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“Sleep,mi cielo.” He smoothed his hand over my hair, his movements comforting. “Sleep.”
When I woke again, the bed was empty. Knox had filled my water bottle, and there were fresh peonies on the nightstand. I smiled and stretched, feeling a little better but still groggy. The palm trees were casting long shadows on the floor. A glance at my phone told me it was late afternoon, and I’d missed a few text messages from Emmy.
Emmy: Whew. This morning was crazy. Are you okay?
Emmy: I’m sure K is taking good care of you. But let me know if you need anything.
I smiled and sent back a quick text.
Thanks, Em. I passed out after everyone left. I only just woke up.
Emmy: I’m glad you got some rest.
Me too. That was…a lot.
Emmy: I’ll say. What are you going to do about the yacht party?
I groaned. Part of me had hoped this morning was a figment of my imagination. A nightmare. It had certainly felt like one. But Emmy’s texts reminded me that it wasn’t. And I didn’t know what the heck I was going to do.
I don’t know. Knox and I need to talk about it.
Emmy: What do you want to do?
I’m tired of lying, but I’m scared.
Emmy: I have to say…you two are really cute together. He’s good for you.
I smiled down at my phone, appreciating her approval more than she could know.
Thanks, Em. That means the world to me.
Emmy: I’m just glad to see you happy.
You’re going to make me cry! And ditto.
Talk later?
Emmy: Definitely.
I brushed my teeth and splashed some water on my face. My skin was still pale, but at least my stomach seemed to have calmed down. I wandered down the hallway, following the sound of Knox’s voice to his office. When I peeked inside, he immediately smiled and waved me in.
I padded across the rug, and he said, “I’ll call you back,” to whoever was on the phone. He stood and rounded the desk, pulling me into his side. “Hey. You’re up.”
I nodded, reveling in his touch. Feeling safe in the warmth of his embrace. It was comforting in a way I’d never experienced, yet also terrifying. Knox had become such a part of my life, such a part of me, and I worried I was becoming too reliant on him.
“You okay?” he asked, rubbing gentle circles on my back.
I held on tighter, needing reassurance. No one had ever taken care of me apart from my mom. And even then, it had never been like this. Not that she didn’t love me or didn’t want to. But as a solo parent who was responsible for paying the bills and raising me on her own, she didn’t have much time or energy for comfort and care. If she missed a callback, we didn’t eat.
I didn’t realize I was crying until Knox said, “Hey,” in a gentle tone. “Mi cielo.What’s wrong?”
He pulled back to look at me, drying my tears with his thumbs.
“What are we doing?” I blurted.
“Hugging,” he said, intentionally misinterpreting my question.
“Knox,” I chided. “You know what I mean. This morning—with Jude?” I shook my head. “God, I feel sick just thinking about it.”
