Chapter 180
But buying a mansion, moving to beside his family like a little married couple. He will never let me go
back to working in the Carrero Corporation now, it’s too much. To be a kept woman with no chance of
being able to just slide back into city life should he ever get tired of me. To get cozy and make bonds
with these people who I have loved being around.
What if it all blew up in my face and I had to give up more than just him? His family. Sophie close by.
It’s all so overwhelming I can’t think straight. My fear and anxiety threatening to choke me at the huge
change he wants to make in my life. He has no idea how hard this is. Not so long ago, I was alone,
reliant on only me. I had my own money, my own plans, and my own life and I didn’t want to let anyone
else in. Now here I am, willing to gamble everything on uncertainty and faith and let someone else take
control. I need control.
“If this is about money, Emma, then it’s not a problem. I’ve my own money … I can more than afford a
house here. I won’t even need the apartment in New York, but we can keep it if you want a place to
stay when we do go back there, if it makes you more comfortable?” His face is dark and closed in, his
voice edgy and husky. I can see the rising of commandeering boss Carrero, that no nonsense temper
moving in.
“It’s not the money,” I snap. “It’s how fast this is moving, Jake. How you think that it’s just so easy to up
and move in the blink of an eye. To change everything in life on a whim, because you get an idea and
impulsively want to act on it.”
No discussion. It’s just what he wants, and I have to accept it. I know this means my career will be over.
That overwhelming emotion hits me again and I step back to sit and steady my legs on the edge of the
swing. Nausea rising up and blinding fear threatening to engulf me. He has no clue how much this is
scaring me, he’s changing all the rules, changing all the players, and knocking things on their head.
“Emma, I thought we were on the same page?” He snaps at me and stalks away to stand stiffly, his
back turned. I can feel his rage, even from here, that fiery temper of his bubbling under the surface like
molten lava and that pig-headed logic moving in.
“We are, Jake, but so much is new, so much we’re still getting used to … So much we haven’t even
agreed on … It’s terrifying and so final.” I blurt out, eyes watering with unshed tears. My hands
trembling.
“No, Emma, it’s not … If you love me then it’s no different to staying with me in New York. It’s just a
house.” He turns, flashing me with a cold green glare that does little to hide the tornado brewing inside
of him.
“Don’t say it that way. I do love you!” I snap back, the urge to storm off in rage surging over me.
That’s right, Emma, you always run when you’re scared. You’re pathetic!
“Then what’s wrong with looking for a home we can actually make together?” He pleads, his voice
laced with anger, but I can only shake my head.
“I’m not ready.” I almost cry with the panic gripping me inside like a vice of coldness. I can’t explain it, I
only know that this is too much too soon. There are a million thoughts racing through my head, what ifs,
outcomes of things going wrong. Moving here, away from the city, away from the closeness of Sarah as
security. It’s not even a drive away, it takes hours to get there if I ever needed to try to leave. Everything
choking in my throat as it piles up and I fear a panic attack starting.
“So, if I hadn’t suggested a house but had proposed instead … Would the answer have been no?” his
eyes flare in rage and hurt. Spitting it at me accusingly, Carrero ego well and truly bruised and seeing
only what he wants to see.
“That’s not fair … It’s not the same thing.” I flail.
“It’s exactly the same fucking thing … Answer me … If I had asked you to marry me right now, then
what would it have been? Yes, or fucking no?” He moves to me menacingly and grabs my arm in a
biting embrace. I can’t answer, my throat closing in panic and unable to formulate a response that will
satisfy him. It’s too soon and I’m terrified, I wouldn’t say no, I love him, and I want a life with him, but I
can’t say yes to that when he’s asking me in this way and being this way. I stay silent and just grasp for
words to come, the panic all over my face under his intimidating glare.
“That speaks fucking volumes.” He grinds and storms off toward the house angrily, wearing his bruised
feelings openly. I reach for him with a sob in my throat but can’t find the strength to move my legs.
Unable to call out to him. He throws me a hateful glare that catches in my lungs and almost slaps me
into sense, my inner panic spikes into rage instead.
So, goddamn typical of him. It’s his way or no way and he won’t entertain any defiance or wait to find
out why I even feel this way. He doesn’t care how I’m freaking out about this, just doesn’t like the
refusal so storms off. Too used to getting his own way in everything. Screw you, Carrero
I bubble inside, storming around with my internal rage.
I don’t want this; I don’t want the pressure of him buying me a home. Playing happy families with all
these people who actually matter, so soon … Not yet, not when everything is still so new, and I still feel
so insecure all the time. And work?
I know for a fact he won’t want me to fly to the city and take up my old position, he barely wants to go
back himself lately and moving here will make it final. The truth is that I thought it would change, that I
would have some sort of epiphany that I was finally with the man I would be with forever and it would all
just go away. That I would be happy to be kept by him, but all the doubts, fears, and insecurities
remained, and I wondered if I was destined to be plagued with them forever, that Jake would bore of it
and leave me.
My insecurity won’t allow me to ever think beyond right now, think about when Marissa’s baby comes,
or Jake and I in any long-term sense. I can only think about the here and now, so sure that I will be
tempting fate if I dare to hope for more than I’ve been given. I’m someone who’s used to happy ever
afters, of people sticking around. Not even my own father saw a reason to stick around. Somewhere,
inside of me I’ve convinced myself that Jake will never stay, that one day he too will walk away.
Jake’s obsession with always thinking ahead and trying to plan our forever is terrifying. He’s putting so
much emphasis and hope on an imagined future with me without hesitation. It feels like a huge weight
of responsibility. I’ve never been someone who thought of other people taking the lead in my life. All my
careful plans and goals self-orientated, leading to self-dependence and security, without relying on
other people. Other people can hurt you, let you down and walk away. Everyone is capable of it,
everyone capable of changing toward you and Jake is no different. All along, a part of me has held her
breath waiting for that fateful moment when he realizes I’m not everything he wants in life and he will
cut me loose.
That’s why I can’t let him do this, can’t let him push me deeper into the comfort and security of being
his forever, starting to build a home and a life so different to anything I have ever known, because I
know, one day, he will tire of the broken little girl full of fears and anxiety. When I am no longer so much
fun or mystery. And then the devastation of so much loss will end me. The loss of a life with him, with
all of this, will kill me.
I take deep steadying breaths, trying to calm the manic panic inside my head and getting my shit
together. I need to stop rambling and focus. I need to pull it all in and calm the hell down.
Stop letting teen Emma control your thoughts.
I finally follow Jake’s route to the house and bypass all who are milling around in the family room, going
straight to our bedroom. Jake’s packing and my stomach drops. His body radiating aggression, his face
dark. I stop for a moment to watch him by the door, I know he sees me, he pauses mid-stroke throwing
his clothes in the case but then continues without turning my way.
Well and truly pissed then.
“I guess we’re leaving today?” I try with a gentle tone. But Jake blanks me. He walks to the wardrobes
in the wall and yanks more of his clothes out in a manner that screams fuck off.
“Jake?” I try patiently, hating this thick atmosphere and the way he’s practically massacring his
expensive shirts as he rolls them into balls and almost punches them into his case.
“Yes. We are … I’m not in the mood to hang about any longer.” He snaps and then continues tossing
and throwing his clothes in haphazardly.
“You don’t think you’re taking this way out of context?” I push, my own anger rising but trying not to lose
it
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