Chapter 21

Twenty-One

“When he feels like home,

that’s how you know he’s the one.”

~ Emerson Chase

“And... cut!”

This was the hardest episode I have filmed. Not only did I have to tell Wesley on camera things had to end between us, but it will be the last time we’re together in this apartment.

Saying goodbye is never easy, even when it’s what you so desperately need to happen to move on. It’s hard to tell if Wesley’s equally affected, but I gather through his late nights and excessive drinking he isn’t coping well either.

The camera crew and Cliff pack up their equipment, along with the makeup artists, wardrobe, and assistants. We started filming at 6:00 a.m. and finish five hours later.

It’s bittersweet in so many ways, yet finally, it’s time to wrap up this difficult season.

“So, this is it?”

“This is it.” I choke back the tears with my wavering voice barely heard amongst the silence. Even George looks sad, his face is planted on the floor with his paws strategically covering his face.

“I never really expected us to be here, Em. It’s odd, you know? Three years of our lives together and now what?”

“We go on. It’s for the best. We were never meant to be, Wes.” I sigh loudly. “George will miss you.”

He bends down, patting George’s head and squeezing his mouth in the palm of his hand. “It’ll be nice to leave my shoes out without having to worry about them being eaten.”

I smile, gently. “He’ll have to move on to stinky soccer boots or something.”

The small smile graces his worn-out face disappears.

What happened between us has taken a toll on his wellbeing, a reason I didn’t pressure or push him out of my life like he deserves.

“So, you’re together?”

I shake my head, sullen and withdrawn. “No, but I love him. If it’s meant to happen, it’ll happen.”

The answer is enough to ease his tension. Leaning into where I stand, he asks for a goodbye hug. It isn’t the greatest of ideas given the circumstances, but I don’t want to upset him further and find the courage to say goodbye properly to someone who was a huge part of my life.

Inside the arms of the man I once loved, I realize what I need to do. We pull apart and I grab my purse with George’s leash linked in my hand.

I scan the apartment one more time, there’s boxes stacked high and ready to go.

This was never my home, it was a place where we enjoyed our time. Made memories, good and bad.

But now, someone else can make the memories for themselves.

I have to go back to where it all began.

* * *

The trip to Connecticut is exhausting and long and gave me time to think...

When Tayla almost drowned two weeks ago, the media went nuts over the Emerson Chase love triangle, at least, that’s what the headlines referred to it as.

Nina quit, telling me the stress had finally gotten to her and she needed a break from the industry. I didn’t blame her one bit— her phone was off the hook since it all unfolded.

Every magazine, entertainment program, and radio station wanted the inside scoop.

We couldn’t go anywhere without being followed. Jimmy even recruited an extra few bodyguards to assist him because things wouldn’t die down.

The network told us re-runs were rating extremely high, and despite their need to control our relationship, they didn’t care it all broke loose. They got what they wanted in the end.

The hardest part was covering up the sadness which seemed to follow me wherever I went. Deep circles carved beneath my eyes. I’d lost an enormous amount of weight from not eating anything besides the food Poppy or Scarlett would force down my throat. I had to hand it to them, the two of them tried their best to keep me smiling despite the media hounding them for answers.

What hurt the most was how I so easily destroyed the relationships that meant the most to me because I was too afraid of letting people down.

Tayla was the only family member communicating with me. According to her, Dad had flown to England to make sure the boys were solely focused on training because Logan had moved out and he and Ash weren’t on speaking terms.

Coach intervened, but nothing could curb their stubbornness. I hated their friendship was in jeopardy because of me, but Ash refused to take my calls and so I stopped trying hoping soon he’d forgive us both. At least Logan for the sake of their careers.

Mom and I hadn’t spoken since she left the apartment with Dad and Tayla. Tayla said she was distraught and locked herself in her office all day and night writing. I knew better than to disturb her creative flow, and settled on talking to her when I got home.

The toughest pain came from how I left things with Logan. I was angry, beyond livid, the night Tayla almost drowned. I couldn’t stand being near him or Wesley. I’d never felt so degraded, like a pawn in their sick and twisted game.

