She scrolled through the other texts between him and Cristina. There were tons. All were harmless about her kids and more stuff he and Emi never talked about: insurance policies, the construction she was having done at her home. Then her eyes stopped at one. It was a response from Sydney to Cristina.
You’re an amazing woman. I know you know this. You have to.
Emi nearly dropped the phone when it suddenly rang in her hand. The screen switched from the text she was reading to the pop-up of who was calling.
Cristina.
Sydney walked into the room and slowed when he saw her holding it. She held it out to him. “It’s Cristina.”
He took it without comment. “Hey,” he answered. “Yeah, hold on.”
Their eyes met for one fleeting moment, and if she weren’t mistaken, he still looked irritated. Without saying anything, he started to the door. Apparently, he didn’t want to have this conversation in front of her either. A sudden dread overwhelmed her as she watched him leave the room. No way was she keeping this in anymore. She had to confront him—find out what the hell was going on between him and Cristina.
But what if he admitted it? What if this was her worst nightmare come to life? What if the novelty of being with Emi had worn out? What if, after being with her, getting the physical need out of his system, the one he said had begun to feel like an obsession, he realized that’s all she had to offer him? Realized that someone more his age and with more experience in everything, like Cristina, was far more mentally stimulating and compatible for him?
Was it possible this business trip he was taking was actually a getaway with Cristina? You’re an amazing woman.
“No!” Emi shook her head, feeling the hot tears well up in her eyes. “He wouldn’t do that.”
She rushed to the door, remembering that very first time she’d snapped at him, way back when she’d thought he was judging her for dating two guys at once. “I don’t do that.”
He’d been adamant about that. He didn’t even see someone on the side when he was just dating someone. Cheryl had been a woman he said he broke things off with because he’d never felt anything for her. Even then he said it felt wrong to lead her on. Sydney was in love with Emi. Despite all her stupid insecurities, she knew this for a fact. She saw it in his eyes, felt it in his kisses and when he made love to her. It was undeniable. His love for her was as palpable as Emi’s was for him.
Rushing to the door even as the tears started streaming down her face, she was determined to get to the bottom of this. There had to be a valid explanation. To her surprise, the apartment was empty. She glanced around and even walked out onto his balcony. He’d left the apartment for even more privacy? His keys and wallet were still on the counter, so he couldn’t have gone far.
Emi scuttled back into the bedroom and picked up her phone. She hit speed dial, swatting the tears away. Her call went straight to voicemail, and an auto response text popped up on her screen, saying Sydney was unavailable and to call his secretary if it was urgent.
She was overcome with the sudden urge to fling her phone across the bedroom, but she threw it on the bed instead. Remembering the damn final she had today had her looking down at the screen at the time. She wondered now if she should just skip it. This felt a million times more important. So the work she’d put in all summer would be all for nothing. If her heart wasn’t already aching, that might feel a little more devastating.
But this could be nothing. She still held out the tiniest bit of hope that this was all just a misunderstanding. What if he got back, explained himself, made her feel incredibly stupid for jumping to such unthinkable conclusions? She’d flunk her summer course for nothing.
Since she had to wait for him to get back anyway and there was no telling when that would be, she decided to jump in the shower. Once in there, the flood gates opened. She had to let it out, crying openly, though she kept it as quiet as possible, but she needed to. She’d be a mess when she finally confronted him, and she wanted to have at least a little composure.
In there much longer than she anticipated, she finally was able to calm herself and step out of the bathroom, a little put together. She’d expected to see him in the bedroom, getting things ready for his business trip. The very thought sickened her. But he wasn’t there.
Surprised, she threw on a pair of panties and one of his T-shirts that hung from the bedpost. The smell of him alone was enough to get the tears going again. She hurried out into the front room, but he wasn’t there either. Could he still be on the phone? Then she saw it—the bare kitchen counter. His keys and wallet were gone now.
This only panicked her further, and now her heart pounded. That tiny bit of hope she’d held out that maybe she was just being paranoid was crushed. He left without saying good-bye?
Hurrying back into her room, she made a beeline straight to her phone on her bed, the flicker of hope staying alive when she saw the message indicator flashing. The flicker got stronger when she saw the text from Sydney or rather “My Sweetheart.”
Sorry I couldn’t wait for you to get out of the shower. I had to go. I’ll call you later.
Hitting send immediately, Emi felt the boulder at her throat again. The text was far from hopeful or even satisfying. Zero emotion was expressed in it. No “I love you” or even “I miss you” as he usually included in just about any message he ever sent her. Once again, the call went to his voicemail, shooting her another instant auto response text.
This time she did what she’d felt like doing all morning and stomped her feet like a child, letting out an exasperated groan that turned into a screech before sending off her text to him.
ANSWER YOUR PHONE! WE NEED TO TALK!
She gave it a few minutes then tried again only to get his voicemail and the stupid auto response text again. The anxiety she was feeling now that this was actually happening was too much to bear.
