Page 95 of Cruel Dreams

“But . . .why?”

She sounds distressed, upset, and I wonder just how hard these past few months have been for Stella. Maybe she’s having a more difficult time than I thought she was. If that’s true, I’m partly responsible. She should be enjoying the time with her family, but it also eases my heart. Stella hasn’t forgotten about me.

“Stella has had very little control over her own life. She didn’t get to choose which foster home she lived in, or how long she could stay there. She constantly lost friends. She has attachmentissues because she thinks anyone she grows to love will leave her. Has she told you about Maryanne?” I have no idea how much history Stella has shared with Monica.

“Yes, but barely.”

“Did she tell you Maryanne’s dead?”

She gasps. “No.”

“Stella escaped Black Enterprises, and to retaliate, Ashton Black had her killed. Stella told you about the years he held her prisoner, didn’t she?” I hoped to God she did, because that’s Stella’s story, not mine.

“Very little.”

“That’s enough. In some ways, important ways, Stella has never had freedom. When she wasn’t shuttled among families, she was praying one of them would adopt her. After she aged out, she had to say goodbye to Maryanne, and she had to work and go to school without support. She didn’t have the luxury of going to college and staying in the dorms and making friends. She had to work during the day and attend online classes at night because there wasn’t anyone to pay her bills. Then Ash kidnapped her, and she lost five years of deciding things for herself. All her life someone has told her what to do, or her situation gave her no choice. I will not be one of those people, our engagement will not be one of those situations. She comes to me on her own or not at all.”

Monica’s silent for so long I think she hung up on me or the call dropped.

“Then what should I do?” Her voice is weak and broken.

“That’s up to you. Stella’s wanted a family her entire life. She’ll stay if you ask.” When I say that, sweat beads along my skin. If Monica asks Stella to stay, there’s no hope for me. I try to loosen my tie, but I’ve already done that. I’m choking on my own fear.

“Whether she wants to stay or not,” Monica says dully.

“Whether she wants to stay or not,” I agree.

“I couldn’t do that no matter how much we love her or love having her here.”

“Then you need to communicate and tell her she needs to do what she thinks is best. Making her own choices is a luxury and something she has a difficult time doing because she hasn’t been given many opportunities to do so. Support her, tell her that whatever she decides is okay. She needs the next phase of her life to be on her own terms.”

“How did you get to be so wise?” Monica asks.

The answer’s simple. “I know Stella, and I have my own fears. I don’t want to pressure her to come back to the city only to have her leave again because she wasn’t ready, or she decides to leave after only a few months because it’s not what she wanted after all. Those things could still happen, but I increase those chances by telling her what to do. I love your daughter, Monica. From the second I saw her she captivated me. You know my parents were killed in a plane crash, and she gave me my life back. I’m miserable without her, but I want her for the rest of my life. She’s worth the wait.”

We say goodbye soon after that. I think Monica is smart enough to follow my lead and let Stella choose what to do on her own. In the meantime, our conversation gives me hope. Stella loves me and misses me. All I have to do now is have patience and give her space to figure out what she wants to do.

I tell Peggy to cancel my appointments and clear my afternoon, and I go up to the penthouse. Zarah’s reading in the bunny’s lap, and Ingrid’s crocheting in a rocking chair near the window.

“Wanna take a drive?” I ask, pulling my tie from around my neck.

Zarah’s gaze lifts to mine. “Where are you going?” she asks, her voice full of curiosity.

“How about to that country house you and Lucille found the other day? I talked to the realtor, and we can walk through at our convenience.”

She tosses her book aside. “Yes! But what about Stella? Are you going to buy it without her?”

“It will be a lovely welcome back present. Because I think she’s going to be coming home very, very soon.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Stella

For the past few days, Mom and Dad have been acting subdued, and though they try not to let it show, I’m worried they’re getting tired of me. They’ve fallen into a casual routine, seeing friends, watching TV in the evening, giving me more space and letting me do my own thing. They don’t feel the need to entertain me or check in all the time.

If I really am going to live here, turn their guest room into my own, then I should start thinking about school or finding a job. The time off to get to know my family has been a dream come true, magical, but life can’t be a permanent vacation, and all the hard years I spent growing up haven’t let me forget that.

One hazy afternoon that matches my mood, I wander out to the beach, sit on a rock, and mull over what I should do. Quinn would call it sulking, and maybe she’d be right. I miss Zane and Zarah. Sometimes I feel like they’re in King’s Crossing living it up, partying without me, though I know it’s not true.Truth or Darestill keeps tabs on them, and Zane pretty much works all the time. The only gossip they have to report on Zarah is whenshe and Ingrid walk through the park or if she and Zane go somewhere.

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