When I Was Theirs

59. Jared

59

Jared

E mmy’s father absolutely despises me.

Me being here bothers him more than his actual daughter, lying on the bed with more bruising than skin on show. It’s clear from the way he keeps glaring at me, while ignoring her altogether.

Leaning against the wall, I cross my arms and pin him with a stare of my own. “She’s in front of you, if you were wondering.”

“Jared,” Emmy whispers. “It’s okay.”

Every word is halting, hard fought. Even the whites of her eyes haven’t escaped, the blood red a hideous insight into what happened to her.

It’s not fucking okay. God. I’m glad that Ben and I never had a father, if the alternative would have been this piece of shit.

How he made someone like Em, I don’t know.

But this isn’t my discussion to lead. So I shut my mouth and nod. But my expression sends a clear message.

Upset her in any way, and I will physically throw you out.

His lips twist into a smirk as if he’s won some kind of victory. Rocking back on his heels, he finally deigns to grace Emmy with a glance. He doesn’t even blink at her injuries. “So. Your doctor said you’ll be discharged in the next few days. Given the circumstances, I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to return home. Too many questions, and with Arron dead, it will create a wider reputational issue that I would prefer not to face with the business in a state of flux due to Jack’s passing. Your mother agrees with me.”

“ I beg your fucking pardon ?”

He doesn’t look at me. “She told you to keep out of it. This is between me and Emilia.”

“Absolutely. She’s right fucking there. Try talking to her like she’s your daughter and not an inconvenience .”

Maybe I shouldn’t be in here. Em’s shoulders are pulled up, the pain relief keeping the edge off as she listens. “Jared is right. That’s not my home. It never was.”

He doesn’t even respond to her.

Erin speaks up, her hands folded in her lap. “Listen to your father, Emilia. Just… just for this. Please.”

George Marsters pulls something out of his pocket. “I’m willing to provide funds to ensure you’re comfortable. But you’ll be removed from any future inheritance, and there will be no further contact.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

He waves his checkbook around as if the shiny silver coating is a free pass.

To him, I suppose it is.

The check he rips out is already written, and he tosses it down on top of the bedding. “A full and final settlement, to consider the matter closed. And a very generous one.”

The asshole keeps talking, but I focus on Emmy instead. On the way she watches him. As if this process is so familiar that it doesn’t even hurt.

But then, this is the man who transferred her money to hide her black eyes, instead of returning the favor to the asshole who put his hands on her.

Although maybe I know her better than I thought. Because I can see the pain underneath her glazed look, as clear as day.

How can they not?

“No,” Emmy says finally. Her fingers move to the check, holding it between two fingers. “I don’t want this.”

“Take the money, Emilia.” Her mother finally speaks, her knuckles tightening on her bag. “You might need it in the future, if not now.”

Emmy’s shake of her head is slow. “One hundred thousand dollars.”

Everyone stills. George Marsters is first to recover, his brows drawing down. He sounds almost affronted. “The offer is far more than that.”

I can see the number of zeroes from here.

“No.” Emmy says it again. Halting, and raw, and determined. “I want… one hundred thousand dollars. That’s it. And you’ll never see me again.”

I keep my face clear of questions, even though it’s the last thing I expected.

But her father nods. “Done.”

We wait in silence as he writes out another slip of paper with a sleek silver fountain pen that he tucks back into his suit, taking the original and tucking it into his back pocket. “I don’t wish you any ill, Emilia.”

He looks at Erin. “We’re leaving.”

And… that’s it.

George Marsters walks out of Emmy’s life without looking back.

Swallowing, Emmy’s mother stands. She looks down at her daughter. The softness in her face is fleeting. “Take care, Emilia.”

“You could leave him.” Emmy stares up at her mother. “Walk away.”

Erin clears her throat. Sweeps her hands down her dress. “I enjoy my life, most of the time. I am able to live a lifestyle that I am accustomed to and would prefer to maintain, in exchange for some difficult moments. But you were never meant for this, Emmy.”

Her eyes flicker to me, and I straighten. “You were meant for something better, I think.”

And then she’s gone, too, without looking back.

They don’t see Emmy’s face crumple.

“I’m so sorry.” I’m across the room in a split second. Emmy presses her hands to her mouth, as if she can contain the choked, painful cries. Every single one shreds my heart as I sit on the edge of her bed. “They don’t deserve children. They don’t deserve you .”

When she leans forward, I gingerly wrap my arms around her. “Be careful of your face.”

We sit for a long time, as Emmy cries her grief into my shoulder. My hands are soft on her back. “It’s going to be okay, Em. You’re going to be okay.”

Finally, she hiccups, pulling away. “Sorry. Look, if you need to leave, you can. You must have other things to do. I can... I’ll be fine, Jared. I’ve taken enough of your time with my family drama.”

“Listen to me.” My voice is firm. “There is nothing – nothing – more important to me than you. I mean it, Em. This is the only place I want to be. If you want me to leave, I absolutely will. But I want to stay with you. Do you want me to leave?”

Tears drip off her chin. “No. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then it’s settled.” My own chest feels tight as she leans into me again, and I press my lips to her hair. “I’m staying with you, Emmy.”