Page 92 of Cruel Dreams

“Are you engaged, Stella? Why haven’t you mentioned him? Have you two spoken since you moved here?”

I look away. Is that what I did? Moved to St. Pete? I still consider my room their guest room. My suitcase, though unpacked, sits in the closet. I still feel like a guest, like this is temporary.

All of my things are at Zane’s, if I claim them. Clothes Zarah bought for me, or Mel, whom I also miss, but have lost touch with in the shuffle of my new life. If Zane did what he said he was going to do while I’m gone, my apartment is cleaned out, too. Maybe he sold the building.

Finding my parents didn’t give me the stability I thought it would. I still feel homeless. Like an important part of my life is missing.

“Yeah, I’m engaged. We’ve spoken a little, texting mostly.”

“What’s his name, sweetheart? Does he want to come visit you?”

“I’m engaged to Zane, Mom, and I don’t think so. He’s too busy.”

Her eyes widen despite the bright sunlight. “How did you meet him? At work?”

She knows I worked in the payroll department at Maddox Industries, and I nod. I explain how Zane and I started seeing each other and all the crazy things that happened after that because Ash recognized my name. I tell her about meetingZarah, and how I found out Ash was selling her. That leads to letting Ash take me in exchange for Zarah’s freedom that fateful night at Zane’s party. I quickly skim over Sergio Cardello and how Zane hated me because he believed the lies. It all seems so long ago, and irrelevant. Instead, I admit how uncomfortable his money makes me and his penthouse that doesn’t feel like home, but how I don’t feel like I belong here, either. I cry into her shoulder and she holds me and rubs my back in the way I always wished a mother would.

I wipe my eyes and sniffle. “I’m sorry. I must sound ungrateful.”

“You sound confused, hurt, and overwhelmed. Stella, you’re dealing with so much right now, you’re hardly ungrateful.”

Her understanding eases my heart as does her embrace. The last thing I want to be is ungrateful when all I’ve ever done is try to appreciate the things I have instead of focusing on the things I’ve had to live without.

“Do you want to go back to King’s Crossing? Zane must be just as miserable as you are.”

I let sand drift through my fingers. “It doesn’t seem like he is. He works hard—he’s helping clean up the Blacks’ mess in every way he can. He’s hiring their employees who have lost their jobs, helping the girls who were working for Ash. He probably doesn’t even think about me.”

“I don’t believe that,” she says, bumping her shoulder against mine. “If he loves you as much as you sound like you love him, these past seven months have been excruciating.”

I shrug, unsure of what to say. If he’s unhappy I’ve been in Florida for so long, he hasn’t told me.

“Come on, things have a way of working out. Maybe all he’s waiting for is a sign that you want to go back. He’s very understanding, isn’t he?” she asks, standing. She holds out ahand to pull me to my feet. “To give you so much time after he’s had to live so long without you.”

It sounds so romantic when she says it like that, but I don’t know if my story has a happy ending. I gave up on one a long time ago.

We walk back to the condo, the wind whipping my hair into my face.

Mom and I go see a movie that night, and I try to enjoy it, but as we watch the romantic comedy, I let tears run down my cheeks. I wish someone would tell me what to do, though the only person who can make any decisions for me is me.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Zane

It’s all I can do not to text or call Stella every five minutes and ask when she’s coming back. I feign happiness whenever we talk. There’s no way I’m telling her how miserable I am without her.

Work helps me stay busy, and I would gladly sit in my office twelve- to fourteen-hours a day if Zarah didn’t need me.

Quietly, we celebrated her birthday, the holidays, and went out to dinner on Valentine’s Day. For Easter, I packed a wicker basket full of chocolate and a box from Tiffany, and I ordered a huge stuffed rabbit and had it delivered. Zarah loves it, and it fits beautifully into her newly decorated room. It’s not the same room she had growing up. The pink walls are gone as is most of the memorabilia she collected throughout high school. In its place is a suite done in blacks, greys, and splashes of hot pink. It’s a room fit for a young woman, except for the bunny that adds an adorable touch of whimsy.

As the months go by, I’m almost grateful Stella has been away. Zarah and I needed this time to reconnect, and I’ll neverforgive myself for the years she stayed at Quiet Meadows under Ash’s supervision.

She insists she was lucky he didn’t do worse, and maybe that’s true, but every time I catch her staring into space or biting her lip, grappling to remember something or struggling to work out a problem she would have easily solved before, my heart hurts.

I asked Banks to check on the pilot’s wife and daughter. They used up the stingy amount Clayton Black decided his life was worth. Anonymously, I gave them more, but it didn’t feel like enough, and it wasn’t. No amount of money can replace a life, and I live that every second Stella’s gone. Lucille caught me one afternoon wandering aimlessly around the penthouse, and she assured me Stella still loves me. I objected, but she gave me her look and I closed my mouth. I want to be the kind of man Stella would come back for. Lucille told me I already am.

I hope so.

Spring blows warm breezes and buttery sunshine into King’s Crossing, and I pick up on Lucille’s spring-cleaning spirit. On a bright Sunday morning in May, I catch Zarah reading, sitting in the bunny’s lap. “I think it’s time to clean out Mom and Dad’s room.”

---