Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
"No," Ryker answers.
Then how does he know?
"I told her," he confesses. "When were in Zurich, after you came back from Uetliberg, she was waiting outside your room and I realized how much she cared for you. But I knew you didn't care for her, so..."
"How did you know?"
"Because you said so yourself. You said you weren't in love with her. But she seemed to be in love with you, so I thought it was better for her to stay away from you."
"And you told her that?"
"Yes."
I bite my lower lip and give him a disapproving look. "I should have punched you instead of Asher."
"Ooh. I would have liked to see that," Asher says.
He offers me a glass of Scotch. I'm confused.
"I thought you didn't want me to drink."
"I think one more glass is fine," he says. "You seem like you need it."
I take the glass. Does this mean he forgives me for punching him?
He sits beside me and gulps down his own. Ryker sits across from me.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize how much she meant to you."
"I didn't realize it either," I admit. "And now it's too late."
"No, it's not," Asher says. "You realize you love her now, right?"
I suppose I do. Maybe I always have. I just thought it wasn't right because I was her boss, so I pushed it away and concealed it under so many emotions that I ended up getting confused. I tried to dilute it and pass it off as other things - friendship, pity, lust, trying to do what was best for her. But all that is part of love. I know that now.
That doesn't mean it's easy for me to say it out loud.
"Just go and tell her that," Asher says. "Tell her you're sorry for being a jerk and tell her you love her."
"And if she doesn't believe you, tell her to give you a chance to prove it," Ryker says. "And then do that."
I look at both of them with furrowed eyebrows. "Have either of you been in love before?"
Because they're suddenly talking like they're experts.
"Who cares?" Asher says. "We both just want the best for our brother."
That's one of the nicest things he's ever said to me.
"So you think it's alright for me to be with her even though I'm her boss?"
"Well, technically, you're not her boss anymore," Ryker says.
True.
"Who cares what you are or what she is?" Asher says. "What matters is how the two of you feel about each other."
I guess that's true. In the end, it doesn't matter whether we're rich or poor or what the color of our skin is or what we do for a living. We're all humans who need and deserve love. I know Stella and I do.
Asher pats my back. "Go get her."
I put my glass down without taking a sip. I don't need the alcohol anymore. I have all the courage I need, thanks to these two who have always been by my side and who are clearly no longer kids for me to look after. In the future, maybe I'll confide in them just a little more.
I look at them both and nod. "I will."
I'm going to take Stella back no matter what the cost.
Chapter Twenty-One
Stella
"That will be fifty-eight dollars and forty-nine cents," the pharmacist behind the counter tells me.
My eyes grow wide. Nearly sixty bucks for a bottle of pain relievers, a tiny tube of pimple cream and a few bottles of water?
I only have a fifty-dollar bill in my hand, so I quickly search my purse for a ten. I know I have one somewhere. Where is it again?
I was hoping my headaches and dizzy spells would just go away. I thought that time I nearly fainted on the front porch of my old house would be the last episode. The person who helped me - she lived across the street - was a nurse who just told me to take iron supplements. I did, and for a day, I was fine. But last night, I felt dizzy again, nauseous even. This morning, I woke up with a headache. It's not that painful but it's literally at the back of my head, nagging at me. Also, I had no appetite this morning, and to make matters worse, when I looked in the mirror, I realized I had a pimple on my forehead. What the hell?
The pharmacist clears her throat. I give up on finding that ten-dollar bill, though I'm sure I have one, and hand her my credit card. As she processes my payment, my gaze falls on the pregnancy test just beneath the glass on the counter.
The question pops into my head: What if I'm pregnant?
Ethan and I didn't use any protection. And yes, I was the one who decided that the first time we had sex because I thought I'd just finished my period and I was safe. Now that I'm making a quick calculation, though, I'm realizing that my period had already been over five days before that.