Chapter 93

[ 1,038 words ]

Emilia’s POV

Sebastian looked ridiculously pleased with himself, striding through the mall like he’d just won some award. His face practically glowed with that stupid sense of accomplishment. He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the racks like a kid in a candy store.

“What about this one?” he asked, holding up a blue dress.

“Sure,” I said.

“And this one?”

“Sure.”

“This one looks good. The color suits you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He stopped and frowned at me. “Can you say something else?”

I shrugged. “I’m fine with everything.”

“Come on. You have to have an opinion.”

“I don’t have one. As long as you like it.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s not how this works. You’re the one wearing it. You have to like it too. We argue about everything—how am I supposed to know if you actually like this or not?”

“Then I’ll like it.”

He stared at me for a second, then his expression softened into concern. “Are you okay? If you’re not feeling well, we can go back to the hotel.”

“I’m fine.”

I said I was fine. But I wasn’t. Not because of the elevator—that part had actually been manageable. No, the problem was that in the middle of conquering my fear, I’d lost control of something else entirely.

My stupid heart.

I might have fallen for him. Right there in that metal box. And I had no idea what to do with that information.

“Pack these up,” Sebastian said to the assistant, handing over several outfits. He turned back to me. “Want anything else?”

“No, that’s enough.”

“Alright. Let’s head back.”

When we got back to the hotel, Marcus and the others were drinking in the lobby. They waved us over the moment they saw us.

Sebastian started toward them, but I tugged at his sleeve. “I’m going to rest.”

He paused, then nodded. “I’ll call you for lunch.”

“Don’t bother. I want to sleep longer.”

“Suit yourself.”

I turned and walked away. A few steps later, his voice stopped me.

“Hey.”

I looked back. “What?”

He raised a hand and clenched his fist. “You were brave today.”

My heart did a stupid flip.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

And I meant it. I’d never thanked anyone that sincerely before. Least of all someone who’d once hurt me.

I went back to my room, changed, and fell into bed. Sleep came fast. So did the dream.

My mother was standing in front of me, her face twisted with anger.

“Emilia, did you fall in love with a man?”

I knew my answer would hurt her. But I couldn’t lie. “…A little.”

Her face darkened. “You disappoint me. How could you forget my warning? Have you forgotten how I died? Have you forgotten what you promised me?”

“Mom, I haven’t forgotten. But not all men are like Dad.”

“They’re all the same. If you won’t listen to me, then you’re on your own.”

She started to fade. I reached for her, but my hands grabbed nothing. Her disappointed eyes burned into me.

“Mom… Mom…”

I woke up gasping.

Silence. Just the hum of the air conditioner.

I sat up and wiped the tears from my cheeks. Her voice was still echoing in my head.

I remembered it clearly. Her last days. She was sick in bed, but she’d held my hand with all the strength she had left.

“Emilia, listen to me. Love is a tumor. A malignant one. You have to cut it out before it destroys you. Or it will spread, and it will kill you.”

I’d promised her. I’d promised I would never let myself fall.

And now look at me.

My phone rang, yanking me out of my thoughts. I pressed answer without checking the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey, darling. Where are you?”

Lily. She always called me “darling” when she was in a good mood.

“Just resting. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just wanted to check on my favorite emotionally constipated friend.”

I snorted. “Very funny.”

“Okay, okay. Seriously though. Are you free this Friday?”

“What’s happening Friday?”

“The company’s organizing an event. A summer thing. They’re inviting some people from the university.”

I sighed. “Let me guess. Scott’s idea.”

She hesitated. “Yes and no…”

“Is it or isn’t it?”

“What difference does it make?”

“It makes a lot of difference. If it’s him, I’m not going.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like someone else, Lily. And I don’t want Scott wasting any more time on me.”

“Wait, what?” Her voice shot up. “You like someone? Don’t tell me it’s that psycho Sebastian Simons.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Everything! You’d pick him over Scott? Scott is sweet, gentle, and he actually respects women. Sebastian’s a walking red flag factory!”

“He’s not that bad.”

“You’re defending him. Oh my God, you’ve lost your mind.”

“Maybe I have.” I rubbed my temples. “Look, Lily, I appreciate you looking out for me. But I don’t want to lead Scott on. If you like him, you should tell him.”

“Me? Like him? That’s not—I’m just trying to help you!”

“Mhmm. Sure.”

“Emilia!”

“Lily.”

She groaned. “You’re impossible. Fine. But you’re telling me everything later. Dinner. Your treat.”

“Deal.”

I hung up, feeling a little lighter. But only a little.

Someone knocked on the door.

I opened it to find Sebastian standing there, looking annoyed.

“Did you rest well? Let’s go.”

“Go home?”

“Obviously.”

“Yeah. Give me five minutes.”

I grabbed my stuff and followed him out. When we got in the car, I remembered Leighton had taken my ID card. I pulled out my phone and shot a quick message to Richie.

“Uncle Richie, Leighton has my ID. Can you bring it next time you’re in Silverlake City?”

“Okay,” he replied.

I put my phone away and stared out the window.

“You’re hungry, right? I got you something.”

Sebastian reached into the back seat and pulled out a bag. He tossed it into my lap. Inside was a bunch of food.

I blinked. Then I pulled out a yogurt, took a sip, and decided to poke the bear.

“So,” I said casually. “You’re being really nice to me all of a sudden. What’s the matter? You fall in love with me or something?”

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