20
Emmy
Pulling on a pair of cream-colored wool tights and a soft gray knit dress, I checked myself in the mirror one last time. I looked tired. My curled hair and mascaraed lashes couldn’t hide the fact that I was miserable without Ben. My skin was pale and my expression was sullen. Oh well. It would have to do.
Ellie had succeeded in talking me into meeting her for a Christmas Eve drink in Manhattan. She promised me it would be relaxed and low key and said that the little twinkling white lights and Christmas decorations would lift my spirits. Either that or the rum-spiked eggnog would.
I was making an effort, just like I’d promised her I would. And I was trying, I really was. I’d been showering regularly and had been eating better, too. On the outside I appeared to be healing. But since seeing Ben randomly on the Upper East Side last week, my foolish heart latched onto how sweet and attentive he’d been, how sad and miserable he’d looked without me, the dark circles under his eyes indicating a lack of sleep. It tugged on my heart. But I was being strong. Even if it meant I had to give myself daily pep talks and cry myself to sleep each night.
To make matters worse, for the first time ever, I wasn’t going home for Christmas. My mom and dad had made plans with friends from church. She said that’s what empty nesters did, and since I was home for Thanksgiving, she didn’t think I’d be coming home for Christmas, too. It was probably just as well since I was willing to bet the memories of Ben’s last visit to my parents’ home would still be too fresh. The way he’d accepted my family and our lifestyle meant so much to me. But I couldn’t let myself focus on that now.
I slid on my brown knee-high boots and grabbed my purse. After bundling up and heading outside, I opted to spring for a cab rather than take the subway. For some unknown reason Ben had continued paying me my full salary, and being a hermit for the past several weeks I’d hardly spent a dime. I crossed my mitten-covered fingers that I could successfully hail a cab. Seconds later a yellow taxi pulled to a stop on the curb next to me. The simple accomplishment did wonders for my self-esteem. I pushed my shoulders back and slid inside the warm car. “The Waldorf Astoria, please,” I told the driver. The bar I was meeting Ellie at was inside the historic hotel.
When I arrived, a uniformed doorman greeted me and pulled open the doors of the bustling hotel. I wandered inside the massive and elaborately decorated lobby. The scent of leather and citrus furniture polish was in the air as I made my way toward the entrance of the bar.
I found Ellie sitting alone, chatting casually with the bartender. When she spotted me she hopped up from her stool. “Oh, good, you’re here!” She slung her purse over her shoulder.
“Are we getting a drink?” I noticed the distinct lack of beverages in front of her.
“I’ve arranged for us to have a tour of the hotel. This place is supposed to be really cool.”
I groaned. “I don’t want a tour. I just want to sit like a lump.” Getting myself dressed and out the door was a big enough adventure. Now I just wanted the drink I’d been promised.
“It’ll be fun. Stop whining,” she commanded, picking up her coat from the stool beside her and draping it over her arm.
“Let’s just get a drink and go home. Put on pajamas and order Chinese food,” I begged.
“No, come on. It’ll just be a quick tour.”
Knowing that arguing with a determined-looking Ellie was pointless, I dutifully followed her to the elevators.
She pressed the button for the top floor and grinned widely. She was being quiet. Too quiet, and something about her odd behavior was setting off warning bells inside my head. I couldn’t take another setup, and I would have no problem telling her no and leaving if that’s what this was. I wasn’t ready to date—now, or maybe ever. My life post-Ben was still in a tailspin. She just needed to accept that.
When the elevators doors opened I expected to find a hotel employee there, and maybe a group of tourists for the supposed tour, but the hallway was quiet and empty. I followed Ellie across the hall to a set of French doors. She knocked once and the door was pulled open. My brother Porter stood there, smiling back at me.
“Porter!” I squealed and threw myself into his arms.
“Hey, sis,” he greeted me, his southern drawl more pronounced than mine.
“What are you doing here?” I slugged his shoulder. How dare he come to New York and not tell me. He opened the door wider and I spotted my parents standing in the beautiful living room behind him. “Mom? Dad?” I crossed the threshold, now thoroughly baffled, and gave them both hugs. I blinked back a rush of tears as emotions roared through me.