Exchange me for money?

That had me seeing red.

How dare they treat me like that.

Then Logan said he loved me. A pity ‘I love you’ to smooth the mounting tension in the room that day. The words meant nothing to me because I didn’t feel they came straight from the heart. They came from this ugly, jealous place which wanted to prove a point to Wesley.

It wasn’t until the morning after, when everyone had long gone, that the guilt of my actions sunk in. My heart had splintered into a thousand tiny pieces, followed by long, drawn-out sobs. In my entire life I’d never felt so alone. Battling to keep breathing and finding a purpose to wake up every morning.

I was stupid.

Caught up in the game just as much as Logan.

I knew how important soccer was to him, yet I teased him for my own benefit because I felt insecure and needed some sort of validation. But all of it—the greed, the selfishness, and the games we played—almost cost him everything he’d worked so hard for.

And all because of me.

I’d let him down.

Once I realized it was my fault as much as it was his, I fell into a deeper funk. I wanted to reach out to him but knew it would be another selfish act. He needed to concentrate, and I proved to be a distraction of the worst kind.

The only thing I could do was move out of the apartment and say goodbye to Wesley Rich.

My baseball cap is down low, covering my eyes and gaunt face. It doesn’t stop the paparazzi recognizing me, flashes going crazy until airport security need to restrain them. I walk past the noise and to the doors where Dad’s waiting outside in his car.

Dad helps me with my bags, raising his eyebrow without a single word as he places George’s carrier on the back seat. He mumbles something about the dog making a mess, but doesn’t direct his words at me while he slides into the driver’s seat and speeds off.

The drive to Green Meadows seems longer than usual, despite the small amount of traffic heading out of town for the weekend. I know Dad’s not impressed about my affair with Logan, and as much as it’s painful to talk about it, I need to apologize to him.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” I whisper, staring out the window, restraining my tears from falling.

There’s only music between us. The sounds of U2. It’s so depressing, yet the perfect song to capture my mood.

“I’m disappointed in you, Emerson. I didn’t raise a daughter to behave like this. What were you thinking?” He keeps his eyes steady on the road.

“I wasn’t... I can’t explain it.”

He lets out a sigh, shoulders slumping. “When Ash came home and told us he got married I was furious. He had his whole life ahead of him. He worked himself to the bone to achieve his dreams. I didn’t want some woman taking that away from him. Someone he’d known for five minutes. Marriage is a wonderful thing when it’s done at the right time. It wasn’t the right time for your brother and it isn’t the right time for you.”

“Why didn’t you say something? Convince us not to get married if you saw the signs?” I wonder out loud.

It’s funny how when you break up with someone, everyone voices their opinion on how wrong you were for each other yet, prior to that, no one breathed a single word.

“I did,” he tells me. “I wasn’t going to let either of you ruin your lives. But neither of you listened. What would I know? Just an old man out to ruin your life.”

“Dad,” I say softly. “You’re not an old man. You’re just my daddy.”

The sentiment makes him smile, placing his hand on top of mine. “Despite our earlier arguments, I’m proud of you, Emmy. You took the best of the situation and built it to bigger things. You’re an astute businesswoman, and if Forbes magazine named you the next best thing, you know you’re going places.”

“I was going places… this separating our assets is trickier than I thought.”

“So, you’ll get a good lawyer, pay your dues, then build yourself back up.”

Wesley and I had been tied financially in every way. The lawyers recommended we split everything fifty-fifty from our cash, investments, properties, and businesses. I’d hired a woman suggested to me—a shark in Hollywood who will fight to make sure everything’s divided equally and fairly.

“Thanks, Dad, for the confidence. I need to take it one day at a time.”

“You’re a smart woman. You never needed to be on that show to prove that to me. Sometimes I wish your brother would have fed off your brain cell.”

I laugh. Dad often put Ash down, but deep inside he’s so proud of him.

“Ash has his own way of thinking.”

