I drove to a nice hotel in the city - The Rizz.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I stare at my reflection in the car mirror, a pale looking face stared right back.
How did my life go to shit in one day?!
I got out of the car and walked inside.
The receptionist was kind and she almost finished checking me in when the manager appeared.
He whispered something in her ear and just like that the receptionist's smile turned nervous. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. It seems we have no rooms available after all."
"But you were just about to give me a key" I reminded her.
"I'm real sorry, ma'am–" she was interrupted by the ringing phone.
The receptionist picked it up, listened, and then, she held it out to me. "It's for you."
I took the receiver, wondering who it was.
"This is Emmy"
"Leave my city."
It was Grandmother. I felt myself gripping the phone tight in my hand. "Hi, Grandma" I tried to pretend I was alright. I couldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing just how much she affected me.
"You won't find help here. Leave New York"
And just like that the line went dead.
I smiled and stared at my feet for a considerable amount of seconds before handing the phone back to the receptionist.
"Thanks" I murmured and turned around.
Of course.
Of course she would put a blanket warning to all the hotels to stop them from giving me a place to rest. Of course she was that petty and cold hearted.
Of course! She was Macy Vanderbilt and she was a bitch!
New York was her personal backyard and now, she was showing me just how powerful she was.
And so, I left quietly. She can have the highs..I will simply find the lows.
I drove around a while before I found a cheap, creepy motel on the edge of the city.
The sign flickered, and the air smelled like stale cigarettes. The roadside motel - how very accurate!
This was a very good place to contract syphilis.
I was pulling my suitcase from the trunk when a voice made me jump.
"Emmy"
It was Preston. He was leaning against a sleek, black car, holding a white envelope. He'd been following me it seems - where was a well timed missile strike when you need one or an earthquake.
"What do you want, Preston?" I said and went back to bringing my stuff out of the trunk.
"You. I want you" he said.
I paused just for a second as he walked toward me. The nerve on the bastard was infuriating.
"Come back when hell freezes over." I told him and dragged the bags out of the trunk.
"Aren't you're done throwing your tantrums? it's time to come home, Precious. I made a deal with your grandmother. All will be forgiven if you tell the press it was a prank. We'll be back together. It will be like it never happened"
I stopped what I was doing, trying to get the anger bubbling in me to stop. When I looked at him, I knew I failed at that job.
"I would rather dig up my dead mother and use her skull as a baseball, Preston. I would rather sell my soul to the devil himself or exchange Lark and Jack for a grain of rice" I moved even closer to him. "I would rather set myself on fire than be your wife, you little disgusting weasel!"
"Think, Emilia!" he yelled, his patience snapping. "Think about your future! It's only going to get worse! You can't embarrass families like yours and mine without consequences! But if we get married and merge the two families, we will be the it couple. The ultimate power couple. You could buy ten publishers and half of New York. And we don't even have to live in the same house. You can fuck whomever you want and I can do the same. This is a good deal, baby"
I shut my eyes briefly. A thought crossing my head — did he ever love me? Was it always about the power and the money?
"No" I whispered.
I wanted him to fuck off.
But he grabbed my shoulders and shook me. Hard.
"No one else is coming to save you. I am it. Take the help I'm fucking offering and stop being so stubborn" he said. his face close to mine.
"No"
It was when he lost his mind and his hand tightened on me.
"You foolish girl! There's no knight in shining armor coming to rescue you! This isn't one of your goddamn books, Emilia! No one is coming to your rescue on a fucking white horse. No one. Don't you get it? Without me, you are nothing!"
"I KNOW!" I screamed at him. "I know, Preston! I know because you were supposed to be my knight in shining armor. You were supposed to rescue me. I fucking loved you and you slept with your cousin, you despicable raccoon!" I screamed in his face, the tears kept trying to come out but I kept it back.
"Lower your goddamn voice, Emilia!"
"Why did you do it?" I asked him. "Did you ever love me?"
"Ohhh grow up!" He screamed. "We were as compatible as oil and water. Fucking wasn't fun. Conversation was awkward and tedious. You look like that...and I look like this. But it doesn't matter, does it?. We don't need all that for the two most powerful companies in this continent to merge, do we?"
I stared at him in horror.
I hated him. I wanted him to choke on something and die a painful death. I wanted the stupid son of a bitch, to suffer. But most importantly, I wanted him to shut up but he just kept talking.
"No one else is coming, Emilia. No one else." His voice echoed in the empty car park. "No one else will want you. I mean look at you. Useless in the bedroom, and bloated on the outside. I'm your only option"
His words were like bullets, they wrecked havoc in me, and I bled so bad but I wouldn't let him see me fall apart.
"You are nothing, Emilia, without the last name Vanderbilt and without me" he said, his voice calmer now, sure of his win. He slipped the envelope into my coat pocket. "When you've had enough, call me. I'll take you back."
He walked away, and I watched him go. My entire body shook, visibly... uncontrollably.
As if on cue, the sky opened up. Cold rain began to pour down.
In the motel reception, I tried to use my personal card, but it was declined. Of course. Marcy Vanderbilt was anything if not thorough. She must have blocked my personal account.
I pulled out Lark's wallet, my hands shaking, and I paid.
All the time, Preston's voice echoed in my head - no one's coming. You are nothing
Grandmother's voice echoed - you will find no help here.
No one was coming.
The boy at the counter handed me a key, not meeting my eyes and I walked away.
The room was worse than I imagined. There were stains on the carpet, a sour smell in the air, the wallpaper was peeling. It was so horrible.
I curled up on the dirty couch, pulled my legs up to rest my chin on. And it hit me.
No one was coming.
And then, there was a knock on the door.
Preston.
He'd probably come back to wreck some more damage.
Angry, I yanked the door open, ready to scream at him.
But it wasn't Preston.
Carson stood there, soaked to the bone, rain plastering his hair to his forehead. He was holding the potted fern from my grandmother's house.
"I stole the fern," he said.
I stared at him, and then this sobs tore out of me that it practically took my breath away.
He looked down at the plant, confused. "It's okay," he said softly, dropping the fern on the wet concrete. "I can take it back."
That only made me cry more. I couldn't stop.
He didn't say another word. He just stepped forward and pulled me into his arms. I buried my face in his wet shirt, my body shaking.
It was the first time I cried since the night my mother died seventeen years ago.
I don't know if husbands who steals fern counts but somebody came.
SOMEONE CAME