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With that, I’d ended the call.
I took a long, slow sip of my coffee, my eyes still on the water. The bathroom door opened behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to watch as Emily strode into the bedroom, her hair slicked back and a towel wrapped around her body just above her breasts.
She didn’t give me a single look as she got dressed, pulling on a pair of light blue panties and stripping her towel off, exposing her beautiful breasts for a moment as she put on a white bra. As much as I was enjoying the view, I decided to give her a bit of privacy as she finished getting dressed.
“Hey.” A few moments later, she stepped out onto the balcony. Her hair was still slicked back, highlighting her stunning face. She wore a simple dress, white with a baby-bluefloral pattern. Though all I could think about were the bra and panties she had on underneath.
“You think about it?”
She nodded. “I did. First, I want to know what the hell he wanted.”
“According to him, he wanted to make sure you were alright.”
She let out a loud, but humorless laugh. “Not a chance in hell he gives a shit about that. Well, aside from caring in the way someone would about property they were worried might’ve been damaged. I kind of wish you’d told him to go fuck himself.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That’s an expression I don’t think I’ve heard you use.”
Emily formed a sheepish grin, as if she were in trouble.
“Something about him brings it out of me, I guess.” She cleared her throat and went on. “Really, there’s no way he cares if I’m alright. Never cared a day in his life. I’ve always been more like… like apropto him, something he has to maintain. He’s never let me have friends, never let me experience the world. Instead, he’s always treated me more like a prisoner or one of those harem women.”
She let out another dry laugh, this one somehow even more mirthless than the last.
“You know, the other day Marianne was listening to music, something I’d never heard before. I asked who it was, and she was shocked I didn’t already know. She said it was someone named Taylor Swift.”
“One of Marianne’s favorites. Not my cup of tea.”
Emily’s eyes flashed. “See! Even you knew who she was. So, I go on Wikipedia and it turns out she’s one of the most famous singers in the world. And I’dneverheard of her.”
Her face turned a deeper shade of red as her anger grew.
“My dad’s a liar and a bastard, a real piece of shit.” Her words dripped with venom. “Did I ever tell you about the two times I tried to rebel against him?”
“No.”
She let out an amused snort. “Tried to sneak out once when I was fifteen. Just wanted to see what the world was like outside of my prison of a house or whatever boarding school he’d shipped me off to. Anyway, he caught me, took away my books, my journals, and even Marta. I was a kid, so I of course tried again a few months later. That time, he took all of that away again, and hit me.”
Now it was my turn to feel anger. Just the thought of that prick laying his hands on Emily was enough to make me want to jump on my private plane and kick his ass in person. The conversation wasn’t about me, however. I set my anger aside and focused on her.
She kept her eyes on the ocean, a single tear trickling down her face.
“You don’t have to talk to him.” I wiped the tear away with my thumb, gently turning her toward me. “And when I say that I mean you don’t have to talk to him ever again.”
Her eyes widened as it dawned on her what I was saying.
“You don’t mean that. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t meant it.”
Emily pursed her lips and nodded. “Thank you. I mean that. Thank you for making me feel safe.”
The anger subsided for a moment, replaced by the sentiment that I’d actually done the right thing back when I’d accepted Charles’s barbaric proposal. Emily hugged me tightly, and I returned the hug, wrapping her in my arms and holding her close.
After a few moments, she stepped back.
“You know, I think I actually do want to talk to him.”
“Are you sure?”
