Emma

I trudge to the bus stop feeling drained and not at all capable of a session and knowing that I don’t have a choice because another sleepless night and day without food will see me on my ass.

Yeah, I know it’s only been days since I left Colton but the pain that’s festering inside me makes it feel like an eternity. I get on the bus and watch it pull away just as he exits the building, looking around as if-

Our eyes meet for one second and it’s in that instant that I know she’s looking for me, probably fed up with me ignoring his calls and Buck ignoring the door. Thank God, Buck’s been away in Detroit for the last week, his trainer having set up a fight that he couldn’t bounce on. If not, he’d have lost his shit long ago, not just last night when he returned and Colton came back.

Yeah, he came by. I was surprised too, believe me. I thought me not answering my phone and telling Mira I needed to leave early would have sent the message my words obviously didn’t, but I was wrong. At least the last few days of me not reacting at all should have yelled it loud enough.

He pounded on the door for an hour, trying to talk to me through the wood while Buck hissed curses and tried to get passed me to beat the hell out of Colton.

I refused, choosing instead to threaten Buck with a full month of silence if he so much as touched the door before going to bed. I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. Every time I closed my eyes, I would see his face and by three in the morning, I was ready to have myself lobotomized to stop the images I want to forget.

The bus seems to take forever to get where I’m going and I get off with a sigh of relief before stomping my way towards the house where Doc Lyndon has her private offices.

The door opens before I can knock and I try to smile at the short, grey haired doctor I’ve been seeing for four years.

“Good God, Emma! Are you okay?” she gasps, shepherding me in and closing the door.

I stomp into her office, the space open and airy with personal touches that I can’t bring myself to appreciate. Falling into a chair, I breathe out and close my eyes, fatigue hitting me anew.

“I’m not so good today,” I manage to say, the throbbing behind my temples making my head feel heavy on my neck.

She sits in her usual chair but instead of taking her pen and pad as usual she leans forward and touches my wrist, frowning slightly.

“Your pulse is thready, Emma. Are you ill? Should I call an ambulance or Buck?”

Yeah, that would be great! Let’s just announce to the world that poor little Emma has finally gone and had her nervous breakdown. I’m sure my mother would be delighted to hear that.

“Have you ever been in love?” I ask instead, looking out of the window as the sun starts to sink lower.

It will only set later but the sky is taking on that slightly orange glow that heralds the dusk and it’s so beautiful I can’t look away. I need some beauty right now or I’ll fall to pieces. It’s so close.

“Emma, honey, are you in love?” she asks quietly, her voice soothing and familiar, helping to still the coldness that’s creeping in hour by hour.

“I think so. At least I thought so just a few days ago, before…” I swallow and keep looking, feeling detached, as if my mind doesn’t want to work quite right.

“Before what, Emma? What happened? You missed your session last week. It was the first time in over four years that I haven’t seen you here on a Wednesday,” she says softly, making me snort.

I haven’t missed, ever. Not when I got sick or I had to work or even when I had exams and one ran late. I always come to therapy because I don’t think I can miss it without feeling like I’m cheating the process. Even money doesn’t trump therapy. Nothing does, except a broken heart.

“I couldn’t…talk about it last week. It was too much,” I whisper, blinking when the urge to close my eyes becomes overwhelming.

“You’re exhausted, Emma! You look awful, sweetheart, and you’ve lost weight. Won’t you tell me what’s going on?” she asks, getting me to look at her when I hear the alarm in her tone.

“I met someone.”

“That’s good, Emma! I told you it would happen.”

“Yeah, but it just…it was like being bowled over by a truck. It happened so fast, I still can’t believe I didn’t fight it.”

She frowns and I want to walk out of here because I don’t want her to know how stupid I’ve been. Buck is already enough, his anger already too much to deal with.

“Tell me everything, Emma. Please. Let me help you.”

“I met this man, Colton. He’s…beautiful. I know men aren’t supposed to be called beautiful but he is. And he’s smart and funny and he made me feel as if he saw me,” I say, breathing raggedly to stop myself from tearing up.

“That’s good. Isn’t it?”

“No! Because I felt so right when I was with him. He made me want to try harder and be more and I felt…less afraid. So I convinced myself that knowing him for a few weeks didn’t mean I was being impulsive. I let him seduce me, doc. I told myself that I shouldn’t hold back so I didn’t. I put everything into what I felt and then…I slept with him. I told him I was a virgin and I slept with him and the next morning he accused me of lying and trying to trick him because he’s rich and powerful and…”

I stop, my heart beating hard while she hands me a tissue, letting me know that I’m crying silently.

“Oh, Emma.”

“He said I was lying! I didn’t lie,” I say, the pain I feel spilling over into my voice.

“No, sweetie, you didn’t. Did you tell him about Duncan?” she asks quietly, her kind face making me strive not to break down even if I want to so badly.

I know if I cry, really cry and just get it all out that I’ll feel better but I’m so scared that if I let go I won’t be able to stop.

