Page 50 of Her Billionaire Hero
“Do you laugh together?”
“Yeah. She’s pretty funny—even if she thinks she’s all busted up inside. And we both know that I’m a riot.” I could step it up. I could find ways for us to end up alone together without freaking her out. That’s all we’d really need: to bring our friendship back to where it had been. The relationship would find its way back.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sloan
Sitting in the living room of my new home on Lake Travis, a short distance outside of Austin, I sipped my coffee while gazing out the wall of windows that looked over the lake. I’d only lived there a week but already it felt like home to me.
Although it was a bit on the lonely side, I loved everything about my new place. Delia opted to stay in the apartment, saying I needed to make this place mine and mine alone. It was time that I stopped using her as a crutch anyway.
I’d leaned on her far too much as it was. It was time to stand on my own two feet once again. Nine months of therapy had me understanding more about myself than I had even before all the horrible news came tumbling down on me.
The fact was that sometimes bad things happened to good people. It didn’t make me or my mother stupid for being manipulated. We were simply trusting people who were taken advantage of by a terrible person.
For the longest time, I kicked myself repeatedly for being so damn stupid as to not see through Preston. I was done doing that to myself. And at least now I knew what to look for if anyone else tried to manipulate me.
It wouldn’t be an easy task to take advantage of me anymore. But I didn’t have to be afraid of other people. I didn’t have to keep everyone at arm’s length either.
“In other news, a man who was awaiting a trial date for murder, kidnapping, and attempted murder has committed suicide at the Travis County Correctional Center where he was incarcerated nine months ago,” a female reporter said, drawing my attention to the television I’d turned on earlier.
“Preston,” I whispered as I watched the screen.
His mugshot filled the screen as the reporter went on. “Preston Rivers hung himself in his quarters early this morning. His trial was scheduled for later this month.”
I felt nothing at all. Not peace, not anguish, nothing. The doorbell rang and I turned to look at the front door. It was eight in the morning; I hadn’t expected anyone to come over. I was still in my nightgown, but padded in bare feet to the door anyway to look out the peephole. “Baldwyn.”
Opening the door, tears sprang up in my eyes for some reason. “I have something to tell you.” He pulled me in, hugging me. “Preston’s killed himself.” His lips pressed against the top of my head.
“I know,” I said as a sob came unexpectedly out of my mouth. “I just heard it on the news.”
Sweeping me up into his strong arms, he carried me inside, kicking the door shut behind us. “I knew this would be hard on you. It’s a shock, I know. And it’s a let down too. I know you wanted him to stand trial and face what he did to you and your family.”
I honestly had no idea why I was crying, and so hard at that. I couldn’t even speak for all the crying I was doing. So many things swirled inside of me.
Part of me was mad that Preston had escaped being judged by a jury of his peers. Part of me was happy he wasn’t walking the earth any longer. Part of me was sad because no matter how it all happened, I’d actually loved the man at one point. But the biggest part of me was elated—I was free of him for good. I would never have to see him in the flesh again for as long as I lived.
Baldwyn sat on a chair, holding me on his lap as he held me close, whispering, “It’s going to be okay, baby. You’re going to be fine. I’m with you. You’re not alone in this.”
He was right. Before he came, I didn’t even know how to respond to what I’d just heard on the television. But as soon as I saw him, my emotions came crashing to the surface, insisting to be let out—set free.
Baldwyn was good for me. He was like a part of me in a way. He was the part of me that allowed me to express myself without fear that I would drown in my emotions.
It became crystal clear to me that I’d held everything back, buried it deep down, thinking all the pain would eventually go away on its own. Therapy had helped be come to that understanding, but it took a while for my mind to accept it. Pain, sorrow, fear, and even love don’t just fade away in time. They have to be expressed, let go, set free.
I hadn’t told Baldwyn that I loved him in a very long time. It was time he heard me say it again. “I love you so much, Baldwyn Nash. I know I’ve been elusive and haven’t let you inside for a long time. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, placing a kiss on the top of my head as I clung to him. “You needed the time to heal, Sloan. I’ve never been mad or upset with you even once all this time. I love you too. I always will.”
Gulping back the sobs that rose in my throat, I wanted him to know something. I pulled my head off his chest to look at him through tear-filled eyes. “That time at the hospital when I asked you if you could change my last name—do you remember that?”
“I do.” He smiled. “And I did that for you, Sloan Manning.”
He hadn’t understood what I wanted back then. “I was asking you to marry me. Albeit very clumsily.”
His face froze as he looked at me. “You were?”
Nodding, I felt kind of stupid for mentioning it now. “I guess I was a little crazy at the time. And I’m glad you didn’t catch on.”