“Yeah.” Dad grunts. “Know a good divorce lawyer?”

“Excuse me?” I stumble out my words. “Him and Alessandra?”

Dad nods, clearly not pleased with the outcome. “When you commit, Emmy, you commit for life. Remember that.”

I’m shocked but also not surprised. Alessandra and I rarely spoke since my stay in London. She was often busy with work, and to be honest, Ash didn’t seem invested in their relationship. I love my brother but he has no idea how relationships work let alone marriage. Not that I’m one to talk, obviously I have no idea either.

“So, um… how is Logan?”

“Busy. Training. You know they won their semi-finals? Tough game but they did it. A lot of mistakes, so they need to work their asses off to win premiership this year.”

I know they won. I’ve been following the game and watched it live. It’s my only way of seeing Logan, and every time the camera zoomed in on him, my heart retreated into hiding with a box of tissues and tub of ice cream playing Endless Love on repeat.

A masochistic cycle I can’t break.

I stare out the window, quiet and ignoring the pang which continually reminds me how much I miss him. There’s such an adverse reaction to us being together. Wesley’s followers didn’t hold back their opinions—slut, whore—you name it, I was called it. Logan’s hoard of passionate women did the same.

I’ve stepped away from all my social media accounts because despite my tough exterior, at times, I’m a crumbling mess inside.

We drive up the driveway while I hold back my tears when the house is in full view.

There’s no usual welcome from Mom. No knock me down until I’m almost on the ground, full of excitement and smiles. Nothing but an empty greeting which is exactly what I deserve.

We walk inside to find the house strangely quiet.

Dad places my bags down and opens the carrier. “What do you want me to do with George?”

Dad has taken to George, bending down and squashing his face with a baby voice. This man seriously needs grandchildren or something else to keep him busy besides our fucked-up love lives.

“Whatever you want, but best not to show him your closet. He has a fetish for male shoes.”

Dad pats his thigh, calling George to follow him outside. George seems relieved—a long flight with another puppy on board was way too stressful for him. The bitch had the audacity to tease him the entire flight with her Louis Vuitton carrier and Gucci collar.

Sucking in the air with a pile of guilt nesting in my stomach, I walk to Mom’s office to find the door shut. I knock gently, with no response, then open the door with caution. She doesn’t look up to see me, her concentration focused on the screen. Although it’s daylight, her blinds are drawn with a small lamp directed on her desk.

“Mom,” I whisper, like a lost little girl.

She doesn’t say a word, eyes still glued to the screen.

“Please say something.” The tears fall one by one, the salty liquid against my dry lips. “I can lose everything I have but I can’t lose you.”

She bows her head with a sigh, placing her glasses on the desk. “You’ll never lose me, kid.”

“I have lost you,” I sob. “I got caught up in it all... the whole—”

“Romance.”

“Romance...” I repeat quietly. “I’m not sure it was all romance, though.”

“Bad romance. The best kind.” She finally smiles, motioning for me to sit on her lap like I’d always done as a kid.

I position myself on her lap and rest my head on top of hers, hugging her real tight. Her familiar scent is home, comforting me at this very moment. It’s exactly what I need and with that feeling, I allow myself to cry in her embrace.

“As a romance writer what’s your take on this?” I ask as the tears subside enough to talk. “Tell me what your characters would do right now?”

She thinks for a moment, resting her head against my chest. “Well, they always need that time apart to re-evaluate what’s important and what they’re willing to give up.”

“Go on…”

“Then they meet. Somewhere unexpected, but of meaning. A place close to their hearts. It makes the moment even more romantic.”

“Like at Tiffany’s?” I joke softly, smiling through my dried-up tears.

“Or, like the field on Benson’s Corner.”

It takes a moment for the penny to drop.

Benson’s Corner is the biggest field in Green Meadows. Ash and Logan would play there every day, sometimes twice a day, for as long as I could remember. I remembered telling Dad one day to build me a cubby house in the big oak tree because we practically lived there.

“That’s Ash and Logan’s field.”

She nods.

