Chapter 26
Emersyn
11 months later…
“Isn’t this Christmas party amazing?” Catie’s heels click obnoxiously as she prances up to me, a glass of champagne in her hands. Her hair is tied up in a perfectly fashioned half updo, and her small frame shows no sign of how much wine she drinks on the usual. “It’s so much better to get drunk than it is to bake cookies and shit.”
I blink a couple of times, taking in my drunk best friend in her tight red dress, low cut to nearly her belly button. “I suppose so.” I turn my eyes back to the skyline of the city, and while it’s not impressive, it’s better than watching her.
“Can you believe they found all that data on Adam? I can’t believe he was hiring prostitutes. God knows what he got himself into. He probably gave you the wrong address on purpose.”
“Catie,” I say in a sharp tone, the truth still stinging a little. For a man who called me a whore, he had been doing way more than I ever did. “I really don’t want to talk about him tonight.” My fingers brush across the wooden heart pendent resting against the black, long sleeve dress I’m wearing to this catastrophe of an elegant Christmas party.
A year. It’s been a freaking year.
“Well, I’m still trying to cope with the fact that Aaron is in prison for doing the same fucking thing, Em. It’s not like life is just a ball of fucking fun right now.” Her voice drops, her shoulders dropping. “It’s amazing what someone going missing does to their secrets. They all come out—whether we want them to or not.”
I eye her, my faded paranoia tapping on my shoulder, but then nod. “I know. I’m sorry. You should get back to the party. Dustin, the guy you like from work, is here, you know. I saw him looking for you.”
“Oh?” Her brows shoot skyward. “I didn’t think he’d have the balls to come.”
I shoot her a smile. “Well, I guess you were wrong.”
“As per usual,” she giggles. She then spins on her heels and clicks out of the sitting area, heading back where the bulk of the people are at around the bar. I continue to stand there, staring out into the night.
Fucking Christmas Eve.
My mind flashes back to that cabin in the woods, the one where I found myself, and then subsequently lost it. For a while, my mind told me debated on the truth with Adam and his hobbies, but as it turns out, it was legitimate—and Aaron was involved in the string as well.
I guess you never really know someone.
Tapping my nails on the side of my glass, I ignore the buzzing of my phone. It’s more than likely my mom. Everyone is worried about me, but it’s for all the wrong reasons. They see the way things played out with Adam, and they think I left my heart in Colorado. The truth is, I did. But it’s at that stupid fucking cabin in the woods.
Fuck you, Turner.
I blink away the moisture that still somehow finds its way to my eyes, even after all this time has passed. I guess I don’t move on as easy as I thought I did. I’ve considered going there so many times. I’ve thought about writing another letter, but I extended my offer when I stuck that Christmas card in his mailbox.
He has a phone, and he chose to never call. I take a deep breath and take a sip of my champagne. I don’t know if I’m angry or bitter. I don’t know if the infatuation with him morphed to hatred, or if I still love him. I don’t know .
And that’s the part I hate the most.
Catie says someday the heartbreak will fade, since she knows I fell for Turner. She doesn’t know the rest. That’s something I’ll take to my grave without regret. My phone buzzes again, and I fish it out of my purse, flipping it open. I see the notification on social media, Catie tagging me in some godforsaken selfie with the bar we’re at. We took a trip this year just for her.
“You really shouldn’t let your friend tag you in posts that give away your location,” a voice says from behind me with a deep chuckle. “It’s dangerous, though helpful if someone wants to find you.”
“Thanks for the advice,” I mutter, still staring out the window. “Why don’t you go talk to her about it?”
“I’d rather talk to you.”
I feel the presence of the desperate guy, probably out to get laid, draw closer. “I’m not much for conversation. You’re better off finding someone else.” I wave him off, making it a point not to look. There’s something familiar in the deep voice, and I know it’s my mind playing tricks on me. It’s happened before.
“That’s funny, you never shut up when you were with me.”
My pulse jumps in my throat, and I squeeze my eyes shut. It can’t be. It really can’t be. It’s impossible.
“Em…”
My heart explodes in my chest as my eyes flutter open, and I finally peer up at the man standing a couple of feet from me. Turner stands there, holding a glass of champagne, and sporting a fucking suit. His hair is longer on the top and slicked back, ink scrawls up his neck and down his hands. His dark eyes are as intense as always, but…
They’re filled fully with warmth.
