Chapter 39

It'sone hell of a feat to keep my cool as I approach Connor, sitting at the bar to the side of the hotel lobby. We've come from the opposite direction, and I love the horror on his face when he sees my smile, my hand clasped tight in Josh's. I'm sure Josh was the very last person he expected to see here.

His sneer makes me want to puke, but I hold my smile.

"What the actual fuck, Ella? You chose that pimping prick over your parents? You've lost your fucking mind." He slugs his beer. "I'll take care of your mum and dad until you come to your senses, don't worry."

I prop my elbow on the bar next to him, up close and personal and I wait until his slimy eyes find mine. Eyes that I used to adore, go figure. All I see now is… delusion. A self-centred, deluded prick.

"I came to my senses a long time ago," I tell him, "and you don't need to take care of my parents, thanks. I'm doing it myself. They're packing their cases. They'll be staying in Belgravia, not Mayfair."

He slams his beer on the counter. "What?!"

"They don't want to see you again, and neither do I. I'm not joking either, so play it safe. You know my dad. He's pretty pissed off right now and he'll want to knock your lights out." I manage a smirk. "You know what? I'm kinda glad you fucked me over by going through with your threat to call my parents. Any leverage you had is gone now. Over. So, fuck off and enjoy your career. I'm glad I'm not a part of it."

"I did it because I love you…"

I shake my head at him. "Give it up, Romeo. The only person you love is yourself."

He reaches for my hand but I yank it away.

"I mean it, Ells, let me take care of you. Let me show you–"

"You're not listening," Josh cuts in.

"And who the fuck asked you?" Connor has the gall to say.

"Listen carefully to my words," Josh says, their eyes locked, "you will stay well away from Ella, and her parents, and you will stay well away from my sister and my family. Come anywhere near, and you will regret it."

My prick of an ex doesn't want to face off with Josh, and I don't blame him. Josh's entire demeanour puts Connor to shame. He's feigning affluence, whereas Josh owns it.

Connor holds his hands up, his attention all on me.

"I fucked up, ok? How many times do I have to say sorry? Can't we at least talk about things without your boyfriend in earshot."

My God. Even now, Connor really believes he stands a chance, the delusional cockhead. Does he really have that much of an ego?

Yes. He does. He always did.

My reply is simple.

"No. Save your chatter for the poor cow who falls for it next. I'm sure there is a queue of them."

"Ella–" he says as I walk away, but I give him the final middle finger. I hope the whole fucking bar is watching as he whimpers pathetic pleas in my wake. I hope they go viral, too.

The ties are broken, cords finally cut. The deluded prick is gone from my life for ever.

At least some relief is coming out of this debacle.

I finally take a breath once Josh and I jump into a cab. The shakes start up in earnest when we're clear of the hotel – my adrenaline easing off.

"Give me the full lowdown, I'm all ears," Josh says, since the thirty second overview in the lobby hardly cut it, but I can't speak. I'm too drained. Emotionally battered with the ups and downs. "Scrap that. It's alright, Ells," my boyfriend says and rests a reassuring hand on my thigh. "We'll get home, and get you some dinner. You need it."

I smile through my shakes.

"I need chocolate cake, and cream scones, and a whole pack of chocolate cookies." I pause. "Oh, and three family size packs of cheesy puffs."

"I'll start with a sandwich and then I'll make a Superman dash to the store, how about that?"

"I'll love you for ever."

"Thanks, I'll be your junk food Superman for ever, if you need one."

I lean into him. "Nah, it's unconditional. Junk food Superman or not." I let out a sigh. "I need to book Mum and Dad into Madon House, ASAP. Hopefully they'll be packing their cases as we speak."

"No need," Josh says. "It's already done. Call me your emergency suite booking Superman as well."

"Or just my Superman."

He kisses my head. "I'll be your Superman whenever I can be."

Fuck, I love him so much. I just hope my parents get to see even a fraction of the man he is. It doesn't matter how much they think they're going to hate him, he's too good to refute. Even for Dad. They just need to give him a chance.

Josh makes me a ham and cheese toastie as I flop onto the sofa. I don't know whether to cry, or smile, or scream. The agony of seeing my parents that way will never go away, but at least they didn't turn me away without some kind of a hearing. Connor didn't worm his way into their hearts beyond repair.

I get a message from Mum when Josh is out on his Superman run.

We've just checked in. Thank you. x

It's got a kiss after it, and I sigh in relief.

I frantically type…

Can we meet up? Please? Tomorrow? You haven't booked a flight, have you? x

My heart is pounding as I wait for a reply, and I jump a mile as Mum's number flashes up with a call instead of a text.

