man I don’t even recognize.
“I can’t believe you kept something like this from me.” Tears sting my eyes at the betrayal. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t—”
“You lied by omission. To me,” I choke out. “To protect him?”
“Baby, please.” He reaches for me, but for the first time in our marriage, I yank away.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Emma…”
“Stay. Away.”
“Baby, come on. I’m not the one you should be mad at.”
He waves in Liam’s general direction, and Liam scoffs as he grabs his duffel bag and heads toward the valet counter.
“I am mad at you,” I tell him. “The fact that you kept something like this from me, knowing my sister was going to get hurt? Are you kidding me?”
A shiver of revulsion runs over my skin at the memory of everywhere he touched me earlier, of the lingering desire clinging to the most sensitive parts of me. I shudder, furious that even betrayal can’t erase those feelings.
“Emma, please. I was trying to do the right thing, but I didn’t want to overstep.”
“Don’t. Don’t try to justify your lies with kindness. You lied to me, simple as that.” I turn back to the elevator. “And if you’ll lie about this, what else will you lie about? What else will you hide from me?”
“I wouldn’t. I haven’t,” I hear him say, but I don’t turn back.
I step into the open elevator, leaving him standing in the middle of the hotel lobby.
Alone. His black suit jacket is rumpled, his red satin tie loose and crooked.
The day’s mental load is etched into his face, deepening the lines around his eyes and accentuating the puffiness beneath them.
It’s a sight that would usually make me feel for him, drop everything to get to him.
But not now.
His brown eyes hold mine, pleading for me not to leave. But I can’t stay.
This is how it begins. Sure, we might get over this by next month, but it’ll always be there.
It will linger, causing damage. It’s a domino effect you see time and time again.
The foundation you build your life on, your marriage, starts to weaken.
Hairline fractures form, spreading under the weight of life, until it all starts to crumble.
I just never believed it could happen to us.
But a crack has formed, and I have no idea where it will lead.