Reckless Abandon(100)

“You’ll lose even more if you do sign.”

Asher looks at me, finally looks at me for the first time since he walked into the apartment. The black folder of heinous accusation is still in his hand. He looks down at it and his mouth coils back as if his heart is sinking. “Emma, I . . . I don’t know how to trust.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

He walks toward me and then stops as if in fear or what he wants to do. His hands rise up in that way they do before his fingers find their most perfect spot on the sides of my head and slide into my hair. But they don’t do that. They just stop midair and then fall to the sides.

I look up into his mesmerizing honey-wheat eyes and watch the brown flecks disappear as despair settles over his face.

“Is that what you want, Emma? If you want me to give it up, I will. If you want me to keep my father’s name, I will. But if you want this world, I’ll sign. I can show you magnificent things. Together we can change the world. Imagine what we can do with all that money. Tell me what you want.”

Just tell him what I want.

What do I want?

It’s a lose-lose situation.

“I can’t answer that.” My hands tremble slightly at the position he is putting me in and the idea of what it means to our future. I hate Malory Dean but there is no denying she was right about one thing. “If I tell you to keep it, than you’ll always wonder if I love you for who you are or for the world I’ll inherit being with you. You’ll always wonder if Malory was telling the truth about me. And if I tell you to get rid of it, you’ll resent me for the life you’ll have to live in return.”

“I won’t resent you—”

“Yes, you will. You will because you want to keep it. You’ve had eighteen months to make this decision. If you wanted to honor your parents you would have done so a long time ago. The truth is you want to keep it and you’re looking for an excuse to do so. Whatever you choose, I can’t be your reason.”

What I want to tell him is to burn those papers. If he signs, he won’t be Alexander anymore. He’ll be Edward. The empire will be more important than anything in his life. This is what he was brought up to do. Slowly, the lessons he learned from his grandfather will take the forefront and my sweet Alexander will be gone.

And my love for him . . . he’ll always question it. Every time I enjoy a luxury of his lifestyle or spend a dollar, that little voice inside his head will always wonder if I am with him for the right reasons.

My suitcase is sitting by the door. I walk over to it and undo the zipper, pulling out a package I wrapped back in Cedar Ridge.

“Merry Christmas.” I say, handing him the gift.

“Its not Christmas yet.”

“I know, but I’m going back to Ohio.”

“Baby, no—”

I place my thumb on his lips, feeling the scruff on his jaw and halt his words from coming out. “You have to make a decision soon and I can’t be with you when you make it.”

I turn around and pull the handle on my suitcase up and tilt it toward me. He’s not moving so I think he understands why I have to turn away from him right now.

“Is there a possibility you won’t want me after I decide?” he asks, his voice nearly breaking.

My eyes close as the tears stream down my cheeks. I don’t turn around because I know what happens every time I look into his eyes, rabbit hole be damned.

“Come find me when you make your decision.”

Those are the last words I say before walking out that door and out of his life.





It’s been a month. An aching, antagonizing month.

When I got back to Cedar Ridge, flying commercial, my dad was at the airport with open arms. I didn’t want my parents to hate Alexander so I told them the story. I know it wasn’t my story to tell but they deserve to know why their daughter is upset. More importantly, I needed them to see this wasn’t breaking me like I was a year ago. My inner strength gives me the resiliency to stand tall, no matter what happens.

I spent the Christmas holiday with my parents and watched the snow fall over Cedar Ridge.

Every day I waited for my phone to ring.

It didn’t.

I waited for the knock on the door.

It didn’t come.

I waited for my bed to squeak.

It did, but only by me.

On January third, my family gathered at the cemetery.

I can’t believe my year from hell is over.

I made it.

In one year, I had (what I thought was a) heart-wrenching breakup with the man I thought I was going to marry. Now, I laugh at the idea I was ever upset about the douche with a flute.

In one year, I suffered the devastating loss of my baby brother. My soul still aches for him, but I cry less and I can now say his name out loud.

In one year, I am starting not to think of the accident as the day my dreams ended. They just changed. I still squeeze my palm and feel the burn tingle up my hand but it hurts less. The therapy I’ve been keeping up has helped a lot. I’ll never play professionally again. That still makes me sad. But I have found a love for teaching.

The day after Luke’s anniversary, I came back to New York. For the last few weeks I’ve been working hard. Classes resumed after the winter break. Crystal resumed her classes at night. Every day I open the door to my office and look for a rose tucked neatly in my notebook.