“I f**ked up. I know. I should have told you sooner, but honestly I’d forgotten all about that video. Hell, I didn’t even think it still existed.”
Her gaze wandered from mine and she blinked back tears. I wanted to go to her, to hold her, to comfort her, but I’d lost that right, so I stood there like a useless sack of crap, wishing things could be different.
“In the third grade I had a French tutor named Collette. I used to pretend I needed extra help on my spelling tests so she’d lean over my desk and I could look down her shirt.”
Her eyes snapped to mine. “What?”
“Yeah. And when I was fourteen, my mom brought me to the Lincoln Center for the BCBG Max Azria show. I snuck backstage and peeked around a barrier and watched the models undressing in between their exits.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because. I never want to hide anything from you ever again. I’ve done things I’m not proud of—things I’d prefer stay in the past. I won’t let anything interfere with our future, so I’ll tell you anything and everything you want to know.”
“Ben, you don’t have to do that. I just . . .”
“What Emmy? Tell me how to fix this.”
“I can’t. I don’t know. You broke my trust.”
I took her hand. “Let me build it back.”
“Ready, darling?” My mom appeared beside us after returning from the restroom.
Emmy’s hand went limp in mine. “Yes, I’m ready to go home.”
I hated leaving things this way—so unfinished. My jaw tightened as I opened the door and helped my mom and Emmy inside the waiting car.
Emmy was silent and contemplative on the ride to Queens and I feared it was because there was nothing more to say.
When she exited the car, watching her turn her back and walk away was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Shielding herself against the snow, Emmy jogged up the front steps to her building and out of my life.
• • •
“You want me to do what?” Porter asked.
“I need your help with Emmy. I wouldn’t have come to you if I didn’t need you. But I do, man.”
Porter scrubbed his hands over his face. “I came to New York. I’m here. And I appreciate the airline ticket and hotel room, but I don’t know about the rest. Emmy makes up her own mind. I’ll talk to her, but she’ll have to decide what she wants.”
At Braydon’s suggestion of asking Emmy’s father for her hand in marriage, I’d gone a step further. I’d flown her whole family to New York City—the first time for all three of them—and put them up in a suite at the Waldorf Astoria. It was a little over the top for my tastes—too ornate—but I knew they’d appreciate staying at a historic New York landmark. Porter and I were currently having a beer at a bar around the corner from the hotel. He and I had some lost ground to make up since he’d caught me and Emmy in the act on her parents’ couch over Thanksgiving.
I knew in addition to speaking with her father—man to man—that I needed to win over her brother, too. He and I weren’t exactly on speaking terms, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. I couldn’t imagine any scenario where he didn’t want to punch me in the jaw.
“I want you to know I love your sister. I’m not giving her up. I’m never letting her go, and I give you my word that she’ll always be loved and taken care of.” I met his eyes, sincerity in my voice. I didn’t care that I probably sounded like the world’s biggest pu**y. I loved her with my whole being, and I’d do anything to get her back.
Porter swallowed a gulp of his beer and released a deep sigh.
Her dad was a piece of cake compared to Porter. When I’d taken him and Sue to lunch yesterday, he’d been unsure at first, saying it was up to Emmy, but he wouldn’t stand in the way of her happiness. After lunch, he’d shaken my hand, clapped me on the back, and said as long as I promised to love her and care for her the way she deserved, then the past was in the past and he’d happily give me his blessing to ask her. Porter on the other hand was less than forgiving. Whereas Emmy’s parents had hints only of my past indiscretions, Porter had come right out and asked me about the tape. I thought I’d dodged the bullet well, telling him it was a one-time mistake and I’d been told the video had been destroyed.
Porter’s eyes followed the backside of a passing waitress. “Are we done here?”
“Actually I was hoping you could help me arrange something else.”
His eyes flickered back to mine with interest.
20
Emmy
Pulling on a pair of cream-colored wool tights and a soft gray knit dress, I checked myself in the mirror one last time. I looked tired. My curled hair and mascaraed lashes couldn’t hide the fact that I was miserable without Ben. My skin was pale and my expression was sullen. Oh well. It would have to do.
Ellie had succeeded in talking me into meeting her for a Christmas Eve drink in Manhattan. She promised me it would be relaxed and low key and said that the little twinkling white lights and Christmas decorations would lift my spirits. Either that or the rum-spiked eggnog would.
I was making an effort, just like I’d promised her I would. And I was trying, I really was. I’d been showering regularly and had been eating better, too. On the outside I appeared to be healing. But since seeing Ben randomly on the Upper East Side last week, my foolish heart latched onto how sweet and attentive he’d been, how sad and miserable he’d looked without me, the dark circles under his eyes indicating a lack of sleep. It tugged on my heart. But I was being strong. Even if it meant I had to give myself daily pep talks and cry myself to sleep each night.