Five
As I climb the stairs I hear his angry footsteps behind me. Coming down the hallway as I head toward my bedroom.
"Why the fuck did you just do that?" He demands.
"Do what?" I stop and turn to look at him.
"Out me to my fucking family," he runs a hand through his curly, brown hair, "I wanted to talk to my parents about it first."
The same hair I held onto when he…
Wait, I'm angry.
"Oh for being a fucking liar?" I growl.
"Why are you even here? You don't want to be," he grumbles.
"I don't. I was content with the idea of spending Christmas alone and miserable. You know, letting you really enjoy the festivities as an engaged man," I cross my arms, "Sorry to dent your plans, Daddy."
He looks around the hallway to check no one is listening before climbing the steps to where I'm standing. He's close. Too close. But I'm not about to push him away.
"Will you shut your fucking mouth," he growls, "just stop talking. I'm serious Rose. This could end really badly if you don't…"
"There's a time you would have loved me to call you that," I interrupt him, moving my hand to the handrail.
I don't need to kiss him right now. He's incredibly close. My hands miss the feel of his arms. So I cling to the wood of the bannister beside me. Wishing it was him instead.
"Things change," he glares, "please let me handle this. I'm begging you."
"A time I would have loved to have you begging me too," I make a move to continue up the stairs, but he grabs my arm.
I ignore what it does to my stomach and my legs. Jelly. Melting. Desperation for more of his touch. That grip he'd use to hold my hips, my thighs. My throat when I wanted it rough. I glance down at his hands.
"I will do anything if you please let me handle this," he pleads, "I'm trying my absolute best here."
"That's the thing but Em. I don't want anything from you anymore," I pull on my arm to free myself from his grip, "I was going to give you everything."
"Only you didn't want me to have it," he shakes his head, "You wanted to give it to me at the expense of your own happiness. You weren't sure and you weren't ever going to be. That's not how I want you. I deserve someone who knows how much they want me because I've already had a woman who didn't."
Want.
I narrow my eyes and move in closer to him. So he hears every single word clearly.
"You won't ever get me a-"
"Emmie," a voice stops me, "I'm so sorry. There was a hold-up in New York."
Emmett turns to face the door where the woman from the cafe is standing. She's shrugging off her coat, pulling her scarf off, and not looking in our direction.
For a split second, he turns to look at me. Conflicted. Then his face shifts again, as he turns back to her.
"Cass," he moves toward her, "You made it."
I don't stick around. I can't handle the sound of him saying he loves her. I can't help but hope that he doesn't.
Because that would mean I'm even more hopeless than I first thought.
"It's so messy," I groan into the phone.
"You're the queen of mess baby girl. It's why I hired you. You clean everything so well," Jerry says, "This woman sounds fishy. Don't you think?"
"I do think," I say, "but I'm a woman scorned. If he brought in Ariana Grande I'd think it's fishy."
"Oh Ariana can't hold a candle to you," Jerry scoffs.
"Thanks," I laugh, "I got really drunk. I blurted out his secret and now he hates me."
"Hates you? Babe, he's dying for you. He wants you but he doesn't know how to have you. You didn't want him and it hurt his pride," Jerry explains, "now he's made a mistake and he's trying to right it. Even if it's the wrong way. I think he's drowning and he doesn't know how to swim again."
"I'm not his life raft," I lie back on my bed, feet kicking in the air.
"I wouldn't want you to be," he says, "perhaps he has wild mommy issues. You said he was abandoned as a kid."
"She left him in a playground," I confirm, "stapled a note to him saying she gave up or something. Esme found him."
"That's fucking horrific," he says, "that poor boy."
"I know it is. I cried when he told me," I study my fingernails to try not to do it again.
"What's holding you back babe? Why can't you just let yourself go for it. You're never going to open up to anybody like this," he sighs.
"I don't honestly know. I really liked him. I could have fallen so easily," I explain.
I do know.
"You're a commitment-phobe and he's a commitment guy," he summarises, "he wanted all of you and you were only willing to give him half."
"I'm sure the second half would have joined eventually," I sigh.
"But why should he have to wait for that babe? He wanted all of you," he says, "he was sure he had it and he didn't. It would have hurt his pride."
"You're saying I led him on?" I ask.
"Not intentionally. You thought he'd be happy with just sex and he probably might have been if you weren't so fricken perfect," I hear a cork pop in the background, "but it sounds to me like he couldn't stop himself from falling for you and you did stop yourself in such a brutal way. You denied yourself such a huge chance at a guy who was obsessed with you because of your own self-doubt. You're proof that the most stunning person in the room isn't the happiest. You don't see yourself like the world does."
"I hate your honesty," I groan.
"You hate that I'm right," he laughs, "Rose, I watched you try and fail to get over this guy. If he was just sex you wouldn't be failing. You'd be over him and under a new guy. Have you had sex at all since?"
"I… I've been busy. Besides he got over me," I say.
"I don't think he did," he disagrees, "I think he settled for the next best thing. A distraction."
"Fatherhood isn't a distraction," I say.
"No it's not. But it's enough to fill the hole he carved out for you," he says, "Try to keep an open mind okay. He sounds as if he's trying to compensate for a bad situation he feels responsible for. He likely hoped you two would work out, was fucking someone else for a bit and then boom she wound up pregnant."
"You think he still has feelings for me?" I can't believe that.
"Of course I do," he laughs, "you're his big unrequited love."
I roll my eyes. I scoff.
"How long ago did he stop texting you?" He asks.
"Like four months," I shrug, "we slept together like a handful of times after he called it quits last year."
"Right so he could have started seeing someone else trying to move ok but his rebound became his baby mamma," he says, "he obviously struggles to process emotions. Just like you do. He feels the full impact while you struggle to feel them at all."
"I do have feelings," I wish he could see my glare.
"You just are shit at communicating them when you need to. Fuck. I have to go. My dinner is burning," he mutters profanity before hanging up.
I sit up on the mattress and cross my legs with a huff.
Lying there I think. I worry. What if I'd battled harder? What if I'd let myself do it? Fall for him.
There had just been too many reasons to not to. Actually there was just one. The fear one day he'd suddenly stop loving me. Like my parents did. That he'd be taken.
Falling for him now to have him fall out of love later. Or even worse. It was safer to keep it casual.
But right now fear has been the biggest enemy I've ever had.
Because someone else has him now
I wanted him more than her.
Thanks for reading x