I love you.
A burst of laughter from the main room shattered the spell. My face darkened when I looked over her shoulder and l saw the guy she’d arrived with joking with the server.
Violence pulsed through me at the thought of him touching Stella. Holding her, making her laugh.
I had never hated anyone more.
Stella must’ve picked up on the glint in my eyes because she followed my gaze and paled.
I walked down the hall, intent on leaving before I gave in to the urge to touch her. She stopped me with a low warning on my way past.
“If anything happens to him, I’ll never forgive you.”
The only words she’d spoken to me after our breakup, and they were to save another man.
A muscle in my jaw flexed before I walked past her and out the door.
Coldness invaded my chest.
Just when I thought I’d experienced all the ways a heart could break, she proved me wrong.
* * *
STELLA
I sagged with equal parts relief and disappointment after Christian left.
I told myself I’d gone into the hall to return a call, but I could’ve done that outside the bar. The truth was, I’d wanted that passing interaction with him, and I hated myself for it.
After two weeks, my bright burst of anger had faded into a deep, ceaseless ache.
I hadn’t forgiven him, but I missed him so much it was hard to breathe.
Ironically, the rest of my life was on an upswing after our breakup. It was like now that my love life was in shambles, the universe was working overtime to make it up to me in other areas.
The Delamonte print campaign and Washington Weekly profile had opened a new flood of opportunities, as expected. Luisa was ecstatic about how the partnership was going. Maura hadn’t had any issues since her sedation, the stalker hadn’t made a reappearance, and my blog and social media were thriving. I hadn’t publicly announced my breakup with Christian, but I wasn’t posting about him anymore. That hadn’t hurt my engagement as much as I’d thought, though I didn’t care much either way.
I’d also started reaching out to local boutiques about my collection. In fact, I was here celebrating with Brady because one of them finally agreed to carry a few test pieces.
Overall, my life was going great…except for Christian and my family.
Speaking of which…
I took a deep breath and refocused on the reason I’d excused myself from Brady. A quick glance told me he was still talking to the server and that Christian was nowhere in sight.
Maybe I was being paranoid, but I could’ve sworn there’d been a moment when Christian had looked at him like he was capable of murdering him.
I dialed the number from my latest missed call and tried to unknot my nerves while the phone rang.
She picked up on the third ring.
“Hi, Stella.”
“Hi, Mom.”
It was the first time we’d spoken since our family dinner in April.
Four months.
It was the longest we’d gone without contact, and hearing her voice again caused a lump to form in my throat.
I’d had my reasons for lashing out the way I had during the dinner, but she was still my mom.
“How are you?” A rare thread of hesitation ran beneath her voice.
“I’m okay.” I twisted my necklace around my finger. “Sorry I missed your call. I’m out with a friend and I didn’t see it earlier.”
“That’s okay. It’s nothing important.” She cleared her throat. “I read your Washington Weekly profile. It’s a great piece, and your Delamonte photos are beautiful.”
All the air left my lungs. Of all the things I’d expected her to say, that hadn’t even been in the realm of possibility.
“Really?” I asked in a small voice.
My confidence had grown over the past few months, but there would always be a little girl inside me that wanted nothing more than her parents’ approval.
“Natalia said you and Dad were upset about the photos.”
My last conversation with my sister still left a bitter taste in my mouth.
“Well, we would’ve preferred it if you’d worn more clothes,” my mother said dryly. “But we were more shocked than upset. The profile, however…I had no idea you’d accomplished so much with your blog, or that you felt so strongly about fashion starting at such a young age.”
I didn’t point out that was something I’d been trying to tell her since I was in middle school. I didn’t want to start another argument.
“Is the profile the only reason you called?” I wouldn’t be surprised. My parents loved anything that made the family look good. “We haven’t talked in months.”
My mother was quiet for a minute. “Everyone’s emotions were running high after the dinner,” she finally said. “After things calmed, I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear from us. You always call, and when you didn’t…you were so upset…”
You always call.
Translation: I always apologized first.