“I was going to. I wanted to the next morning even though I was scared. I would have too. I woke up really early and I couldn’t go back to sleep because I was feeling really unsure about the way he was after…anyway, I made breakfast and I thought we can talk and I can explain about what happened.”

“What did happen?” she presses, the hard tone she uses when I pull back making my lips tremble into a reluctant smile.

See, this is why she’s the only doctor who fits me. She’s soft and neutral and she lets me work through things but she also demands answers sometimes when I am too afraid to face them.

“He told me I was a liar, that I slept with him because he has money. He called me everything but a whore. It sounded like he was accusing me of selling myself, just like they wanted to do to me and I flipped. It hurt so much I just felt like I was shutting down, ya know? Like I was going cold. I told him I love him and he…it didn’t matter. So I decided to leave but he started telling me that we could still be together if I was honest and…”

The nausea that’s been plaguing me for days tries to rise but I battle it down and swallow, breathing deeply to keep myself together.

“Emma, did you at any point tell him about what happened to you?” she asks in kind understanding.

“I couldn’t. I felt so hurt already I just couldn’t face having that conversation with him. What if he called me a liar again? What if it didn’t matter?”

Doctor Lyndon doesn’t answer but I don’t need her to, I already know that a part of my silence was me protecting myself.

“You haven’t been eating or sleeping, Emma.”

“I tried at work today but it made me sick.”

She sighs, her role as a healer obviously fighting against her personal need to say something she thinks I need to hear.

“I have been with my husband for thirty years, Emma and, yeah, sometimes love sucks but not always. If you love this man, you tell him the truth. If that isn’t enough then you walk away and you find a way to move on. Above all else, Emma, you don’t let this take away what you feel about you. You weren’t stupid, you aren’t stupid, and you are worth loving. If Colton can’t see that, then you’re better off without him.”

“I know,” I say, looking out to see the sun dip further. “I just wish it was different. He’s the one I never thought I could have, doc. Buck wanted to beat him up and I didn’t even tell him everything, just that it didn’t work out.”

“Well kid, I’m sorry to say this but you look like hell,” she says, chuckling when I blink and find a smile.

“I know. My boss asked me if I had a family death and Aunt Sue keeps threatening to call Jamaica.”

She laughs, knowing Jamaica even if they’ve never met and I sniff again, drying the last of my tears with a steadying breath that makes me feel stronger somehow.

“They love you, Emma.”

“I know. That’s why I came today. I figured I better talk about this before I do something stupid.” I admit. “Not that! But I was starting to feel a little crazy.”

“Love does that sometimes. It has a lot of power and no, I don’t think any less of what you feel because of time. You feel what you feel and no one can change it. What I want you to do is go home, eat a good meal and try to sleep. Better yet, you can take the pills I prescribed for you for once.”

“I don’t like them, they make me-”

“Drowsy, yes, I know, but as I pointed out, Emma, they are sedatives, that’s their function. Sleep. When you’re rested you can think clearly about what you want to do. If you’re feeling strong enough then I suggest you talk to this Colton boy and tell him everything. You never know, Emma, it might make the difference. If you don’t want to, which I hope is not the case, then I want you to come see me on Thursdays as well, starting tomorrow. I’ll schedule you in and if I don’t see you I’ll assume you worked things out.”

I giggle at her reference to Colton as a boy and nod, knowing that she’s right.

“Good. Now go home before you pass out on my couch and follow doctor’s orders.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

Colton

I smile at the super, making a note to get his ass fired and practically fly up the stairs to Emma’s apartment, the thought of not getting in there before Buck gets back making my heart pound hard and fast.

I’ve been outside since she left work, my car having made it here long before her bus. I waited for a good two hours before I saw her exit a cab and run inside, the sight of her and not knowing where she was almost killing me until I remember that Buck made mention of her shrink the Saturday after our first date.

My hands shake as I fit the key into the lock but I get it open moments later and slip in quietly, the sound of the shower stalling me in my tracks. It shuts off just when I’m about to say fuck it and open the door and I step back, holding my breath when she comes out, swaying slightly on her feet.

She looks terrible. Beautiful yeah but her eyes have dark circles lining them and she’s dropped a pound or two I notice, hating that I am to blame.

I’ve called her nonstop for days and would have gone downstairs at some point if not for the fact that I don’t want to jeopardize her career by barging in and throwing her over my shoulder.

So I bided my time, knowing that it was just a matter of time. And maybe criminal trespass, I think, watching Emma pause at her bedroom door before turning and shuffling towards me.

She hasn’t seen me yet so I take the time to drink her in while she gets a glass of water and something out of the top cupboard. Its only when my eyes go back up that I see her tossing a pill into her mouth and drinking it down.

“Emma.”

She spits water everywhere and whirls around, dropping the glass with a scream.

“Stop! Don’t move,” I yell when she goes to step back, her unshod feet and all that glass making me frantic as I leap towards her and sweep her into my arms.

“What are you doing here?”

“You wouldn’t answer the phone and you ran after work.”