“Hi honey,” my mom said, planting a kiss on my forehead.
“What’s going on?” My eyes danced around the lavishly decorated hotel suite. A large, bushy evergreen adorned with twinkling lights and red-and-gold ribbon stood in the corner and filled the room with the lovely scent of crisp pine needles. A glass cart held a combination of crystal decanters and stemware. The coffee table was lined with various appetizers and finger foods.
“We’re here to celebrate Christmas in New York with you, honey,” my mom said, smoothing my curls back from my face. My dad, Ellie, and Porter stood in the center of the living room, watching my confused expression.
“I don’t understand . . .” My eyes scanned the room, following my mom’s softening gaze.
Ben.
He stood tall and devastatingly handsome, dressed in a shirt and tie in the dining alcove just off the living space.
“Hi,” he said simply.
Had he arranged this whole thing? Flown my parents and brother here? Rented this lavish room? Filled it with a live Christmas tree and delectable foods? Coerced Ellie into dragging me up here? My heart stuttered in my chest. It was too much. He was too much. Knowing that he was here, fighting for me, trying to prove his love for me, filled me with longing. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks as I drank him in.
Ben crossed the room in three long strides, drawing me into his arms. His embrace lifted my feet clear off the floor and held me against him. He crushed me against his chest like he was never going to let me go. I hung there suspended in the air, big ugly tears streaming down my cheeks. I couldn’t control the emotions warring inside me, so I didn’t even try. I had no idea what his gesture meant or where we’d go from here. All I knew is that I’d never felt more loved and cherished, and he hadn’t even said a single word yet. He’d spoken to me through his actions—what I’d wanted from him all along. He’d brought me my family, he’d brought me Christmas, knowing how important family traditions were to me. It choked me up and made my heart ache.
After several long moments of just holding me silently and letting me cry, Ben set me on my feet.
“Can we talk?” he asked softly.
I was all too aware of the roomful of people surrounding us, collectively holding their breath, waiting to see what I’d do. I caught my lower lip between my teeth and thought about what to say. How did I tell the man I was desperately in love with no? That I couldn’t have my heart broken again? I swallowed the dryness in my throat. How did I explain how completely he’d broken me? That I’d considered getting on antidepressants just to get over him? It probably wasn’t a good sign that my heart, mind, and body still wanted him, as much as I might try to deny it.
I turned to face our spectators. “This may get kind of loud, so if you’re squeamish, leave now.” When my gaze returned to Ben he was smiling crookedly.
“This way.” He took my hand and led me down the suite’s hall. We passed several doors on our way to the end of the hall. Lord, how many bedrooms did this suite have? Closing us inside a lavish bedroom with a queen-sized bed, writing desk, and chaise lounge, Ben caged me in against the wall, one hand splayed across my hip, one tilting my mouth up to meet his. His kiss was possessive, evocative, and hard. He was kissing me as though it was our last. The thought filled me with remorse. My brain screamed at me. I couldn’t lose him, but I needed to tell him what was on my mind before I lost myself completely to his kiss.
I pushed hard against his chest to break the connection and drew a shaky gulp of air.
Ben’s knuckles stroked my jaw. “You okay, baby?”
I pushed his hand away. “Don’t baby me.”
“What? You warned them this could get loud . . . I thought you wanted . . .” His brow knitted in confusion.
Oh my God. He thought I wanted sex? Ha! “Yes, loud because I’d be yelling at you.”
“Oh.”
Yeah. Oh. “Ben . . .” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to calm myself. “Bringing my family here . . . planning this surprise is incredible, but it doesn’t fix things between us.”
His face fell.
“Don’t you dare let me find out things that big about your life on the Internet.”
He nodded sheepishly. “I’m so sorry. I’ll spend the rest of forever making it up to you, if you just let me.”
“I don’t need to know that you had a crush on your teacher in the third grade. What I need is to trust you.”
