Page 75 of Your Rule to Break
What the fuck?
“Not a good time. Can you come back a little later?” Zack asks, almost laughing.
“No, not really. It’s Eliza. She needs Emilie. Now.”
Something inside me runs cold. I can’t remember the last time Eliza has ever asked me for something, needed me.
Zack senses our time is up, puts his belt back on, and pulls my dress down. He grabs my hips and helps me stand, my arms practically mush at this point.
“I’ll be out in a second,” I yell out to Mitch.
Zack gives me a quick kiss. “Don’t rush. Do whatever you have to do.”
Part of me melts in that moment, for just a second, until I’m out the door, following Mitch to their room.
Chapter 39
Emilie
“She locked herself inthe bathroom. I can hear her crying but she won’t open up. She’s been asking for you.” Mitch is trying to explain what’s going on but I still don’t get it.
“She asked for me, by name? Or did she ask for someone?” I look at him as we’re practically jogging.
“I tried asking if she wanted any of her bridesmaids or friends here, and she basically screamed to get you and only you.”
My heart hurts. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I feel like it must be bad for her to call for me like that.
I try to get a good look at Mitch. In the moonlight, he looks sober—put together—and like he’s on a mission.
“Did you do something you want to own up to?” I ask.
Mitch stops. “No. Absolutely not. You might think I’m scum but believe it or not, I love her. I want to marry her. I didn’t do anything.” He’s pleading, his hand on his heart as his voice cracks.
“I believe you.”
And I do. I can’t recall a time when Mitch was this emotional.
We’re walking inside their Villa—this is not a room and makes our upgrade look puny. It’s like the top floor of an apartment, with multiple rooms, sitting areas, and a private swim out pool.
“She’s in there.” He gestures to the closed door in the hallway. “I’m going out on the balcony. Give the two of you some space.” Mitch walks with his head down and arms crossed.
Fuck. I actually feel bad for him.
I take a deep breath, make sure my hair isn’t wild from the light jog or the balcony activities a few minutes ago, and knock lightly on the door.
“It’s me. Emilie,” I say in a soft voice.
Eliza rustles on the other side, getting up and coming to the door. She swings it open, and my heart cracks right in two. Her eyes are puffy and swollen from crying but are blown out with fear. Black streaks paint her cheeks, and her lips look raw—maybe from biting them? She doesn’t say a word but pulls me in and closes the door behind us.
I don’t say anything. Instead, I grab a washcloth and wet it with warm water. I sit her down on the floor, kneeling to start cleaning her up. The second the wet washcloth touches her skin, silent tears start to fall. When the makeup is gone, I’m the first one to speak.
“What’s the matter?” I grab both of her hands with mine, squeezing hard.
She squeezes back.
“You can tell me. I’ll help you as much as I can.”
“I keep thinking of these horrible things. These situations. Hypotheticals. Things that could happen. I can’t get myself to stop, and it feels like it’s killing me.” She pulls a hand away to touch her chest. “My heart was racing so fast that I passed out in here. It was just for a second, and I was already going to sit down. But it’s like my mind won’t quit showing me nightmares, but I’m awake.”