“What are you doing here?” I manage to choke out, half tempted to pinch myself to make sure I didn’t just drink a few too many. I’ve only had one.
“Well,” he chuckles. “It took me a little longer than I thought it would, but this seemed as good of a time as any to catch up.”
I shake my head at him, my knees feeling weak with emotion. “You never called.”
“No, I didn’t.” He admits in a flat tone, downing the rest of his champagne and setting it on one of the small tables. “If I would’ve called, you wouldn’t have stayed away—I wouldn’t have stayed away. I had to have time to fix myself, Em. I followed through, but I had to do it on my time.”
“Still, you broke my heart,” I reason as he takes a step closer.
“Yeah, and I’m sorry, but it was better than accidentally killing you.” He says the words with a confidence that’s new and unnerving. “As it turns out, I was able to get everything I needed. Well, almost. ” He brushes his fingers down my arm.
But I don’t budge, even as the familiar arousal pours through my body. “You can’t just come back.”
“I can.” He gently grips my chin. “I know you still love me, Em. I’ve kept eyes on you the last few months, and you haven’t moved on.”
“You’re making assumptions.”
He chuckles. “Am I?”
I suck in a sharp breath at the woodsy scent filling my lungs. “So, you’re just all better now? All ready to make it work now that I’ve gone through everything alone?”
A flash of remorse fills his expression. “You and I both know, it would’ve never worked out like that. I was in love with you, but I couldn’t be what you needed. Sometimes,” he brushes his nose against mine. “Sometimes, love isn’t enough.”
“You used the term was ,” I say, breathing out as I close my eyes, battling all the emotions and all the questions I want answers to.
He chuckles. “Yeah, was. Because I was in love with you, and I couldn’t be what you need. Now, I’m in love with you, and I can be the guy you need. I can be here for you, Em.” My eyes flutter open to meet his soft, dark irises. “I can go to your parties, meet your family, buy you the house with the picket fence, have the kids—you name it, angel, and I can give it to you. I just needed to take the first step myself.”
I want to scream at him for all the heartbreak he caused me, but the sincerity in his voice nearly brings me to my knees. “What did you have to do?”
He threads his arm around my waist holding my body against his. “I had to reach out and get help from the person who had been offering it all along. It wasn’t easy, Em, and the process of healing was dangerous. I was unstable, and I had to learn how to manage myself, and get the right treatment for my blackouts.”
“And are they gone?” I whisper as he presses his lips to my jaw.
His hot breath against my ear sends a familiar shiver of arousal down my spine. “Yes, Em. But I’d be lying if I said they may never come back, but I can tell you that I’ll never hurt you or myself ever again. I’m good.”
I lean away from his intoxicating kiss. “Just like that, you’re good? ”
Turner chuckles. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m fucking great now that I’ve got my hands on you, and you know what, if you tell me I have to earn my keep for you, I’ll do it. I’ll fucking chase you for the rest of my life.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “I’m not just letting you off the hook, but…” My voice trails off as I take in this version of Turner. “I do understand that you needed time—and maybe help that I couldn’t give you.”
“I needed a solid risk assessment and space to become safe for you, Em,” he replies, his voice dropping in volume. “I had to leave the cabin for a long time and work my way back. That’s what I needed, and I never pursued it before because I didn’t have a reason to. You were the reason I was waiting for.”
“You became charming, I see,” I swat a tear from under my eye. “You must have been practicing.”
“I may have rehearsed a few lines,” Turner murmurs, and then presses his lips to mine. I instantly melt into him, getting a new and old taste of him once more. His tongue slips between my lips, intertwining with my tongue. The same hunger is there, but there’s a renewed sense of confidence that he didn’t have before.
My champagne glass slips from my hand, spilling on the rug as we stumble back. “Turner,” I break the kiss, giggling. “We’re lucky that didn’t break.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles, landing his lips on mine again for a light kiss before leaning away. “Does your friend have a ride home?”
“Yeah, her new guy,” I answer him. “Why?”
“Because I’m fucking dying to get you home and out of this dress,” he growls, dipping his hands lower, landing on my ass.
I peer up at him. “So, where is home now?”
He presses his forehead to mine. “Wherever you are.”