The text she’d begun to write him was getting too long. She wanted him to know exactly what was going on in her head. Hear what she was feeling even if it meant leaving him a blubbering voicemail with all her ridiculous theories. If she was wrong—completely off—he’d call her immediately and clear things up, at the very least respond with a text assuring her she was wrong and he loved her as she did him. That everything would be okay and they’d be together forever like he’d been promising her from the moment they declared their love for one another.
So she called and waited for the inevitable to happen. When it did, she cleared her throat, though there’d be no hiding her crying.
“Sydney, we need to talk. I need to know what’s going on with you. I know it wasn’t Braydon who called you last night. I know it was Cristina.” She paused to take a trembling breath. “I know you deleted a text from her last night and that you talk and text her way more than I ever imagined. Please tell me it’s not what I’m thinking.” Her voice broke, and she took a few deep breaths to try and get herself together again. “Please tell me nothing is going on between you and her. My heart is completely breaking. Please call me.”
She hung up and lay down on his bed, feeling numb. This wasn’t happening. With the phone at her chest, she lay there for minutes, the sniffling turning into crying the longer the time passed and no call or response came from Sydney. A sudden ping made her flinch and gasp as she looked down and saw she had a text from him. As much as she’d been praying even as she cried that she’d hear back from him, she was terrified to read his text now. But she took a deep breath and clicked on the envelope. The short length of it was enough to break her heart before she even read it. Then she did.
You’re right. We need to talk. But I can’t now. I’ll call you later.
It was like a stab through the heart. The pain was that unbearable. He may as well have said she was right about everything else too.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sydney
There wasn’t a single gut-wrenching emotion Sydney hadn’t experienced in the last two days: guilt, anger, heartach
e, confusion, utter despair, and now a strange numbness—but above all guilt. The only thing that helped him trounce it—a little—was that he knew he was doing the right thing. He had to. Emi didn’t deserve this.
Her heart would be broken, but she was young. In time, she’d get over him and move on. A girl like Emi would have many prospects waiting for a chance with her. She already had one good one. He was counting on remembering that when he spoke with her today. So he’d stay strong and not give into the guilt.
The tears would be inevitable. He’d been preparing himself for them by listening to her messages these past few days. She’d had two days to let it sink in. Two days to accept it. By the time he spoke with her today, she’d likely be past the heartache and have moved on to the anger. At least he’d been hoping that when he’d decided to not return any of her phone calls. In the last voicemail he’d gotten from her, she sounded beyond enraged.
Judging by all the other calls he’d gotten, she knew now. All she needed was to hear it from him. Let him have it. Then it would be over.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Emilia
Two entire days passed after the only text Sydney had bothered to send Emi and no call—not that day or the next. Emi had done so much crying she didn’t understand how she could still have any tears left. But she did. She had plenty.
All she kept thinking was how could this be? How could he be so cruel so out of the blue? After reading the stupid auto response so many times, she did just what it said to do. She called his secretary. Emi already knew. The text Sydney had sent was clear enough. She just didn’t understand how it could be true. And yet hearing it from his secretary had still been earth-shattering.
Emi wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. Maybe it was because, even after all the facts she’d gathered in the past forty-eight hours, she still didn’t believe it. Until she heard it directly from him, her heart refused to.
The conversations she’d had in the past two days with key people in Sydney’s life played out in her head over and over. First his secretary.
“4B Global. You’ve reached the office of Sydney Maricopa. This is Kendra speaking. May I ask who’s calling?”
“Emi,” she’d managed to whisper. “I’ve been trying to reach him on the phone and haven’t been able to. It’s urgent that I speak with him.”
“I’m afraid Mr. Maricopa will be out of the office for a few days, but I can see that your message gets to him as soon as possible.”
“Is there any way to reach him where he’s at?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“You mean to tell me there are no phones where his meeting is?”
“No ma’am. Mr. Maricopa is not in a meeting. He’s taking a few personal days off. But I’d be happy to take a mess—”
“Personal days?” Emi’s heart nearly stopped. “Did he say for what?”
Even as prepared as she thought she’d been, it was still a slap in the face. Emi had practically crushed her phone in her hand as the secretary had once again regretfully informed her she wasn’t at liberty to say why he’d taken the personal time off.
Emi didn’t even remember if she’d said good-bye before hanging up. It was at that point that the festering anger began to bubble over. The resentment from what he was putting her through had begun to replace the heartache and taken front and center. She welcomed the anger; it was much easier to deal with than the pain. Though her emotions had since gone back and forth as the whole nightmare played out.
Not ten minutes after getting off the phone with Sydney’s secretary, Emi had scrolled through her phone furiously and called Sarah. “Have you heard from Sydney?”
Sarah had been quiet at first, giving Emi hope she might have. It turned out it just took Sarah that long to figure out who she was speaking to. “Um, no,” she said, deflating Emi’s hope instantly. “Not since last week. Why? What’s going on?”
“Has he ever mentioned anything to you about him and Cristina?” Infuriatingly, her voice had broken from just saying her name.
