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Irelynn
October8,2018,6:30p.m.
My gaze lingers on the doorway, my ears straining for any sound of his impending approach. I glance at the clock, then back at the wooden door, a frown marring my face. My foot on the floor bounces, my other leg bent in, and I twist my necklace that Mike gave me as a high school graduation present.
“So, he hasn’t told you anything, either?” I sit on my bed, twirling the pasta around my fork, too upset to eat.
Emma releases a sigh, turning her head to mine. “I’m so sorry, Miss Irelynn.” Her voice is sympathetic. “William hasn’t mentioned anything. He seemed sullen and angry when he came down for breakfast, then he retreated to his study, where he locked himself away for the rest of the day.”
Nodding, my eyes remain downcast, staring at my food with unseeing eyes. I knew I’d pissed him off, but I’m still upset he’s punishing me by withholding information.
He’s hurt because he knows you still love Max so damn much. There’s no way for me to hide it. Max consumes my every waking thought, my emotions going haywire as I wait for news about him.
Pulling my thoughts back to my present reality, I glance over at Emma. “Do you know where William is right now?”
Her head turns and she stares at me. “Still licking his wounds in his study, I imagine.” She blows out a breath. “I don’t know what happened when he went to the warehouse, but he returned enraged. He seemed relieved you were asleep, and he beckoned me into the hallway.” She pauses, lost in thought. “He simply told me to go to bed. I’ve known William since he was a kid, and I’ve never seen him unravel like that.” She lets out a sigh, as though she’s searching for the right way to describe it. “He seemed preoccupied and worried, as though he’s got a problem he’s unsure how to handle. I’ve never known William to falter when it comes to making decisions. He thinks quickly on his feet.”
I suck in a breath, feeling worried.Is his problem Max or Damian? Or both?I continue toying with my food, my appetite vanishing.
“Eat your food, sweetheart. You need your strength.” She studies me intently. “You are like a flower that is slowly withering. Your inner light is fading, Miss Irelynn, and you can’t let that happen. Otherwise, what is left of you?”
Sighing, I take a few bites, not tasting or enjoying my food. My stomach is twisted in knots, worried that Max is…
Emma clears her throat and I look over at her, meeting her worried eyes. She frowns and her gaze drops to my plate, the vast majority of my food untouched.
“Sorry, Emma. I just…” Tears burn my eyes, then spill over, coursing down my cheeks.
I manage to choke about half my food down. Emma gives me a thumbs up. “Something is better than nothing, sweet girl.” She slowly stands and for a moment, I see her wavering before she regroups. Her movements are slow as she comes over and takes my plate away.
“Emma, are you feeling okay?”
She hesitates, her smile faltering before it widens and she nods. “Of course, dear. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Without sparing me another glance, she heads to the door, her movements very measured and careful.
I chew on my nail after she leaves, my brow furrowing, worry filling me.Emma looked really pale when she grabbed my plate.
Twenty minutes later, I hear footsteps outside the door.“Emma, I’m really worried—”
But it’s not Emma standing in the doorway.
It’s William.
Every muscle in my body goes taut and my stomach roils, feeling uneasy because of what happened the last time he visited me.
Worry is etched all over his features as he steps inside the room, closing the door behind him. He approaches me slowly and cautiously, as though he’s uneasy, too.
My eyes scan over his unkempt appearance, my mouth falling open from shock. William has always maintained a perfectly polished appearance, even when he was just hanging around with my brother.
My eyes widen as I take in his gray sweatpants and long-sleeve t-shirt, his skin pale and drawn, his hair tousled like he’s run his hands through it half a dozen times.
My movements still and I tilt my head, waiting for him to say something.
He stops about two feet from my bed, his eyebrows drawn together. “Did something happen to Emma?”
I release the breath I’m holding. “She wavered when she stood to get my plate, as though she was off balance, and she looked pale. But when I asked if she was feeling okay, she wasn’t truthful.”
“She lied?”
“Not necessarily. She just didn’t want to be a bother. She does what I do in those circumstances. You just tell people you’re fine when they inquire. Most people won’t dig any deeper.”