“What are you trying to say, Mom?”

“I’m trying to tell you that I’m sure you’ll find an equally devastated man on that field kicking the ball around aimlessly.”

I shuffle on her lap, anxious yet eager. “Logan’s here?”

Mom’s face remains placid, nodding again to assure me she’s not lying.

“How… um... is he?”

“A mess,” she states truthfully. “You did a number on him, kid.”

I’m about to defend myself until Mom stops me. “I meant…” she points to my heart, “… in here.”

“Mom, I don’t know how to fix us. We’ve kinda always been a broken unit. It’s just so hard.”

“The two of you never saw eye to eye. You were constantly fighting for Ash’s attention. Both headstrong and extremely competitive.”

“And that’s what got me into this mess to begin with. I signed up for the show because they were doing great things. I wanted to be better, and look at the mess I created for myself.”

“And look at where it brought you... here.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I hurt you and lied, and just wasn’t thinking about anyone else but that moment.”

“I get it, kid. You had that moment. We’ve all had it...” She pauses, then drives her mouse around the screen. “I want to show you something.”

I scoot off her lap to allow her to navigate on the screen without too much trouble. She clicks out of the word document she’s in, then opens another. There’s a title on the screen which says, Bad Romance.

“What’s this?” I ask, unsure of what she’s trying to show me.

“My next book. You see, for a while now, I had this story in my head but it wasn’t right. Something wasn’t flowing. Then, I started to witness something. Something I’d never witnessed before. A bad romance. One I knew would end up with broken hearts.”

I still don’t quite get what she’s saying especially with my exhausted mind barely functioning.

“I knew long before it broke that you and Logan were in this bad romance. I watched, I observed, and it became my story.” She smiles, touching my hand. “Don’t worry, names and places have been changed. But I wrote this, for you. I wanted you to look back at this one day and remember a time in your life when love consumed you. When nothing else mattered besides this one man.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll read it?”

“Of course, I’ll read it, but how did you know?”

“How?” She raises her brow with a grin. “Because you’re my children. I know everything. Remember when you were seventeen and told me you went to the shop to buy Mrs. Cambridge a going-away present because it was her last day working in the library? I knew you went to the drugstore and bought rubbers for Ashley.”

“Mother!” I raise my voice in amusement.

“I was merely grateful your brother was being safe. Plus, I was glad he ran to you for advice on girls and not me.”

We both laugh, letting out a sigh as we finish.

“Thank you, Mom. For putting up with me. For writing this so I can see it from the eyes of the world rather than my own.”

“I love you, kid. No one can ever change that.”

“Ditto.” I smile.

* * *

It’s late. The darkness settling in with no lights surrounding us but the few street lamps and the moonlight. It’s eerily quiet, not even the sounds of the summer crickets pounding my eardrums. There’s only one sound dominating the space around us, the constant echo of a bouncing ball.

Logan’s standing in the middle of the field, dressed in a pair of white training shorts and a black tee, dribbling the ball with his feet. I watch on the sidelines for a while, admiring the way he concentrates on his footwork. His face scrunches up when he’s concentrating, repeatedly blinking until he aims the ball which lands straight in the net.

My footsteps feel like lead weights—heavy and dragging across the grass. I’m terrified he will tell me to leave him alone, exactly what I did to him in my apartment.

“You’re here.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

“You’re here.”

“Well, it’s my home.”

“It is your home,” he answers coldly.

“It’s your home, too. Always has been.”

He won’t make eye contact with me, staring at the goal with a hard glare on his face. I want to tell him I miss him. That I love him, and somehow need us to work out. But I’m terrified he’ll break me in a revenge attack for how I broke him, by telling him to leave me the hell alone and never talk to me again.

“I was wrong,” I admit. “We were both wrong.”

“I did what I had to do.”

“Honestly Logan, you don’t make it easy to forgive you!” The anger comes out of nowhere, perhaps from the built up fear and the unknown. I hate that I want him so much.

