Page 161 of One Nightstand With My Ex's Uncle

EMILY’S POV.

When I awoke, Kaye was looking down at me, with a bowl of porridge in a tray. Sadness filled her eyes when they met mine, and I winced as I tried to sit up.

“Careful.” She said, dropping the tray onto the floor, so she could help me sit.

Then, she picked it up, and placed it on my lap.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see fear on Alpha John’s face.” She said softly, spooning porridge onto the spoon.

I opened my mouth, which felt dry and cracked, and received the porridge. It was warm, and that warmth filled me.

“Immediately he slammed you into the wall, and saw the blood, he panicked. Then, he finally looked like a sane man, who could actually feel for someone. He picked you up in his arms, and called on us to see if you were okay. Then he had us treat you, while pacing around.” She said, feeding me another spoon.

“He’s dooming himself to the point of no return.” I replied, and Kaye touched my cheek.

“You used to smile so much. Emily, everyone is on your side. When you helped Malia to escape this place through Sadie, our respect for you doubled. If there’s any way we can help you, we will.”

“If you could get me a genie, I’ll appreciate it.” I chuckled.

“What would you wish for?”

“For Lucas to come and take me away like a Prince Charming.” I replied, with a smile.

“Well, you have spoken to your genie already. Alpha Lucas will return. It might take a while, but he will come. You can be rest assured now. He will definitely come. Do you think Lucas will be locked away forever? Do you think he would love to see you this sad?”

“No, it would break him.”

“So cheer up. You have me, you have us. You have the kids. We’re all rooting for you.” She said, and I hugged her.

That day, I changed into a bright yellow T-shirt, and black shorts, determined to be cheerful. To at least have some hope.

I drew a ton of designs for clothes, imagining me bringing them to life with Lucas when we went to Paris.

We would talk about my designs on the river Seine, add extra touches at the Eiffel tower, think of great seamstresses while at the Louvre, and memories made at the Palace of Versailles will be embedded in it.

I was going to see Lucas again. He would be with me once more, and we’d forever be together, exploring the deep depths of love.

With that, I was able to plaster a smile on my face.

I spent hours redesigning my room, putting my drawings of Lucas everywhere. They were nowhere as handsome as him, but I was doing that so I could spend hours looking at him.

I changed the curtains, peeled off the wallpapers, and changed my sheets, transforming the room into something else.

When I was done, I joined the maids in cooking, having conversations with them.

I was determined to wait for Lucas.

“Emily.” John called, and my smile ran down like the rainbow. I dropped the beef I was chopping, and took off my gloves.

“They didn’t ask me to help. I wanted to.” I said, not wanting him to do anything immature just because he felt like.

“Do you want to go on a drive?” He asked.

I gave a silent scoff. Like he was going to care about my opinion anyway.

In the car, I fixed on my seatbelt, and he began to play West life’s I Lay My Love On You. Did he think I’d happily sing to it like I had done the last time when we had gone on a trip together?

“Do you want to go to the arcade? Where do you want to go?” He asked.

“Home.”

“Look, I’m sorry about last night.” He said, but I didn’t reply. From the side of my eye, I could see him squeeze the steering wheel. “The least you could do is try to be nice.”

“I want to go home.”

“Is this how you want it? Right! Fine! Then I’ll treat you the way you want it. Just don’t regret it, and come running back to me. If you think you’ve been suffering, you’ve not. Your suffering just started.” He spat venomously, but I was no longer listening.

A tall man with soft brown hair, and broad shoulders had just passed by, and I was having trouble seeing his face. I turned in the car, and fumbled with my seatbelt, taking it off. My fingers shook, messing up, as I tried to open the door.

“Where are you going?” John asked, holding me.

“Leave me!” I screeched in a hysterical voice I didn’t think I had.

Stumbling out of the car, I ran to the man, and grabbed his arm.

My mouth parted to speak, but the words died off right at the tip of my tongue.

“Sorry?” The man asked, irritation alive in his eyes, and I left him, my gaze falling to the floor.

“You have his hair.” I said, in a little voice, still staring into space. The man walked passed me, and my tears rolled down my eyes.

“Emily!” John shouted, and I sank to the ground, placing my hands on my folded knees. My heart ached. The little flower of hope that had bloomed at the sight of that man had been way too cruel. It had seemed to have fixed my broken heart in that second, and broken it all over again in the next.

John took my hand, raising me, and dragging me back to the car, and I began to cry afresh, not caring if people stared at us.

I missed him.

I missed him so bad that it hurt—his smile, his voice, the look in his eyes.

John ranted all the way home, threatening, and screaming at me for thinking that man was Lucas, but I was lost again.

When I returned to my room, I sank onto the cold floor, and stayed in that position for hours.

Just like that; Day after day, I waited, anticipating the day I’d hear his voice, but…Even after a year had come and gone…

Lucas never came.