“I know, baby. I know. I promise you that you can.” I’d never seen his expression so somber, his eyes so sad. “These last few weeks have been the worst of my life, Emmy. I can’t lose you. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”
My heart clenched in my chest and I drew a deep breath. His sincerity, his masculine scent, the pain reflected in his eyes was too much. I turned away from him, gazing out the window to the city blanketed by snow. Things looked so simple on the outside; traffic continued zooming past, lights burned brightly in the distance, people huddled into their coats for warmth on the sidewalk below. Life went on. There was beauty, heartache, and love so bottomless you felt it deep in your core. That was the love Ben and I had found. We’d hit some bumpy patches, sure, but my mom’s advice resonated in my head. Perhaps it was all part of life. There were ups and downs, love and loss. And I knew in my heart, I wasn’t ready to give him up. Not over a stupid video he’d made years ago before he even knew me. I’d just need to grow thicker skin if I wanted to be with him.
I turned to face him in the silent room. “There aren’t going to be any more women, any more stories coming out of the woodwork, are there?”
“No ma’am.” His voice was firm.
I paced the room, planting my hands on my hips. “Thank God you only slept with three girls before me—you seem to make stupid decisions where sex is involved. And don’t think I won’t track down the third girl and grill her if necessary. Because I will.” I jabbed a finger in his direction.
“No, that’s not needed.”
I shot him a warning glare that said I wasn’t above doing just that. I knew Bray would help me if I needed it.
“Listen, Emmy, I’m trying to tell you, this last month has been the hardest of my life. I can’t survive without you. You’re my world, baby. Please say you can forgive me.”
His hand found mine and he laced our fingers together, joining us from wrist to elbow. The warmth of his skin, the weight of his hand in mine, the burn in his gaze all served to remind me I really was his. And I couldn’t live without him, either. Looking into his hazel gaze felt like coming home. No way was I willing to give that up.
I lifted on my toes and pressed a kiss to his surprised mouth. “I forgive you,” I murmured.
His mouth slanted against mine and his tongue sought entrance, lightly stroking my own. God, I’d missed him. I missed everything about him. His sweet kisses, his filthy murmurings in my ear, the feel of his firm body pressed to mine. I was stupid to think a video recorded years ago was enough to come between us. He held my jaw in his hands and kissed me like his life depended on it. I realized something in that moment. I wouldn’t let anything come between us ever again. We’d weather whatever storms life delivered together.
His hands wandered from my face to my neck, sliding down over my shoulders, my lower back, and down to my bottom, which he cupped in his palms to haul me closer. “Don’t ever leave me again, baby. Ever. Promise me.”
“I promise,” I whispered in between kisses.
Being back in Ben’s arms gave me solace. Not the kind of fairytale love that the movies portrayed. What we had was real. We were real. We made mistakes, held grudges, and then moved on. It actually gave me piece of mind to know that.
“Come on, your family’s probably wondering where we are,” he said, releasing his tight hold on me ever so slightly.
Remembering that my mom, dad, and brother were here in New York warmed my heart. “Thank you for bringing them to me. That was incredibly thoughtful and sweet of you.”
Taking my hand in his once again, he led me back to the living room. My mom and Ellie rushed to my side, questioning smiles ghosting their lips.
“Everything okay?” my mom asked.
Keeping one hand possessively curled around my hip, Ben looked to me to answer.
“Everything’s great, Mom.” I gave Ellie a reassuring look, too, letting her know there were no hard feelings for dragging me over here.
My dad and brother remained planted across the room, watching us as they quietly sipped their drinks. Watching me with Ben, my dad’s mouth curled into a lazy smile, and while Porter still looked guarded, he nodded something in silent agreement to Ben.
Now that I was more relaxed I took in the room more thoroughly. The ten-foot evergreen tree smelled intoxicating and made the room cozy and inviting. I didn’t know how he’d managed to get a Christmas tree delivered to a hotel room, but I knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do for me. The thought filled my heart with love.
