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Scandal by Nicole Elliot (60)

Chapter Thirty: Emilia

I wanted to call or text him every day.

I should never have said those things to him at the wedding. It wasn’t his fault I wanted to be with him. I still do.

I loved him so much it killed me so much more every day. And I think that’s why I couldn’t talk to him. I don’t deserve him. I blamed him when he didn’t even do anything wrong. I blamed him for loving me and after all he has been through, he definitely didn’t deserve that.

I buried myself in work and sometimes that made it worse.

I had referral sheets for every new client, to see where my marketing was going well, and they have all said Tristan Cox under family and friends. He was sending me so many clients, I had the upfront to get a new space and cater to the new clients, all because of him.

My shop was bigger, and while I still grew a lot of the flowers myself, I started outsourcing.

Ivy helped me a lot. She even quit her job to go into marketing and advertising, and I helped boost her resume by having her work for me.

She still loved fashion, but she loved the brains behind making it work even more. She wants to run her own runway shows one day. For now, she organizes everything but the flowers. I would welcome the distraction, but every time I look at a check book I think of Tristan and I burst into tears.

I had been crying a lot, I should have been out of tears by now. But I still cried myself to sleep every night. I’d wake up with swollen eyes and cry through breakfast because I see all of his missed calls. He hadn’t stopped calling.

When I answered that weird number, I heard his voice and freaked out. I couldn’t talk to him because I felt stupid.

I was stupid to think I could have him. I come home every night, saying we could be having dinner together. We could be sleeping in the same bed now, we could be having breakfast, fighting over the shower and then end up sharing before going off to work. Texting each other and falling more and more in love every day. I was stupid and I couldn’t face him.

So, I distracted myself with work and the business got bigger than I could have ever imagined, for that I was happy. I wanted to make my mother proud. I wanted to beg for Tristan’s forgiveness, but he was such a good man, I know he isn’t even angry. But he should be.

He never even left any angry voice mails.

Emilia, I just want to talk to you. Please call me back.

I want to know that you are doing okay. How are you? Call me back.

I miss you. And I still love you. We can still try and make this work.

Emilia, I’m sorry. Please call me back.

I still love you. I still want you.

Please, this doesn’t have to end.

He wasn’t mad. He was hurt. He doesn’t chase women, he was going against all his norms for me. I hated myself for driving him mad like this and I didn’t know how to fix it.

“Emilia, we have to be there in twenty minutes!”

Ivy had a key to my place and started letting herself in. I was going to an annual flower convention downtown. Its main purpose was to book companies like mine for different gigs. I hoped to build the clientele there, all the people Tristan sent me have started to die down.

“Coming!”

I covered my red eyes with eyeliner and fixed my dress. I forced myself to wear this bright green sundress when all I wanted was to wear sweats and eat ice cream. At first I ate a bunch of junk food, now I just ate little to nothing. My clothes were fitting looser. I remembered how much Tristan loved my body, he would barely recognize me now.

“Okay, let’s go.” Ivy eyed me warily. She knew I had been crying. She just knew me well.

She drove us down town and we started setting up. The tables were already there so we just decorated, she made a really nice table cloth with my logo on it. The business cards and portfolio were set out and we sat behind the table, watching the room fill up with other vendors.

“You were crying this morning.” She commented. I shrugged.

“Yeah. As usual.”

“Honey, why don’t you call him? He isn’t mad. You can fix this.” She clasped my hand.

I shook my head, taking a deep breath to keep from crying.

“I can’t. There is nothing I can do without making a fool of myself. Let’s just focus on this, please.”

She nodded. “The flowers will be here soon.”

I nodded. I checked the ad I had put out on Facebook. It got a lot of likes, so I felt a lot of people would show. But there was competition. Everyone in the room was just as good, if not better.

A few minutes later, a service trolley rolled in with a beautiful array of buttercups and baby’s breath. I smiled, my favorite. Then it headed right towards us.

“Are you Emilia Michelle?” The sweet old delivery man stopped in front of our table.

“Yes, but I ordered a tulip and rose arrangement.” It was my best arrangement, it always sold people on my work. But I didn’t order this.

“Well, I have your order here.” His graying brows rose as he handed me the tablet. Sure, enough the order was there with my name.

Ivy looked over my shoulder. “I made the order myself.” She said.

“It has this message with it.” The man leaned into one of the pots and handed me a card.

I opened the card.

Your mother would want you to be brave. You already have been, but now you need to take a chance. With me. Please call me. If you love me, you’ll call.

-Tristan.

My tears flowed hot and heavy. He was right. Mom would want me to go after love, and I did love him. I was barely aware of Ivy signing for the flowers and the delivery man leaving. I wiped my tears quickly so I could look more presentable.

“Let me see.” I gave the card to her.

She read it and smiled.

“See? The man loves you to death Emilia. Stop hurting him.” Ivy said sternly.” She was right. I shouldn’t hurt him anymore.

But I couldn’t leave the event.

“I’ll call him after. I swear.” She narrowed her eyes at me, but left me be.

The event went smoothly. I talked to so many people, and left with eleven new bookings, all spread out for the next four months. It was amazing. Ivy and I decided to do these events every four months.

“That was awesome.” She said as we packed up.

“You go call him! I’ll clean up.” I protested, but she held up her hand effectively stopped me.

I sighed, but stepped off to a quiet corner to call him. It only rang twice.

“Emilia?” I gasped at the sound of his voice. Deep and husky, but sad. It was all because of me.

“Hi, Tristan.” My voice croaked. I heard him inhale sharply on the other line. He was surprised. He thought I didn’t love him.

“You love me?” He breathed. I laughed through my hot tears.

“Yes. So much. Tristan, I am so sorry. For everything I said, I never meant to hurt you. And I did. I shouldn’t have blamed you.” I rambled.

I wished he were here to hold me. To wipe my tears away. But for now, I would settle for his voice falling over me. I had missed it so much. It wasn’t the same over voicemail.

“It’s okay baby doll, it’s in the past. I was never mad at you. I just wanted a chance.” He replied.

“I should have given you one. I was stupid. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad. I’m just glad you called.”

“You still love me?” I asked him. He chuckled softly.

“Are you kidding? Of course, I love you, always.”

“I—I want to see you.” I said.

“Come outside.”

“What?” I looked around. Was he here?

“Come outside.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. But I walked out through the back and crossed the alley way.

He was there, leaning against his car. I ran towards him like a mad woman, calling out his name until he saw me. He greeted me with that big, perfect smile of his. I collided into him, the warmth and hardness of his body meeting mine as he wrapped me in his arms. The smell of pine and soap invaded my senses, I had missed it so much. My hands were everywhere on him until they landed on his hair, latching him to me as he kissed me.

My soul relaxed as my body melted into his. I parted my lips, they moved with him in perfect unison. God, I missed him.

“How long have you been waiting?” I asked him.

“A few hours.” His green eyes smoldered into mine. It was everything I needed.

“You waited that long to see me?”

“Baby doll, I will always wait for you. Always.”

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