AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Cole: Two, unless that’s too obvious. 24/7. I don’t want her knowing they’re there. She’ll rip my balls off.
Mila: I’m on it.
Cole: Thank you
She’s going to be even more pissed, but I’ll take pissed and alive-and-well over the alternative. If they’re good, she’ll never even know they’re there.
“Okay, gentleman, I need to rest. I’ll leave you to it,” Edmund stands and heads down the stairs leaving Dante, Liam, and I alone on the rooftop.
I lean my head back on the sofa cushion and look up at the familiar stars overhead. It’s late morning in London, she isn’t even able to see the same constellations as me right now.
I don’t know how much time has passed, lost in my thoughts, when Dante interrupts, “It was more fun with the brown-eyed girl here.”
“It was,” Liam kicks his feet up on the coffee table and settles in like we’re going to have a friendly group discussion about this now.
“We aren’t doing this,” I whisk that notion away.
“I’m not doing anything,” Dante quips sarcastically, “nothing at all.”
“What can you possibly contribute, anyway?” I challenge, “There is absolutely no sage advice you can offer. You’re the biggest whore on the planet.”
Liam nods.
“That’s true,” Dante agrees.
Idiot.
“I’m still jealous I didn’t get to steal the tire with you guys,” Liam adds.
Dante tells him the story again, laughing and moaning as he impersonates Emily pretending we were having some kind of orgy in the garage restroom.
I feel myself smiling as I remember it.
“Why the hell are you smiling? You’re supposed to be miserable. You’re supposed to miss her. Hell, we miss her. Did you know that she thanks Siri when she asks her phone to do something? Who does that?” Liam furrows his brows at me.
“I’m plenty miserable, thanks for asking.” And yes, I know that she thanks Siri, even when she has to push the button a second time just to say it.
I just have enough faith in Emily, in us, that she’ll come back. She knows I’m not going anywhere. She now knows I’ve always been there, even if that makes me a stalker, or whatever she called me.
She forgets she told me she was doing the same thing for six years. Watching all my races, reading all my interviews, prowling the social media posts I made solely because I knew she’d see them.
She’s smart, and she has inner strength she underestimates, but she’s stubborn. Pushing her now will only make her feel more manipulated and defensive. Even if she doesn’t believe in herself, I believe in her, and I have to believe she’ll come back.
I just pray it isn’t another six years.
More than anything, I hate that she is all alone right now. It’s the worst feeling in the world. You can surround yourself with hundreds of people and still feel so utterly, devastatingly alone.
I wish she could see the stars right now and know she isn’t.
“If you two want to help, maybe just text her and just let her know you miss her.” She doesn’t want to hear from me, but she does have other people who care about her. She should know that.
I may have called Makenna a couple of days ago and asked her to do the same. We ended up yelling at one another, but I’m still glad I called because Emily hadn’t told her anything.
Makenna wanted to blame me, which is fine. That’s her job as Emily’s best friend to support her, throw me under the bus, and call me every name in the book. I get it.
It is ironic, though, that those privileges do not extend to men. If men speak that way about a friend’s recent ex, they’d expect a swift, blinding, and well-deserved fist to the face.
Regardless, I may have told Makenna off for planting nonsense in Emily’s mind about me cheating on her the day she raided our apartment.