My voice is shaky when I answer.

"Mum?"

"Of course we're not getting a flight," she says. "Ella, there's plenty to talk about, but we're here, ok? We'll see you tomorrow."

My cards are already so loose they spill right out.

"And will you meet Josh, please? Please, Mum, make your judgement for yourself. Just give it a chance."

She pauses. "We'll try. No promises, though. Not yet."

I breathe.

"Ok, thanks." Another fucking sob comes out of me. "I missed you so much."

She tries to hold hers in, but fails.

"Yeah, we missed you too, sweetheart." She's losing control, and I hear it. "We'll see you tomorrow, ok?"

"Ok, love you."

"Yes, we love you, too."

I'm numb and mute when my Superman returns with two bags full of junk. He dumps them straight on the sofa, and takes a seat beside me. Boy, I look inside and he really has gone to town. Cookies, scones, cupcakes, chocolate, cheesy puffs. He's even got jam tarts.

"Thank you."

"No need for thanks. You can be my junk food Superwoman one day too, if I need one."

Looking at him, and his beautiful composure – even now – I'm not sure he ever will. He does share some cheesy puffs with me, though. And he eats a jam tart, too. I didn't know he liked them, so I'll file that away for future reference.

As the day rolls on, I get more restless. I'd love to sleep but I can't. I'm too wired. I can just about see Madon House Hotel from our window, its windows bright as twilight hits, and I can't stop staring at it, knowing my parents are over there. No doubt talking about me.

I only pray they aren't still sobbing with shame.

I start as Josh takes hold of my shoulders from behind, squeezing gently.

"You're torturing yourself, Ells. Stop looking."

"It doesn't matter if I'm looking or not, I'll still be torturing myself."

He wrap his arms around me. "They said they'll see you tomorrow. Try and rest. They'd hate to think of you chewing yourself up like this."

He's right. They would. They raced over here to save me, not torture me.

"Fine, you're right. I know you are. I'll stop."

I let him lead me to the bedroom, and he helps me get undressed, pulling back the covers so I can slide into bed. I want to let my mind go blank, just for a while. I need to break myself away from the conflict and the heartache – and I need to feel loved. I need to be held tight.

I need Josh.

"Get some sleep, baby," he says, but I grab his arm.

My actions speak volumes, and he succumbs right away, climbing onto the bed next to me, with his suit still on. But he doesn't stay clothed that long. I'm too frantic to get to his skin, to his flesh, to him.

"You should be resting," he says, but I pull him in for a kiss. His concern only makes me want him more.

It's crazy to think that the last time we were having sex, we were also fisting Heath's gorgeous ass in the process. This is nothing like that. There is no stretch play here right now. No kinks, or toys, or dirty games. It's just us.

A couple making love.

That's how it feels tonight as Josh slides his beautiful cock inside me. The true embodiment of soulmates through thick and thin. I know he's going to be here with me, loving me through any circumstance, and I'll be doing the same right back.

His thrusts are slow and deep. The way he kisses me fills me with heartfelt joy, and I let the tears run free. Tears of love, and release, and gratitude. He brushes them away with a smile as he fucks me, no explanation necessary.

I don't know how long we're making love for. All I know is that neither of us want it to end. We let the thrusts ebb and flow, prolonging the climax – focussing on kisses and caresses, tickles and tingles – and by the time our passion does overflow into the bliss of release, it's like a wave hits both of us. Pure, utter love.

Devotion.

Acceptance.

I'd follow him through hell, fire and brimstone, just to be at his side. My beautiful saviour.

My Superman.

"Thanks," I say, dropping a kiss on his jaw and snuggling into his chest.

"For what?" he asks and I ponder my answer.

"For loving me and caring for me. And for giving me crazy confidence every step of the way in my new life."

"Nah," he says, "you were loaded with confidence when I first met you at the Christmas party."

I shrug, then run my fingers down his abs. "Bravado is different from real confidence. Dad always said that people should have the courage of their convictions, and I get it now, Josh. I can stand proud because I believe in myself and what I do. You gave me that. You give me that."

"Well that's good," he says, stroking my hair, "I guess you're gonna need the courage of your convictions tomorrow. What's the plan?"

I don't tell him that six million scenarios have played out in my head today.

"I dunno," I say, "honestly. I don't know."

"That's ok, baby. Just relax now. It's going to be ok."

I drift off to sleep as he strokes my hair, with the image of Madon House Hotel in my mind, praying that my parents will believe in the courage of my convictions, too.