“Why?” He turns around and faces me, eyes blazing and full of pain. “Because I fucking love you and you couldn’t see that. You were happy to continue tormenting me with your fictional relationship.”

“But I told you—”

“Yeah... yeah... heard it a million times. You’re contractually obliged to star in the show. I guess I’m the fool for thinking the smallest part of you felt the same.”

“You don’t think I feel the same? You don’t think I love you?” I grab my phone and dial the number of the head of the network—Jeffrey Marsh. It goes straight to his secretary, so I place her on speaker phone.

“Mr. Marsh is no longer with the company.”

“Huh?”

“He was dismissed today.”

“Well then, tell me who I need to speak to regarding my contract?”

“I’m not sure, Miss Chase.”

I hang up and call Cliff. “Cliff, I’m done with the show. I don’t care what it costs me to get out of my contract, I’m willing to pay whatever even if that means every last dollar I have.”

“Are you out of your mind, Chase?” he yells into the receiver.

“I’ve never been saner.” I hang up the call and will deal with the ramifications later. “No more excuses. That’s it. Now what?”

“God, Emmy. It’s more than that.”

“Then what is it?” I drag out in pure frustration, throwing my hands in the air.

“There’s no turning back with us. We’re either all in now or nothing. We can’t ever go back to the way we were... friends or whatever you call it.”

“I know that,” I tell him. “You’re part of my family. You always have been. And now I know why. This was in the cards all along, we just needed to play the game in order to realize what we’d be willing to give up. We both lost, but we can both win.”

This is it.

All or nothing.

My heart’s pounding so hard, ready to combust from the pressure of waiting for him to decide. If he tells me he’s not in, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want him right now and that frightens me.

His head is bowed, eyes closed with his mouth tight. I watch him anxiously, the way his hands slowly open and unleash the tight fists he’s been holding. The base of his jaw lifts until his eyes mirror mine, the desperation matching my own. He moves his body in front of me, raising his hand to touch my cheek, and the second it does the spark between us stills our troubled hearts.

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs with the air escaping his lips. “No turning back. All or nothing. Marriage, babies... that whole growing-old-together thing.” He gets down on one knee and runs his fingertip from my stomach down my thigh until it stops at the scar on my knee.

“Wait,” I whisper, unsure as my heart accelerates from his actions. “Is this a proposal?”

He shakes his head with a beautiful smile. “No. Trust me, if I propose marriage there’ll be fucking fireworks and you’ll be crying like a baby.”

“I don’t cry like a baby,” I tell him with a pout, easing the nerves.

“When I pushed you off the zip-line that day, I wanted you to soar. You always amazed me with your fearless attitude. So, when I saw you scared for the first time, I was sad. It wasn’t you, and I’ll be damned to see you become that person. This is who you are… you take risks and sometimes they pay off and sometimes they don’t.”

I fall to my knees at eye level with him, wrapping my arms around his neck, desperate to close the gap between us. “You scarred me that day. A piece of you always on me. I should have known.”

“Neither one of us knew, but it doesn’t matter we know now.”

“We know now.” I beam with happiness. “So now what?”

“We show the whole world what we’re about.” His grin is infectious, spreading all over me like a warm security blanket.

How can this man be so beautiful? And mine... finally.

“And how do we do that?” I tease him with a smile.

He grabs his phone from his pocket and holds it up in the air, positioning it before he plants the softest kiss on my lips. I don’t break free, not even when the camera clicks. When the cold air touches my face and he pulls away, a smirk plays on his devious lips.

The phone is turned around so I can see the photo and in the space of seconds, he’s uploaded it.

It’s us.

Me and him.

Logan Carrington and Emerson Chase, with the caption beneath the photo saying #Love.

We head back to the house holding hands, laughing about the time Ash got stomach cramps from drinking a can of beer he stole from Dad’s man-cave fridge when he was twelve, and ran home with a shit stain on the back of his jeans.

