Tori
Chapter 24
“—leaving for New York in an hour,” Stefan said, jarring me from my sleep.
“What?” I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. As I blinked in the early morning light, I saw that he was moving around the room. Making trips to the closet. Packing a suitcase. So he could leave me. “Why?”
“I have work there.”
Of course he did. “On a Saturday?”
“You know I don’t get weekends off,” he said.
It felt like he was running away. From our fight. From me. I didn’t like it—it made me feel defeated in my efforts to take our relationship further. And after all the upheaval last night, we hadn’t had a chance to mend things, or even talk about them at all.
“Well, how long is the trip?” I asked, knowing I sounded petulant. But that’s how I felt.
“A few days,” Stefan said, not even glancing my way.
As he packed, I got up to start my day. I took my time in the bathroom, mulling over my lingering anger that he’d barged in on me at the club and embarrassed me in front of my friends. I would definitely need to text them later to explain. I’d gotten a few texts from them around 2 am, apologizing for taking me out when I was underage. Hopefully they still wanted to hang out with me after everything that had happened.
I stood in the closet, trying to decide what to wear while Stefan came in and out, taking a suit from his side and gathering other things from his drawers. I did my best to ignore him, standing there in my robe while studying my wardrobe with laser focus.
Did he really think I was going to just sit at home and stay put while he traipsed off to New York for the weekend? There was plenty of mischief I could get up to while he was gone, fake ID or not. He might have been worried about where I was last night, but he wouldn’t be able to check on me when he was gone. Maybe I’d even get another phone, just for my nights out. As far as he’d know, I would still be in the condo every time he checked my location.
But despite my excitement at all the fun I was dreaming of having, I was mostly overwhelmed with disappointment. Because despite how Stefan had acted, I was sure things between us had changed in a big way. And that we were finally on the path to something stronger, something deeper and more real than just an arranged marriage.
I knew that under all the swagger and the power trips, he was a good, decent person. He had shown me evidence that he was. The way he’d comforted me after my father’s heart attack. The way he’d shown up at the mixer at my school. Even last night—I knew he’d dragged me out of that club because he was genuinely worried when I’d disappeared, not simply to assert his control. He obviouslycared. That this wasn’t just a marriage of convenience for him.
“Where’s your bag?”
Stefan’s voice startled me out of my thoughts. I turned around, finding him standing there with an impatient look on his face. God. Why was he so damn attractive?
“Your. Bag,” he said slowly, as if I was a child.
“Why do I need a bag?” I asked.
“I told you. We’re leaving for New York,” he said. “Plane’s waiting for us.”
My heart leapt. “I’m going with you?”
Hedidwant me with him! And I was going to New York with him because he didn’t want to be apart from me for the weekend. My sour mood immediately dissipated.
“You’re only coming because I couldn’t find a babysitter,” he said. “And last night proved that you can’t be trusted to behave while I’m not here.”
My heart sank a little. On the other hand, even if he wasn’t taking me because he was going to miss me, he was still taking me. That was the most important thing. I would get to go to New York, and I’d get to be with him.
“I’ve always wanted to see New York,” I said. “My father took me a few times, when he had work stuff, but we barely left the hotel. It seemed so busy and exciting, though. Maybe I’ll have time to go to a museum or something.”
He nodded. “It’s possible.”
Quickly, I packed a bag. It would be cold and beautiful this time of year, and I had no idea what we would be doing there, so I made sure to pack something for every possible occasion; a night out at the theater, a stroll in Central Park, a trip to the Met, ice skating at Rockefeller Center. My suitcase was bulging by the time I got everything in it.
Stefan gave it a look when I lugged it out of the closet but said nothing. Instead, he just gestured to the doorman who had come up to help with the luggage, and in the blink of an eye it was whisked out of the condo, presumably down to the car waiting to take us to the airport.
“Are you ready?” Stefan asked.
I shouldered my carry on, almost as heavy and overpacked as my suitcase, and gave him an eager nod. I was going to New York. I couldn’t wait.
