Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
EMMA
Four days later
“Bills, Bills, Bills” by Destiny’s Child comes up on my playlist as I click my heels on the streets of the Upper East Side.
I’m heading home from my favorite bookstore and café in the city, the emptiest one I’ve found that stays open until nine p.m., where I’ve spent the last few days outlining a story I plan to write very soon.
But this one isn’t for the paper, it’s for me.
My head bounces to the rhythm as I turn a deserted corner just a few blocks from my parents’ townhouse.
On the Upper East Side, tourists wander around searching for famous TV and movie spots, but it’s the middle of the week after the holiday rush, and the streets are almost empty.
I take the chance to sing softly and dance a little to a song I haven’t heard in years.
My hair bounces around my face, and my new long white coat sways with my movements. Writing and doing solo activities have helped distract me from…him these past few days. Who I have yet to hear from.
“The One That Got Away” by Katy Perry plays after “Bills, Bills, Bills” as my footsteps slow down at yet another song that I haven’t heard in years.
Reaching my parents’ block, I grab my phone to change the current tune, and whisper to myself, “Is this some kind of sign, Charlotte? If it is, it’s really quite depressing.
” Hitting skip, “When We Were Young” by Adele is next.
Rolling my eyes, I press skip again, and “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift plays.
I huff out a frustrated breath. “Seriously?” I stomp a foot and take my headphones off, too lazy and cold to pick another song when I’m only half a block away from home.
As I approach the townhouse, I look up and see a shadowy figure sitting on our steps.
I narrow my gaze, trying to figure out if it’s a homeless person or a crazy dude, but I’m too far away to see the person’s face clearly—just a silhouette of a man.
Wrapping my hand around the pepper spray I recently bought, I walk tall with my shoulders back, making sure my heels clack loudly, knowing that predators are less susceptible to attack confident-looking women.
My eyes lock on to the figure, and as I stand a few steps away, the man’s head turns toward me and he stands up. The streetlight now illuminates his body, and my eyes widen.
Brown wavy hair, a chiseled jaw, black-framed glasses, a black jacket, jeans, and those all-too-familiar lips shine brightly under the New York City streetlights.
“Emma?”
At his voice, I nearly trip. My body floods with warmth, then a wave of longing and happiness, settling on an underlying fury I didn’t realize was there.
My face tightens as I walk over to a smiling Grayson.
He stands with his hands in his jacket pockets, staring at me from head to toe.
“You changed your hair—”
Without hesitation, my right hand swings out and smacks the side of his face with a harsh slap that echoes through the empty street.
I regret it immediately, but don’t say a word.
Grayson rubs his cheek and nods, keeping his eyes down. “I deserved that.”
My eyes water, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. I want to jump into his arms, kiss his full lips, and thank him for the gifts, yet I don’t want to give in so easily after two weeks of no contact and almost a month of not seeing each other.
“Say something, Princess.” He tilts my chin up so our eyes meet. The nickname gives me goose bumps, and I hate how my body reacts to him.
My teeth grind together. “Two. Weeks,” I grit out, and step back before I do something else I’ll regret. “I haven’t heard from you in two. Weeks.”
“Did you get my gifts?” he asks in such a quiet tone I almost don’t catch it.
“Yes, and they were amazing.” I throw my arms in the air.
“But you don’t send anything, text me, or call me for two weeks, skipping over New Year’s entirely, and now what?
You expect me to jump into your arms when I have no idea what the hell you were up to?
” He opens his mouth to speak, and I hold up a hand to stop him.
“Those presents meant a lot to me, Grayson, but you had the upper hand the entire time. You had my number and address, while I had absolutely nothing for almost a month. Where were you?” I swallow past the lump in my throat.
His sad eyes look between mine. “I’m sorry, Emma, but there’s a reason for all of this.
I had to do a few things before coming back to you.
” Grayson takes a cautious step toward me, as if I might run away, but I stay put, needing to hear his explanation.
“I never stopped wanting to be with you. I wouldn’t have asked you to wait if I wasn’t one thousand percent sure I was coming back. ”
“I still don’t understand.” He’s talking but isn’t really saying anything.
“Let me show you,” he responds, and I shake my head in confusion. Grayson smiles sadly. “Please, just come with me, and I’ll explain everything there.”
Scoffing, I adjust my bag. “Give me one reason why I should.”
“Because I love you,” he breathes out, and his body sags as if he’s been holding on to a massive secret.
My mind goes blank, and my heart stops at the three words I’ve been waiting to hear longer than I realized I had.
“I’ve also been waiting on those steps for four hours, and my toes feel like they’re about to fall off. I need to get somewhere warm.”
I nod absentmindedly, still in shock and unsure of what to say. Words are just words until they’re not, and for now, they’re only words.
Wait—he waited outside my house for four hours when he could have just knocked on the door?
“How did you know I wasn’t home?”
Grayson rubs the back of his neck. “Your dad told me.” Oh jeez.
“Then he said that if I really cared about you, I’d wait until you got back from wherever you were.
” I stifle a laugh. My dad is really putting him through the wringer.
He knew where I was and what time I usually get back.
“But your mom was very kind and came outside to give me a thermos with hot chocolate in it.” He smiles and lifts the cream-colored thermos, decorated with blue bows, that I used to use in high school.
Of course, she gave him that one.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
He smiles. “I wanted to prove to your parents that I love you.” A hummingbird makes it into my stomach. “I would’ve waited all night for you, Emma. It’s the least you deserve.”
Pursing my lips, I give him a once-over, acting as if his words haven’t affected me at all; meanwhile, it’s something I’ve been waiting for a man to say my entire life. Still, waiting four hours when I had to wait almost a month to see him and two weeks of no contact doesn’t seem like quite enough…
“There’s a ball tomorrow,” I announce.
He frowns. “Okay? Are you going to this ball?”
Keeping my lips straight, I nod. “It’s the one event my parents want me to go to because it has a theme to it.”
Grayson quickly guesses the theme they picked this year. “Another masquerade ball?”
“Yes, and I know you despise these snooty rich people’s events.” He shrugs, not disagreeing. “Which is why I’ll see you there.”
I turn toward the staircase and take my first step when I feel a hand wrap around my wrist. The touch itself is electrifying.
Desperate blue-green eyes meet mine, and I know he wants me to leave with him tonight, but it’s my turn to have some control over this relationship after weeks of feeling powerless.
“Grayson,” I try to warn, but my voice fails me, and it slips out as a whisper.
His body is now closer to mine, the step bringing his face just inches from me.
“Emma—”
“Your name will be on the list. It starts at eight p.m. at the Plaza.” I quickly pull the thermos out of his hand and step back from his touch, already feeling the cold sting there, but I need to get away from him before I give in.
“I’ll see you then,” he says from down below. After three minutes of shutting the front door, I walk to the corner of the window facing the front of our house and see Grayson with his head down. He then seems to take a deep breath, stand straight, and hail a cab.
I made the right decision, I can feel it.
Let’s see if he does.