Page 37 of Stay for Me

Chase nodded and moved to stand between my ex and me. “You heard her, man,” he said, putting his hand on his hips, his right resting on the top of his gun.

“So you are fucking him. You’re fucking a cop?” Lucas bit off, his harsh tone bouncing off the walls of my building now. I couldn’t wrap my head around the obsession he had with me. It had been over a decade and still, in his mind, we were still getting married.

“Yo,” Chase clipped, the word sounding like a gun firing. “I’m not going to tell you again. It’s time for you to leave.”

Lucas’ eyes shifted from me to the Sheriff, hatred burning within them. “I’m talking to my woman.”

I wanted to vomit. I couldn’t believe I’d let myself be his anything.

Thomas returned, standing beside me as Chase began barking orders. He leaned in and whispered, “Maybe you should go back into your office.”

My eyes met his, and I gave him a small smile. “This is my mess, and I need to make sure it gets taken care of.”

This is my mess.

Embarrassment heated my cheeks, and I wrapped my arms around myself, looking to my feet as Lucas began shouting, the sound bringing back memories that should’ve been long forgotten…

Nine Years Ago. New Haven, Connecticut.

Istaredatthepackage of Oreos, the middle row of cream-filled cookies now empty as the guilt weighed heavily on my shoulders, my pencil skirt I’d worn for a mock trial feeling tighter around my mid-section now. Of course, I couldn’t wait to get home from said mock trial and get out of the damn thing.

I had a plan for tonight—a good, solid plan.

It didn’t involve me staying in my small apartment, watching 2000s Rom-coms, and fighting the temptation of gorging myself. I was going to get out of this skirt, put on some leggings, and go for a walk. A long walk through campus, and meet up with my friend, Jodie. Even though I was worn out from the week I’d had, I couldn’t spend another Friday night in this apartment, fighting temptation.

And yet? I didn’t even put up a damn fight. I was in my mid-twenties, about to graduate law school, and I couldn’t even control myself around a package of cookies one of my classmates left here on accident.

When I was climbing up the stairs to my floor, I’d gotten a phone call. I knew I shouldn’t have answered it, but if I didn’t, he would’ve just kept calling until I did. That was how Lucas worked, after all. Annoying, forceful persistence. He didn’t even bother starting off with an apology—which I was owed. Instead, he began the first conversation I’d had with him in over two weeks by telling me all things I was doing wrong. He didn’t fail to remind me how disappointed my parents were of me, because instead of staying in Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania after graduating college, I went to law school.

Not just any law school—the best in the country.

Yale.

That had been my plan since I was about seven years old, when I watched Legally Blonde for the first time at a second grade sleepover. I’d never seen a woman so confident and strong-willed before. Elle Woods was beautiful, smart, and kind—everything a little girl like me wanted to be when she grew up. When I’d gotten home the next day, I ran into the kitchen—where my mom always was—to tell her about this amazing movie. She didn’t share my excitement. In fact, she was scared of it and did everything in her power to derail my newly-found career plans. She even went as far as calling my college to tell them I wouldn’t be attending anymore, that I’d changed my mind. She didn’t care that I busted my butt in high school to graduate a year yearly, taking summer school classes between freshman and sophomore year, taking college courses as a junior, giving me a head start.

Now, here I was, two months out from graduation, and the life I’d left back in Bloomsburg was catching up to me, binge eating cookies to cope.

I winced, standing in front of the mirror and promising to not give in to my food craving, with tears streaming down my face, I fucking did it again—all because I couldn’t handle a simple phone call. Shame coated my tongue, and I couldn’t even take that final cookie I’d shoved in my mouth a minute ago. I walked back over to the counter, staring down at the damn things until my composure snapped.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” I whispered to the cookies as I shoved my hands in my hair, tugging at the freshly dyed strands. “I can handle law school, but I can’t handle this? How pathetic can you be, Diana?”

Okay, the negative self-talk wasn’t helping, and I knew that.

But the mere thought of stepping on the scale tomorrow morning consumed me now as I envisioned myself stepping onto the pretty glass machine and it cracking underneath my weight. I’d worked so hard to lose ten pounds—so I could fit into this damn skirt—and now, that was shot to hell. All that work was had gone down the drain in a matter of ten minutes.

I bend my head, muttering more negative things to myself as if I deserved them, and the tiny voice in my head spoke.

You know how to get rid of it, Diana. If you want to feel better, just go to the bathroom and—

“No,” I rasped, bringing my hand up and wiping my tears. “I promised myself I would never do that again.”

Suddenly, there was a heavy pounding on my front door, causing me to jump. I twisted my neck, looking over my shoulder, eyes wide as my ex-boyfriend’s muffled voice filled my small apartment. He wasn’t even supposed to be here—at all. A painful lump formed in my throat, my gut filled with dread and, most of all, fear. The last time he’d driven out here, I’d gotten yelled at, judged, verbally abused, and kissed all within twenty minutes. That was after I’d confronted him about sleeping with his assistant. I’d broken up with him, but it was hard to cut ties with someone who refused to let go.

Which is why I’d come up a plan, one that involved me packing up everything I owned after graduation and moving to the other side of the country.

Another round of forceful knocks echoed through the door, followed by the one voice I didn’t want to hear ever again. “Diana, open up this fucking door,” Lucas bellowed.

The lump in my throat swelled, making it difficult to swallow, and I took a step back, blindly reaching for my phone. I shot a text to Jodie.

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