Page 61 of Make Me Yours

TWENTY

STELLA

“Take a deep breath, Little Dove. It’ll be all over soon.” Although his words should be comforting, coming from a place of true sympathy, I can’t help but cringe at the absurdity of their meaning.

It will never be over. It’s only the beginning, and I’d be foolish to believe anything other than the truth. I’m no longer the little girl with stars in her eyes and dreams of a happily ever after in her mind. I’m no longer floating among the clouds, wishing I’d one day find true love and, in turn, hope it would heal every one of my wounds.

But that’s not the case. True love doesn’t exist, and if it did, it’s not worth the pain.

I had this same argument with Scarlett and Jade at one point, unable to accept they didn’t believe in true love. I was a believer. I had to be. The alternative was too painful. My mother loved me. I know deep down she did. She loved my father once and although he may not have felt the same way all those years. He had to have cared at one point.

Though Scarlett told me,love is for those afforded the privilege of making mistakes. For those who have the opportunity of choosing to blindly trust another over their own judgment. Of allowing themselves to let their guard down and live with the impending threat of never being able to come back from the disappointment that is to ensue.

I couldn’t agree with her sentiments about love, only being for the weak.Was I weak to believe I could experience it? Was I willing to risk everything for a fleeting moment, a distant dream, a flawed fantasy?

I was naïve, I'll admit that, having never experienced heartbreak. The euphoric feeling of no one else mattering but them, followed by the incredible low of realizing you never mattered to them.

I didn’t believe it then, but now I realize Jade was also right.Love is nothing but an illusion. A fantasy we wish to believe because the thought of no one genuinely caring for our wellbeing, for our happiness, is too harsh a reality to swallow, tricking us into believing someone out there, anyone, will choose to see us through a different eye. To see us for what we wish we were.

Nevertheless, I was about to make the same mistake in the eyes of everyone else.

I brought all my friends back to my uncle’s estate today under the ruse of celebrating my eighteenth birthday, which isn’t a total lie. After all, I am the last one of our group to transition into adulthood, yet all I can think of is how my life is already over. Where others dream of the perks, once and for all being able to make their own decisions regarding their futures, I’m stuck living out the wicked wishes of a vile, heartless man. What once were silk strings now are steel chains, binding me to him for eternity.

It’s been over a month since graduation, and in that time, I’ve finalized the terms of my engagement. Elijah and I have kept things quiet, mainly because I was trying to find the right time and way to tell my closest friends I’ve married a man they’ve either never heard of or wouldn’t have ever crossed their mind. Ruby is the only one who knows I’ve beenseeingElijah, witnessing the times we’ve hung out at The Jungle, but that’s the extent of it. She’d never guess the problematic punk on a motorcycle is, in fact, the wealthy son of a distinguished judge. And the man I’m going to marry.

Frankly, my Uncle Stephan wasn’t in any hurry to deliver the news either, so long as I kept my word and went through with the arrangement. It’s not like I have any other options.

Today all of that is about to change, because what my friends don’t know is that my birthday party is also doubling as my engagement party.

“How can you be so calm?” I whisper to Elijah, pacing back and forth in my bedroom, as he adjusts his navy blue tie in the full-length mirror against the wall of my bed. My body shivers in panic, my mind trying to find the best way to make my announcement.

I’ve been planning this for weeks, but still have absolutely no idea what I’m going to say. It’s irritating to watch him not only look like a hotter version of Prince Charming in his two-piece suit, but to see him so unaffected.

Unable to settle my anxiety, I run over to my dresser, reaching into the top drawer, and pulling out my container of pills. My lifeline.

A shadow appears behind me, his body hovering over me, swallowing me in. “Because I’ll be there by your side through it all, Stella.” He reaches for my meds, yanking them out of my hands. “Would you stop taking this shit? You don’t need it, Stella.”

I scoff in annoyance. “Elijah, we’ve been through this. I suffer from intense panic attacks, crippling anxiety, and if I don’t take my medication, I can’t function.”

He rolls his eyes at me in frustration. “Why? Becausehesays so.”

There it is. The judgment. Elijah was the one person who hadn’t judged me for being so weak, but now it seems he’s just like everyone else. “Elijah, please, not tonight.”

“Stella, you can’t keep letting him do this to you. Once we’re married, you need to go to your own doctor and get a second opinion. Maybe therapy or something will work.”

Abruptly, I turn and glare at him, not caring much for his controlling tone. “I already have one man dictating what I do with my life. I don't need another Elijah,” I sneer, wondering why it’s so easy for me to stand up to him, yet so difficult for me to stand up to anyone else. “If that’s what this,” I motion between the two of us, “is going to be like, then let's just forget about the whole thing.”

Anxiously, he runs his fingers through his perfectly combed hair, amber eyes the same shade of honey, staring at me apologetically. I swear this guy isn’t the same outlaw by the name of Prophet I met at a sketchy biker-run nightclub just a few months ago. He’s clean and pristine, elegant yet not too ostentatious. You would have never guessed he was well bred dressed in the Cobra cut and leather ensemble, but in this dashing Armani Privé suit, he’s as gallant as they come.

“I’m sorry, Little Dove, that’s not what I meant.”

I sigh, overwhelmed by everything today stands for. “I know, it’s just I’m not well, Elijah. To be honest, I don’t think I ever was. My mother had a mental illness, one she never took care of and, well, we both know what happened. There’s a reason I have a shrink, and he’s the one who prescribes my meds.”

“Yeah, but he’s under Stephan Silver’s payroll. I don’t trust he has your best interests at heart, Stella. Those meds seem to do more harm than good. You said so yourself, you've abused them in the past. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I care about you, Stella.”

I reach out and take his hand in mine, meeting his worried gaze with comfort and gratuity. It’s odd to have someone I haven’t known for long care about me, but this close friendship with Elijah has never made sense. “My uncle isn’t making me sick, Elijah. Despite everything he’s done, I don’t think he’s that much of a monster. He may hate me, may physically hurt me, but he’d never actually…” my words die on my lips as doubt clouds my mind. I’d like to think my uncle Stephan would never put my life in any real danger, but after everything that’s happened, I don’t know if that is true.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s capable or not, Stella, because trust me, we have varying opinions on that, but he’s made you dependent on them, dependent on him. The worst kind of monster is the one who makes you believe you can’t exist without them.” I don’t miss the added jab at Kai in his comment.

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