Hudson(103)

But not today. I can’t yet. I’m not ready.

I send her a text of my own because I love her, and I can’t bear to leave her hanging any longer. I’m not mad. I’m not avoiding you. I don’t know what to say.

I don’t know what to say. How true is that? So goddamned true.

Don’t say anything. Just come home.

I choke on a caustic laugh. For the second time in twenty-four hours, I’ve engaged when I shouldn’t have. Now I have to draw this out, repeating words she can’t understand. I can’t. Not yet. We need time.

I don’t need time. I need you.

Fuck, how I need her. She has no idea. We’ll talk later.

You don’t understand. I have to talk now. I’ll keep texting you. I can’t help myself.

And I’ll read every one. But she doesn’t send anything after that, and I’m disappointed. More than disappointed. I’m shattered. Her brief words were keeping me afloat. Her absence from my phone makes me worry. Did something happen? And I think the worst—that her life can go on without me. My life, on the other hand, is at a f**king standstill.

I check in with Jordan and learn she’s convinced him to join her for a run. I’d forbidden her from running outdoors, concerned about Celia and her stalking. She’s defying my wishes—can I blame her?—but at least she’s taken her bodyguard. At least she still cares enough about me to compromise. If only there was a way I could compromise with her. I’d give her anything she wanted, tell her every secret from my past, break down every last standing wall, as long as she could tell me she’d never leave me. That she wouldn’t give up on us.

And she’d say that she wouldn’t. She’d promise me forever.

But I won’t let her make that promise. If she found out what I’ve done, she wouldn’t be able to keep it.

***

My phone rings in the middle of the night. In a state of half-sleep, I reach toward the coffee table where I’d left it before settling down on the couch. Then I stop myself. It’s probably Alayna—and God, how I want it to be her—but I don’t have the strength to deny her right now. Not in the dark hours of the night when I want her so desperately that I’ll say and do anything to have her.

I sit up and scrub my hands over my face. I’m awake now. Actually, I’m surprised I slept at all. I look at the time. It’s almost three. I guess I slept more than I thought. I’d gotten in around midnight. As I’d said I would, I’d gone to the charity ball with Norma and even managed to chat up Stuart Reed. I think I did my job of convincing him that Werner Media was a good investment, but before I had a chance to confirm it, I’d gotten a text from Reynold, Alayna’s second shift bodyguard, telling me that not only was Celia at The Sky Launch, but that Alayna had dismissed him for the night.

Needless to say, I was furious. And worried as hell.

I grabbed Norma, and we took off for the club. Unsafe as it was to drive under emotional duress and talk on the phone, I called Alayna anyway. I kept her on the phone until I arrived at the curb outside. With my own eyes, I saw Celia leave. Alayna was safe, thank God. But she’d seen me—seen me with Norma, dressed up for a night out.

How do I only seem to dig myself deeper? Of course, that’s why she wants to talk to me. I should explain. The deal is so close to coming to fruition, maybe that’s one thing I can share with Alayna. But if Celia has Alayna tapped or bugged…I can’t risk Celia finding out about this before it happens.

So I’ll have to keep this silent too.

My phone starts ringing again, and it takes everything I have not to pick it up and chuck it across the room. Possibly the thing that stops me is realizing that the screen isn’t flashing Alayna’s name; it’s flashing Adam’s.

My heart is in my throat when I answer. “Adam?” I don’t wait for him to answer. “What’s wrong? Is it Mirabelle?”

“She’s having contractions,” he says. “We’re at Lennox Hill.”

“The baby?” It’s too familiar—this unknowing ache. A fragile being that I’ve yet to meet but already care so much for. And that it’s Mirabelle…this can’t happen. I can’t bear it if this happens. Not to her.

Adam’s voice is tight. “We don’t know yet. God, we don’t know anything yet.”

“I’ll be right there.” I hang up and don’t give it a second thought before texting Jordan. Then I push the top number on my speed dial list. “Alayna. I need you.”

“What is it?” Three short words, but her love and care are evident.

“Mira. At the hospital. The baby…” I choke up, unable to say more.

“I’ll be right there.”

“Jordan’s already on his way to get you.” I hold the phone to my chest for several minutes after she hangs up. This may be as close to holding her as I get tonight, and I cherish it.

At the hospital, Adam texts that Mirabelle’s been moved to the obstetrics ward, but I wait for Alayna before going up there. I can’t see my sister like this. I’m weak. I’m a mess. I need my strength.

Then, there it is—my strength. Alayna walks in wearing yoga pants and a T-shirt, and she’s more beautiful than anyone I’ve ever seen. My pulse slows ever so slightly, and air seems to finally move through my lungs better than it had just a moment before. She does this for me. She gives and gives, without knowing, even when I distance myself from her. Even when I’ve wounded her, she’s here to repair me.