Page 37 of Freeing Emily
Ugh.
I don’t want to be with someonepleasant. I want to be with someone who lights a fire within me that is so bright, you can see it from outer space.
I want someone who needs me as much as I need them. Someone who takes the very breath from my lungs and breathes it back in.
Only that will never happen. Not for me.
I watch the city lights fly past my darkened window. My fingers wring anxiously with each passing mile.
“Why are you so fidgety?” Ryan says, startling me.
I flatten my palms on my knees and look over to him.
“Oh, I’m just excited for tonight.” My cheeks burn from how wide my fake smile is.
He studies my face – his completely emotionless - and then nods in satisfaction before turning his eyes to his phone again.
His lack of attention makes it much easier to hide how I’m truly feeling. I can play the pretty trophy on his arm if he wants me to. I can’t play the lovesick woman my dad thinks I’m going to be.
I could work harder to establish some kind of deeper connection, but I don’t want to. He also doesn’t seem to have much of an interest now that the arrangement is official.
The driver turns onto the private road toward the venue and my heart gallops in my chest.
It’s fine. Everything’s going to be. I’m fine.
My hand instinctually reaches up to wrap around the necklace I haven’t been able to take off.
I feel Ryan’s eyes on me and when I turn toward him, his stare is on my hand around the locket. It lingers for an uncomfortably silent moment before he meets my gaze.
I offer him a tight smile and then let my hand fall to my lap. My skin feels clammy, and I struggle to keep my breaths calm.
He continues to watch me, wordlessly.
Ryan has never asked me about the necklace, but he knows it’s different than the one I used to wear.
The car comes to a stop and Ryan’s door is opened by a young man in a black suit. Ryan clears his throat and then slides out. He holds his palm out for me to take and I do.
His skin lacks the rough texture of calluses that Liam has and another wave of sadness washes over me. I force the emotions down and smile up at Ryan as I slide out of the car.
He places a kiss on my temple and then positions his hand on the small of my back. Together, we stride inside the venue.
The ballroom is beautifully decorated with an array of white, gold, and black. A large crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the ceiling, giving the entire space a higher level of elegance. The women are dressed in floor-length gowns made of expensive fabrics. The men wear tailored black suits that either emphasize their muscular builds or large mid-sections. The staff wear white suits and carry silver trays of hors d'oeuvre or champagne.
Soft jazz music plays in the background amidst the quiet conversations and the clinking of glasses.
I discreetly scan the area for any sign of Liam and breathe a sigh of relief when I don’t see him.
A waiter walks up to us, and Ryan takes two glasses of champagne – offering me one.
“Thank you,” I say quietly with a dip of my chin. I sip on my drink; the crispness of the bubbles and the slight fruitiness help to distract my mind.
“Is everything okay?” Ryan asks, bringing the edge of his glass to his lips.
I look up into his eyes, which are filled with hesitant curiosity.
“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” I say with a slight raise of my brow.
He tips his head slightly and narrows his eyes.