Page 86 of Cruel Dreams

“They are, too, sweetheart.” He brushes a kiss to my forehead. “You’ve waited your entire life to have this. So have they.Enjoyit.”

I curl into him and rest my chin on his shoulder. “I’ll try.”

He nudges me and looks into my eyes. His are warm and full of love and promises. “Come on. There’s nothing left to do up here, and I told Zarah we’d whip her butt at Yahtzee.”

“That sounds perfect.”

We play games for the rest of the afternoon, Lucille feeding us between her chores. Zane gave Ingrid a couple of days off, and it’s the four of us laughing and pretending I’m not flying to Florida in what I thought was a few days’ time.

But that night, as Zane and I are changing into our pajamas, Banks calls and says he’ll fly out of DC in the morning and he’ll land in King’s Crossing at noon. He’s already purchased my ticket to Orlando, and my mom and dad will be waiting at the airport.

My lips part in silent protest. I thought I’d have more time, but I have to work with Banks and his schedule and my ticket is ready.

I try, but I can’t sleep. My stomach is twisted into hideous knots of fear, and I throw up all night. Zane holds my hair and rubs my back as he tries to reassure me that everything is going to be just fine.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Zane

After many tears and several kisses among the ladies, Stella and I ride to the airport.

Douglas insisted he drive us, and we sit in the back of the town car, the city zipping by through tinted windows.

Though she and Max flew without any problems, I still feel like there are worms crawling around inside my stomach, and gripping her hand, I swallow back the bitter taste of bile.

They don’t have to fly commercial. The jet that crashed wasn’t the only private plane we had in the Maddox fleet—collecting planes was my father’s only indulgence—but it eases my mind knowing they’re flying on a larger airplane that will have other passengers on it. Banks didn’t question it. He purchased first class seats, and I’m glad I don’t have to explain my neurosis.

I didn’t sleep all night, kneeling in the bathroom next to Stella while she suffered her own terrors and cried into the toilet bowl. There was nothing I could say that would console her, andI finally forced her to bed around four in the morning where she cried herself to sleep in my arms.

She’s taken this so hard, I almost wish we hadn’t found her parents at all. That we were at the penthouse, planning our wedding. I link our fingers, trying to reassure her. Her skin’s pale, and her lips have lost their rosy, pink hue.

I scramble to find something to say, but there’s nothing. Her parents will love her—she has that effect on everyone she meets. They aren’t going to send her away or tell her they don’t want her like she fears. They’re going to ask her to stay...and that’s mine.

Zarah had difficulty saying goodbye. She’s endured so much change since leaving Quiet Meadows, and I worry that too much more will break her. Stella will be tucked away in St. Petersburg, and now that things have calmed down, Zarah and I can use the time to reconnect. Dr. Reagan insists she needs therapy, and eventually I’ll find someone, but in the meantime, Ingrid and I will think of educational activities that will keep Zarah’s mind engaged and her recovery progressing. She needs to find direction and purpose. Maybe that’s at the company, maybe it’s not, but until her mind clears, she won’t know. We can find our paths together, because God knows, I’ll be at loose ends until Stella comes back.

If she does.

I shift in my seat as Douglas waits for a traffic light to turn green. I have to stop thinking like that. She loves me, and she’s wearing my ring. We’ve been making love without protection. I wanted to tie her to me somehow. Stupid, I know, you don’t have to tell me how selfish that is, but I’ve already lost her once and I don’t think I can do it again and survive it.

Douglas parks in front of the airline’s Departures entrance, and he opens her door and helps her out of the car. He gives her a hug more befitting of a father or grandfather than that of achauffeur, and she returns it just as enthusiastically. I swear he wipes his eyes before pulling her suitcase out of the trunk.

She kisses his cheek. “Thanks, Douglas. You keep an eye on Zane and Zarah, okay? Don’t let them get into trouble.”

“You have my word, Miss Mayfair.”

She stiffens. That’s another thing she’s struggling with. Will her parents call her Jenna? When she comes back to King’s Crossing, will she want everyone else to call her Jenna too? She’s not a Jenna to me. She’ll always be my Stella.

If she turns into Jenna in Florida, she won’t be mine anymore.

She smiles, and he nods one last time. He climbs behind the wheel and glides away. We decided he’d park to give me more time to say goodbye.

Banks is already inside. After his flight from DC, he exited the airport and reentered to walk Stella through security. He looks tired and his suit’s rumpled, but the second he sees Stella, his eyes light up.

Stella’s still wearing her cast, but she looks lovely wearing a black jersey dress that clings in all the right places. After everything settled, she gained a little weight and her skin glows. She pinned the front of her hair away from her face and it hangs down her back, the bob Mel cut it into slowly growing out.

She spent a lot of time in the bedroom agonizing over what to wear, what wouldn’t clash with her cast, what color lip gloss to put on, how to fix her hair. Earlier in the week, she made an appointment at a salon and colored her hair back to the natural blonde I love. Several people stop to stare, but she doesn’t notice. She never has.

While Banks checks her suitcase, I pull her aside. “Listen, Stella.”

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