“I didn’t run! I had an appointment.” She sneers, struggling when I go for the front door instead of the living room. “What are you doing!”

Her words come out slurred and quiet and I stop for a second to look at her, the glassy look in her eyes making my chest ache.

“What did you take?”

“Sleeping pill. Need to sleep.” She slurs again, her head flopping down onto my shoulder.

“Sleep then, baby. We’ll talk in the morning,” I say, shifting her closer as I close the door and make my way to the stairs.

It would be easier to use the elevator but the thought of getting caught before I can talk to her has me taking the stairs two at a time and almost running for the car.

Once there, I adjust her on my lap and take out my phone, typing out a text to Buck in case he gets home early and starts to worry. I don’t even think about clothes or work because I don’t give a shit. I will personally call Mira in the morning because no way is Emma working until she’s in better shape.

The car ride is spent with me kissing her hair while she snores softly, her body so lifeless I’d panic if I couldn’t feel her breaths on me. I don’t even say hello to the doorman, just get us into the elevator and up to the apartment, not stopping until I have her in my bed and strip off to curl up against her.

It’s been over a week since I saw her, held her, knew that she was okay and I’ve been almost crazy the whole time. I haven’t slept since she left. All I could think about was her face, the pain in her eyes when she told me she hadn’t lied.

That made me stop, really stop, since the anger I felt that night, the night we made love, and I thought of every look, every touch we shared. It hit me like a bolt of lightning that Emma hadn’t lied. Her touch was unpracticed, hesitant in her innocence and so was the surprise I saw in her eyes when I slid into her.

I went crazy then and destroyed my office before Harley could get in to stop me because I knew, if I didn’t fix this I have lost her. I can’t lose her. I may not be capable of commitment or love but what I feel for her goes so far beyond what I ever thought was possible.

I need Emma. I need that love she yelled at me.

Knowing that she loves me was what finally got me to calm down and think and I knew that I had to do whatever I could to get her back. All I had after days of effort was this, breaking into her apartment to make her listen.

It’s worked out better than I hoped because this way I have her beside me while I have the first sleep I’ve had in days and we can talk alone without Buck threatening to kill me.

She sighs in her sleep and I pull her closer, closing my eyes tiredly. I want to sleep to escape what I feel for just a few hours but my mind keeps racing and making me think of things I don’t want in my head.

It’s not that I don’t want to love Emma. Heck if I could love anyone I think I would be a lucky bastard to have those feelings for this woman. She is sweet and smart and beautiful, and I feel like a possessive, obsessive asshole whenever I see her.

I want to protect her and have her by my side and be the man to help her spread her wings. I want to be the safety net she depends on and the reason she feels okay about going to parties and talking to people.

I want to be everything to her now that I know how she feels and, yeah, I believe it. Emma, the shy, unassuming woman I fell in lust with would never lie about something that important.

She’s told me things about herself that other people would balk at sharing so why wouldn’t I believe that she’s being honest. The truth is that it hit me so hard, hearing those words, that I couldn’t function for a few hours afterward.

At first I was angry, how dare she say that to me and expect me to believe it but after I pulled my head out of my ass, the relief and joy I felt were immense.

I’m an asshole for even thinking it but if Emma loves me then I stand a chance at getting her back. I should feel like shit for thinking that way because I know I don’t love her, not the way she needs me to, but I’m not noble enough to walk away and let her go so I revel in that chance and promise to give her as much happiness as I can.

You’d think that I’m an asshole, heartless and maybe you’d be right, but I can’t explain what having her love me makes me feel. I’ve never had love before, unless you count Harley, and even then our bond was formed more out of necessity and shared loneliness than anything else.

The fact that we’re still together years later attests to the friendship we’ve built over the years not some sappy definition of brotherly devotion. I mean, I love the guy in my own way, if I can even call what I feel love.

I haven’t loved anyone, though, not really. I learned early on that feeling anything for other people would only get me hurt, that expecting anything from anyone would lead to disappointment, so I focused on succeeding any way I could.

First it was hockey, my first real mistress and she served me well. It focused me, made me want more than to step into my father’s shoes one day to run his law firm.

When I lost that, I set myself the task of proving myself in business and I have been doing that ever since I spoke to my coach and knew that I wouldn’t ever go pro.

For years, I’ve been the ruthless Colton James who gave up the family empire to build something that meant something to me and didn’t come from my family.

I felt nothing when my parents died and even less when I refused my inheritance and watched it be torn apart and sold off for charity. For years I have lived with one driving force that never wavered; love means nothing.

My parents taught me that when I was a kid, never hugging me or paying any sort of attention to me unless I was impacting negatively on them. Growing up rich with everything I could ever want except a real, loving home was not easy and no, I don’t expect pity. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck.

At least I didn’t until a few days ago when I realized that I have nothing to offer Emma. I have no love. I’m not capable of feeling it so is it really possible to get her back and convince her to stay with me?

I can’t answer that but as I drift off with her in my arms, exhaustion finally winning the battle against my mind, I promise myself that I will do anything I can to keep her.