Mom and Dad are sitting in the living room, curled up by the fireplace reading books. The two of them are polar opposites—Mom’s reading a romance novel titled Chasing Love and Dad’s reading about the most celebrated sporting heroes of all time. They still manage to bond over their love for reading, snuggled into each other’s side on the big cream sofa with pillows surrounding them.

Tayla is lying on her stomach across the shaggy brown rug, no surprise, on her phone with her headphones on. She’s grinning at the screen, typing quickly then taking a selfie with George.

I swear that dog’s a traitor.

Logan places his arm around me as we sit on the sofa adjacent to my parents. Part of me wants to giggle like a teenager bringing her boyfriend home for the first time despite him practically living here. I knock into his ribs on purpose, goading some sort of reaction from him. He kisses the top of my head as I curl into his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Family meeting,” Dad commands, placing his book down.

“It’s weird without Ash,” I say.

Tayla removes her headphones and rings Ash, placing him on video call. “Now we’re all here.”

“Hey.” I wave over the phone cautiously, reminding myself we haven’t spoken in weeks.

“Is that your new boyfriend?” he questions, deadpan. “Looks like a dick.”

Logan laughs as Mom interrupts, “Ashley Christopher Chase… behave.”

“We all know the truth now. Have you talked about how it will work? Emmy is in LA and Logan is contracted to England,” Tayla asks, keeping her tone neutral to avoid interrogating us.

“Actually, I’ve requested to pull out of the show. Dad’s right. I enjoy business and my heart isn’t in acting anymore. I’m sure another opportunity will present itself.”

“About Logan...” Dad announces. “I have news for you and Ash but I wanted to wait until we were all together.”

We all wait on edge, Dad taking longer than usual to reveal his news.

“The US team has picked both of you up on one condition...” he trails off to clear his throat. “You have to win this premiership. Royal Kings will negotiate your contract on those terms.”

Logan’s face beams with enthusiasm. “Are you kidding me? Because that’s great. A chance to represent our country in the World Cup trials. Shit! Ash, did you hear that?”

“Uh, yeah.” He seems less enthused, distracted by someone beside him.

“Bro, c’mon. We’ve been waiting on this for like… forever.”

“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I just kinda like England. Emmy, don’t be mad, please.”

I exhale a laugh. “What would I be mad about?”

He whispers to someone beside him and then suddenly Poppy’s face is on the screen, smiling wide with a persistent wave.

“Uh… why are you with Poppy?”

Logan’s mouth is wide with a smirk. I turn to him for an answer and he continues to watch me like I’m on a short fuse. “I don’t get it.”

“I think your brother and Poppy are an item,” Mom says with a playful smile.

“But... but...” My words don’t come out. “When? How? This is insane...”

“Back when you guys visited London, over drinks and terrible dad jokes. Insane, yes... but fuck, I love this woman.” He kisses her cheek and it’s hard to ignore how happy he looks. I don’t actually think I’ve ever seen him this happy. It’s frightening, yet I’m overcome with joy at the same time. “You always said we didn’t have the ESP thing going on. Twenty-six years later, it’s finally kicked in.”

“Oh yeah,” I challenge. “What am I thinking now?”

“You’re in love with the goof beside you, and want this phone call to end so you can get laid because it’s been two weeks.”

I gasp, eyes wide in shock. “Ashley!”

Everyone laughs, even Mom and Dad despite the awkwardness of me getting laid.

When the laughter dwindles I relax enough to respond back to him, “You’re right… I do love the goof beside me.” I nudge Logan with my elbow again. “And that’s all I’ll say.”

“It’s good to see you happy, sis, even if it’s with him.” Ashley smiles through the screen. “You’ll always be my bro. Just make it official already. If you like it then you should have put a ring on it,” he chants, mimicking Beyoncé.

Logan grins, kissing my finger and leaning into the call as if it was only him and Ash.

“Soon, bro...”

One week later—they won their premiership.

And when the crowds cheered like maniacs, there in the middle of the stadium covered in mud and sweat, Logan pulled out a ring and asked me to marry him.

Fireworks and all.

My brother’s best friend, my rival, my lover.

The man who was always meant to be mine.