My mom, ever the hostess, ensured everyone had a cocktail in their hands and encouraged us to eat. The hors d’oeuvres did look delicious and smelled even better.
“Are you hungry?” Ben asked.
“A little,” I admitted.
He released his hold on me just long enough to prepare me a small plate of bruschetta, spicy shrimp on skewers, and mushrooms stuffed with feta cheese.
Yum.
I accepted the plate and nibbled on a bite of shrimp. The emotional journey over the past hour had left me surprisingly hungry.
Ben helped himself to a shrimp from the platter then returned to my side, his large hand once again finding my hip to curl around me possessive and sure.
After we’d eaten all the appetizers and devoured the mini chocolate cheesecakes for dessert, my mom shuffled us to sit down around the tree.
My parents, Ellie, and Porter sunk into the inviting sofa and armchairs while I sat cross-legged on the floor next to the tree. It was the spot I always took at home on Christmas morning to pass out the presents. Ben settled next to me on an ottoman.
“Too bad I didn’t know you guys were coming. I don’t have any gifts for you,” I commented.
“That’s okay, honey. Christmas isn’t about the gifts. I’m just so glad we’re together.”
“Me too.” My eyes found Ben’s.
“Besides, Ben gave us the best gift of all: being here together.” My mom smiled warmly at him. Oh yeah, my mom was sold. Hook, line, and sinker. He tended to have that effect on women.
He was still watching me intently, making me feel so incredibly cherished and special. “I think there is one present in the tree.” He pointed to a branch near the center of the tree and I saw that he was right. Nestled among the pine needles was a tiny turquoise-colored box.
I felt the air around us shift. My mom leaned forward in her seat and Ellie held her breath. What was going on?
Ben rose to his feet and plucked the little box from inside the tree, then turned to face me, looking contemplative. Brilliant hazel eyes locked on mine and one hand lovingly stroked my cheek as he stood before me.
“Before you came along, I didn’t know there was a piece of me missing. But there was. You’ve taken a place in my life, in my heart, that was empty before.”
A stray tear escaped my eye and rolled along my cheek. Ben’s thumb caught it and he smiled at me lightly before continuing. “You’ve enriched my life, made it more complete, and I don’t want to spend any more of my days without you by my side. I love you with my whole heart.”
My heart galloped in my chest, watching this beautiful man pour his heart out to me. My mom was now actively crying and my confused brain scrambled to try to make sense of this moment.
He dropped down onto both knees and kneeled before me, looking deep into my eyes. He slowly opened the box. “Will you be my wife, Emerson Jean?”
Big tears leaked from my eyes and my heart tripped over itself at hearing those words fall from Ben’s mouth. It was everything I’d wanted and more.
But not like this. Not because he felt backed into a corner and needed to make some grand gesture to win me back. I wanted to shout yes, to throw myself into his embrace, to knock him to the floor and kiss him senseless. But the little annoying voice in the back of my head refused to pipe down.
Ben’s confidence faltered, and I saw his jaw tense as he waited for me to answer.
Shit.
I knew how this man was with rejection, and I wasn’t rejecting him . . . I just needed to talk to him about this. To be sure this was what he wanted.
“Emmy,” he whispered, his voice a hoarse plea. “Do you want some privacy?” he whispered.
I nodded.
He lifted me from the floor and carried me to the back bedroom we’d been in only moments before.
He set me on my feet, cupping my cheeks. “Baby?” Ben’s voice broke and his eyes were filled with worry. “Please talk to me . . .”
I stood there uselessly sobbing because I’d just ruined my own proposal. Why hadn’t I just said yes and then talked to him later in private? I’d taken what should have been a beautiful moment and turned it into drama. We had a roomful of people down the hall probably wondering what in the world was going on, and I had a wounded and hurt man standing in front of me.
“Fuck,” he roared, shutting the door firmly behind us. “I should’ve never planned this elaborate thing in front of your family. I’m sorry, baby. Tell me why you’re crying. Tell me how to fix it.”
I drew a deep gulp of air and wiped the remnants of my ruined mascara from under my eyes, searching for a way to fix this.