Page 21 of Cupcak
“I love you, Emmy,” I whisper, kissing away her tears and her sobs, promising that I’ll always be with her.
Emmy
He loves me?As Drake’s chest rises and falls from sleep, I lie there in his arms, feeling a cold sense of dread replacing the warm afterglow of our lovemaking. He loves me.
Sliding out from beneath his heavy arm, I cover my mouth as I rush for the bathroom, holding in the sobs that just won’t seem to quit.He loves me.
I wanted that. I know I did. I’ve been desperate for the chance at real love for my entire life. But hearing those words…I don’t know why, but it hurt. Helovesme?
Grabbing one of his button-up shirts from the hamper, I wrap it around my body then turn on the faucet, splashing a bunch of water over my face as I try my best to calm down. Sex with Drake was beautiful. It was phenomenal, actually. But now, in the cold hard light of the afterglow, I can’t seem to stem the flow of tears.He loves me.
My mother said she loved me.
But she abandoned me for a dream and never returned.
Pop says he loves me.
But he’d go and meet Gran in the afterlife the second he was given the chance.
Now Drake says he loves me…
And I don’t know how to take it. In a way, when he claimed that he owned me, that felt more stable and sure than a word like ‘love’. In my experience, the people who love me leave. And I don’t want Drake to leave.
But how can he stay? How canweseriously work?
Before this sobering moment right here, I’d been living in a cloud filled with lust-filled emotion. And now, as the harsh light above the vanity shines on my pale face, I’m reminded of what I am. A nineteen-year-old girl with absolutely nothing to give but her virginity. And now that that’s gone, what else is there?
Drake is a forty-five-year-old man. He has his owncompany. And by the looks of things, he’s worth millions of dollars. What on earth could he possibly want with a girl like me long term?
I’m actually annoyed at myself for how naive I’ve been, believing in this fairy tale. We literally met no more than a week ago. We’ve had two meals and multiple orgasms, and now I’m supposed to believe that this is how it starts? That my happily-ever-after is a beautiful man more than twice my age who’s lying out there fast asleep and promising me the world? But for how long? Forever? Until the novelty wears off? Until I’m not young anymore? How does something like this work?
I want to believe his words. I do. But it sounds far too good to be true. And if there’s one bit of wisdom my gran—who was a practical woman—imparted me with, it’s this:If it seems too good to be true. You’ll only get your heart broken.
In my world, the poor, broken girl doesn’t get the handsome, rich guy. In my world, the little girl excited about having a famous mother never sees her mom again. In my world, a man doesn’t just swoop in with promises of love and an easy life unless he’s planning to use you up and spit you out. In my world, I have to protect my heart. In my world, I rescue myself.
Blowing out a steady breath, I know deep in my bones what I need to do. Keeping Drake’s shirt on, I quickly gather my things and tiptoe to the door, letting myself out of the apartment and out of Drake Grant’s life for good. What we had was beautiful and pure, but the reality is, a girl like me doesn’t get to keep a guy like him. And I don’t want to stick around to find out how messy it gets when it ends. No. My grandmother was right. A girl should most definitely protect her heart. And in a way, my mother was right too—I should be chasingmydreams.
If only I had an inkling of an idea what they were…
Drake
“Morning, si—” Alice clamps her mouth shut the moment she sees my face as I stalk into my office. My mood is black, and it’s showing no signs of improvement.
Emmy wasn’t in bed when I woke up.
Emmy isn’t at her desk.
Emmy isn’t answering her phone.
Emmy.
Emmy.
Emmy.
Where is she?
Fuck.
