“You’re in or you’re out, Emma. Why won’t you fight for me?”
I sit up on the couch. “You are asking me to choose between you and my family. I can’t do that. Not after all that’s happened. I want you with me. I want you on my arm but not at the expense of hurting my sister. She knows how I feel about you but she has no idea what your intentions are. All she knows is what she’s seen so far and she doesn’t exactly trust my judgment these days.”
Alexander walks back to the bedroom and starts pulling pants up his legs. I grab the blanket and wrap it around my naked body, following him toward the room.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to think,” he says, his arms sliding into a long-sleeved crew-neck shirt.
He needs to think?
Thinking is bad. Thinking means doubts and thinking leads to questioning your judgment.
“Can’t you think here?” My voice cracks. I breathe steadily to will myself not to get emotional.
Alexander is sliding on his loafers and running a hand through his hair. “No. I think I’ll spend the night uptown. Get used to not seeing you for a few days.”
This time it’s my turn to clench my jaw and go grim and broody.
“You’re running. Figures. It’s what you do best.” My words are cold and callous. I turn around and walk back to the living room and take a seat in the chesterfield, pulling the blanket tightly around me. I wince at the sting in my hand that grows the tighter I pull.
The room is still dark except for the damn tree. It looks so festive yet the air is crinkling with anything but holly and joy. Instead I feel anger and resentment.
I should have known our bubble of bliss would be short-lived.
Alexander is not leaving as quickly as I thought he would. In fact, his movements have slowed quite a bit. Out of the corner of my eye I can see his shadow lurking in the hallway. He’s so damn tall and commanding, it’s hard to ignore his presence.
I fix my gaze on the bookshelves in front of me and try to ignore the urge to turn and run into his arms.
He takes a couple of steps toward me, seemingly unsure if he should approach. I let out a loud sigh and he takes that as his cue to walk over to me. Alexander lowers himself to his knees so we are eye level.
Even in the dark, in the twinkling lights, I fall into the damn rabbit hole like I always do. I lift my hand and brush his forehead, cupping his beautiful face in my palm. He relaxes into my skin and lets out a sound of defeat.
“I don’t want to run anymore.”
“I don’t want you to run anymore.”
“I’m still mad.”
“That’s okay.”
He is so afraid of being alone and unwanted. At the first sign of an argument he goes running. But here we are, reconciling like two adults. We may be okay after all.
At least I desperately hope so.
Today has been a strange day. Alexander left early for the office. It was the first time he didn’t wake me before he left. We didn’t talk anymore last night. I let him “think” on the chesterfield while I went to bed. When I woke up at seven, he was gone.
He also cancelled his lessons today, saying he had some important meetings uptown that couldn’t be rescheduled. If there is one thing I found to be true about Alexander Asher it is that the Juliette Academy is the most important thing in his life.
The fact he cancelled classes is alarming.
I left the school early today to make my flight. Alexander wanted me to take his private plane home but I told him it was a gross waste of money. I can fly commercial just like the rest of the world. I did, however, concede to letting his assistant Cecilia book my ticket for me. I have a five o’clock flight out of Newark on United.