“Cristina?” Sarah asked, sounding confused and a bit alarmed.
“Yes,” Emi’s voice squeaked. “Mando’s widow. I think he’s having an affair with her.”
Emi had gone on to explain first through helpless tears, but soon she was spitting out the angry words about Sydney’s lying. How he said he was going on a business trip but she now knew there was no such business trip. The texts and call logs she’d found between him and Cristina. How, for weeks, she’d thought maybe she was just being paranoid and what his response was when she left the voicemail calling him out on it.
“It’s the only response I’ve had from him since he left yesterday morning. He’s ignored all my other calls and texts.”
Sarah had been stunned silent for a moment; then she finally spoke. “I don’t even know what to say except that’s so not like him. Emi, I’ve known him almost my whole life, and I can tell you with all certainty I’ve never known him to be a cheater or condone cheating. Most importantly, I’ve never seen him or heard him so happy since the two of you got together.”
“Do you have Cristina’s phone number?”
“I don’t think so, but I could get it.”
“Can you please?” Once again she’d turned into a blubbering mess. “And maybe call him or text him. He might answer your calls. Tell him I desperately need to talk to him.”
“I will,” Sarah said quickly. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry this is happening. Please stay strong. Sydney’s a good guy. I just can’t imagine him doing something so hurtful.”
“I can’t either,” Emi said, sniffling as the pesky hope lingered in her heart again just hearing Sarah—the only other person that knew Sydney as well as she did—wasn’t buying this either.
Sarah had called back a few minutes later only to tell her Sydney hadn’t answered her calls either. “I texted him too. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from him. But I did get Cristina’s number.”
Of course, Cristina hadn’t answered either, and Emi hadn’t left any voicemails, nor had she texted her. It was morning three and Emi felt like a zombie. Her throat was raw, her stomach rumbled from lack of food, but the last thing she could think about was eating anything, and she was completely sleep-deprived. The only other person whom she’d spoken to throughout this was Livi. She’d made her promise, even throughout all the sobbing, to please not tell her brothers what was going on. Emi knew they hadn’t been thrilled about the idea of her and Sydney to begin with. They were skeptical about the age difference but had eventually given in, especially given how happy Emi sounded every time she’d spoken to them since. She knew now not only would they say they told her so, if they saw how this was destroying her, they’d be out to kill Sydney.
The last thing she wanted was to send A.J. or either of her other two brothers, who were just as bad, into a rage that would likely land them in jail. Her sister had predictably been beyond concerned and equally outraged on Emi’s behalf but, at the same time, like Sarah and Emi, was as baffled as they were about this whole thing. It just didn’t make sense.
Emi’s summer classes were over. She hadn’t told Liv she blew off her finals for this, but her sister knew the next few weeks before the fall semester started were wide open for her. Livi begged her to come home. She hated to hear her so heartbroken and know she was alone. Technically, she wasn’t all alone. Oliver had been sharing her sleeping or crying area for the past two days. She’d even gone up to check on Homer a few times, but as soon as she had his food and water ready and cleaned out his litter box, she left. Just being in Sydney’s apartment now hurt too much.
She’d refused to leave Cristina a voicemail because she wasn’t ready to say, “You can have him,” as she knew more mature and stronger-minded women would’ve already done. She was ready to get a few things off her chest, so she called again, expecting to get her voicemail.
Hearing her say hello had taken her so completely by surprise she almost hung up.
But she gathered herself quickly enough and sat up on her sofa.
“Cristina?”
“Yes?”
The thought that Sydney might be there sitting near her listening to her take Emi’s call made her chest heavy, but she swallowed hard and forced herself to speak. “Is Sydney with you?”
“No. He should be home soon.”
“Was he with you these last few days?”
“Emi, honey, I think—”
“Don’t call me that. Don’t you dare call me that,” Emi said, glad the pain was taking a backseat to the anger. “Just answer the question. Was he with you all this time?”
Emi heard her take a deep breath. “I really think he should be the one—”
“I thought you were my friend!”
“I am,” Cristina said firmly.
Emi scoffed loudly, gripping her phone, but she refused to cry. She wouldn’t give the bitch taking her man the pleasure of hearing her cry. “Then if you’re such a friend, Cristina,” she said through her teeth, “be honest. Were you with my boyfriend these last couple of days?”
Silence.
“Were you?” she asked loudly but mindful not to work herself up so much she’d be crying angry tears again.
“I only answered so that I could let you know he’ll be home any minute now. I spoke with him about a half hour ago. He said he was almost there.”
“Is that a yes?” Emi squeezed her eyes, already knowing the answer.
“Yes,” Cristina whispered.
“Did you sleep with him?” Fuck, she was crying again!
“I’m not answering that,” Cristina said, sucking what little air was left in Emi’s lungs out. “I think you and him have a lot to discuss.”
Emi didn’t even realize she’d stopped breathing and just stood there staring into space until she heard the knock at her door. She sucked a big chunk of air into her lungs, feeling like a fish out of water minutes away from death then clicked the end button on her phone.