The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

Chapter 88

I finally get home to the apartment in the early hours; Jake had two cars awaiting us at the airfield, so I didn’t need to share the journey to his apartment first. This was a new move for him, we’ve always shared cars coming home, so this spoke volumes about what he’s feeling about me.

He never looked at me once in our entire trip. At the car, he just guided Marissa into his and departed, left me standing in the dark with Jefferson. Empty and broken hearted, aching to have him say something, anything to me. I almost burst into tears right then and there.

Sarah’s in bed and I know, without checking, that Marcus is here too, I can sense his presence in the house and smell his scent lingering in the air. Cheap cologne and deodorant. The thought makes me uptight, but I ignore it and go to bed, taking sleeping pills before I lay down. I’m going to need them; my head is so full to bursting that I know if I even try and extract one tiny piece it will unravel like a chaos of elastic bands. That I’ll unravel, and I’m so done with that kind of pain and turmoil.

* * *

I wake to the sounds of Sarah making breakfast, my head groggy, but at least I managed to sleep. A dreamless black haze and the usual night tremors waking me early before I finally dozed again. The aftereffects of the pills are not great, my mouth is fuzzy, and I feel hungover, so I venture through in my robe for a drink, seeing her moving from stove to worktop effortlessly. The kitchen has always been her territory and it shows in her graceful, easy movements. She seems different this morning though, tired, and uptight.

“Hey,” I breathe, and she startles at my voice then breaks into a warm smile. I notice the lack luster in her normally bright eyes causing the hint of concern to unravel inside of me.

“Hey, stranger … God, I love your hair, when did you do that?” she gushes at me, the tight look dissipating quickly. I automatically reach up and tug on a strand self-consciously and shrug.

“Felt like a change.” I respond emptily.

Has it really been that long since we have been in each other’s company?

“You look so different … So un-Emma,” she giggles and continues to work, returning to the stove. “You hungry?” she goes back to focusing on the batter she’s mixed up and drops some in the pan she’s oiled.

“Not really.” I answer tightly. How can I tolerate food while my insides are violently rejecting life? I notice the pile of letters on the surface and rake through to give myself a task, flinching at the ones addressed to Marcus and cast her an accusatory look.

“So, were you going to inform me I had a new roommate?” I utter quietly, catching her pause for a second, the whisk stills, then resumes.

“I really didn’t think you would care, Emma … You’re never here … I get so lonely.” Her voice wavers and I’m hit by sudden guilt from her admission.

Lonely? Sarah?

The bright and sassy soul of the party, surrounded by her chef friends and busywork schedule … Since when? I rake her up and down, my mind racing over recent months, pushing further back … I guess I have never realized, always focusing on my own turmoil, and keeping her at arm’s length.

I regret it instantly, as though for the first time, seeing it from a different viewpoint. I’ve left her alone so many times, assuming she has everything she needs. That she didn’t need me. No one else ever did and I never gave her a second thought.

“I’m sorry, Sarah,” my voice breaks unexpectedly, my emotions just tumbling out from a deep recess as the walls start to crumble; her head snaps around, staring at me in confusion. Overwhelming shame

and guilt hits me hard in the gut, almost winding me and I struggle to inhale. “I’m sorry that I’ve been such a shit friend … And a worse roommate.” The dam I’ve been holding back all-night bursts, such a tiny reason to fall apart, yet here it is, that extra nudge of my vulnerable emotional bubble and it pops. Magnificently.

Truly losing the plot, Emma!

“Hey … hey, shhhh.” She drops her pan and ladle, rushing to my side and cradling me awkwardly in her arms as the tears start to course down my face in a wild torrent.

“Where the hell has this come from, and what have you done with Emma?” she laughs, an anxious edge in her voice as her breath warms my hair and it pains me even more, it reminds me of him.

“I’m sorry,” I sniff and try to reel myself back in, embarrassed by my behavior, but in a way relieved. Sarah has never seen this side of me and maybe it’s time I let her in on the fact that I’m not the strong capable shell of a person she has known so long, after all - I am so tired of pretending. “I’m really sorry, Sarah.” I stutter incoherently, my face damp and dripping.

“Emma you’re scaring me … This is so not you … To be honest, I don’t actually know how to react.” There’s a definite edge of wary, still holding me awkwardly because we’ve never hugged before; so, this is monumental.

I stand up, pushing the bar stool aside and wrap my arms around her fully, giving her the most Jake- like bear hug I can muster. I did learn from the best after all. At least he taught me that. This girl has been there in times when I was no one and I’ve pushed her so far into the background of my life in a bid to forget who I was that I forgot about her, how much she used to mean to me. I’ve left her floundering in my past and never realized she needed a place in my present. She squeezes me back, the hesitation in her falling away and she embraces me with equal vehemence. We stand this way for minutes.

When we part, there are tears in her eyes too, confused, unsure, but overwhelmed mostly and she keeps my hand in hers.

“I’m different, Sarah … things … Jake … He’s changed everything.” I smile through my pain, unable to explain. He has no idea what he’s done to me, these months, these agonizing few days; he’s opened a dam and I can’t pull the flood waters back. He’s broken me open and let the parts of me I try to contain leak out everywhere, the cracks growing so wide I can never piece them back together. He’s made me face emotions I have always been so afraid of feeling, or letting other people see. I was selfish. Sarah deserves to see how much I care for her. Always have.

“Emma … I don’t know what he’s done or how, but I would really love to give him one huge kiss right now.” She grins at me, her eyes full of love and sincerity, but I only crumble again. Catching my sob in my throat, I begin to pour my soul out through my eyes as the ferocity of that mess hits me full whack.

“He’s made me fall in love with him … But he doesn’t love me back.” I cry at my own admission, broken by it and fall into the arms of my long forgotten best friend. Ready to unload the burden finally.

* * *

Marcus glares at Sarah as he leaves the apartment, his bag over his shoulder as he heads out. She throws him a haughty look and turns back to me on the couch; they have been arguing over something pointless, now he is going to work. Apparently, this is normal for them.

We’re huddled together under a warm throw, drinking hot chocolate, my emotions are calm finally. I haven’t been able to tell her everything, there is too much to tell, too much to explain and I am still unable to just open up, even to her.

Baby steps.

She knows the basics of the story, how things built up to the last few days in the hotel room and having sex with Jake, then the appearance of Marissa. The final breaking of my heart on that horrible flight home.

“What was it like?” she asks, there’s nothing in her face, curiosity maybe; trying to understand me, understand what I feel. “Sex with him, I mean.”

“Amazing … Terrifying … Heartbreaking.” I answer honestly, because that’s what having sex with him had been; to fall so deeply under his spell, even though I know it will go nowhere. The realization that I can never wipe it away and it will haunt me for an eternity. No one will ever compare, in any way. Jake – the ruiner of women.

“I can’t get over the change in you, Ems,” Sarah points out in awe, her eyes wide with awe and she squeezes my hand across my lap. “I feel like I have my old Emma back, but somehow, she’s different too. There has never really been this version of you, despite the heartbreak, you seem somehow, better.”

“New version?” I quiz, confused, smiling a little.