April 27
There’s a fifty-fifty chance my father disowned me tonight. I’ve never seen him that mad, not even when I scratched his brand-new Benz after I got my driver’s license and secretly took it out for a joyride. (In my defense, that curb came out of nowhere).
But you know what the worst part is? It’s not the hurt in my mother’s eyes or the way my sister outed me. It’s not even my father kicking me out of the house.
It’s the fact that I wouldn’t have changed what I did even knowing what the outcome would be.
I’ve always been the quiet, obedient daughter. The one who did everything my parents asked, who apologized even when I didn’t need it to, and who bent over backward to make sure everyone was happy.
But every person has a limit, and I’ve reached mine.
I’m pretty sure nothing I do will be good enough for my family, so why even try? I might as well tell them the truth about how I feel. I should’ve done it a long time ago. But honestly, I don’t think I would’ve found the courage to do so tonight if Christian hadn’t been there.
It’s ironic. I didn’t want him to go, but he ended up being the best part of my night. There’s something about
him…I don’t know how to explain it. But he makes me feel like I can be anyone I want to be.
Better yet, he makes me feel like I can be who I am. Does that sound cheesy? Probably.
I cringed reading that line over just now, but it’s okay. You’re the only one who’ll ever see this anyway, and I know you won’t judge.
Actually, that describes how I feel about Christian perfectly, like he won’t judge me no matter what I say or do. And in a world where I’m constantly being judged— online and in real life—that’s the best feeling in the world.
Daily Gratitude:
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Completing the first piece of my collection
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The speakerphone function
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Christian Early nights Christian
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“Are you packing for three days or three months?”
Christian eyed my mountain of luggage with a raised brow. “It’s Hawaii, Christian.” I wedged another swimsuit into
my overstuffed suitcase. “My hair care alone takes up an entire bag. Do you know how much havoc the beach and humidity wreaks on curly hair?”
“No.” His gaze was alight with amusement. “Exactly.” I stood to catch my breath.
My muscles ached from hours of packing. I’d put it off until the last minute, but I needed to get it done today since I left tomorrow for Delamonte’s big photoshoot in Hawaii.
I didn’t mind. Packing was a welcome distraction from the nerves swimming in my stomach and the specter of my family.
I hadn’t heard a peep from them since our dinner two weeks ago, nor had I reached out to them.
Old Stella would’ve called them the next morning, apologizing profusely and wallowing in guilt over what had happened.
Granted, I did feel guilty, but not enough to back down from the silent battle raging in the Alonso family. While I regretted hurting my parents, I was stung that they weren’t even attempting to understand where I was coming from. Plus, I was still stewing over my mother calling Maura a former employee and my father insulting Christian.
I was more surprised than anyone by how my protective instincts had surged during my father’s rant. Christian didn’t need help defending himself. I didn’t even think he’d been offended; insults bounced off him like rubber bullets off titanium.
Still, I’d hated hearing how my father spoke to him. He hadn’t deserved that.
“How are you feeling about Hawaii?” Christian asked.
He was working from home today, but he was still dressed in a suit and tie.
Typical.
“Great.” My voice came out higher than usual. “Excited.”
I wiped my palms on the outsides of my thighs and tried to calm the rapid pitter patter of my heart.
It was half true. I was excited. Hawaii was beautiful, and the photoshoot was the cornerstone of Delamonte’s new campaign. The photos would be everywhere—online, in magazines, maybe even on billboards.
I didn’t want to be a professional model, but the Hawaii campaign could do huge things for my career. I’d already made enough money from brand partnerships this past month to cover my expenses for the rest of the year; the Delamonte print campaign would skyrocket my profile even further.
But such an important shoot also came with a ton of pressure. It weighed on my shoulders and ate away at my excitement until my head spun with worst-case scenarios.
I’d gotten more comfortable posing in front of other people’s cameras since my first Delamonte shoot in New York, but Hawaii was different. Hawaii was the big one.
What if I froze and didn’t recover the way I had in New York?
What if all the photos came out horrible?
What if I got sick and couldn’t shoot or broke my leg on my way to set or something?
The brand was spending a ton of the money on the trip, and we only had three days to get it right.
If I messed it up…
I dipped my head and focused on folding a sundress so Christian didn’t see the panic in my eyes.
I should’ve known that wouldn’t fool him.
“Nervous?” he asked, eerily astute as usual.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “A little.” A lot.
Could Delamonte fire me for incompetence in the middle of the campaign? I have to talk to Brady and go over the contract again. Maybe they’ll think they made a mistake and hire Raya instead or—
“Don’t be. You’ll do great.”
“You have too much confidence in me.”
“You have too little.” His voice was closer this time, a velvet touch against the bare skin of my neck and shoulders.
I turned, my pulse skipping a beat at his proximity.
I’ve never wanted someone more, and I’ve never hated myself more for it.
The memory of his words sparked like electricity between us. His eyes flared with something bright and hot before they dimmed again, and my heart returned to its normal rhythm.
“We leave tomorrow morning at eight.” Christian nodded at my luggage. “I’ll hire a sherpa for you.”
“You’re exaggerating. I’m not taking that much stuff.”
Two large suitcases, one duffel bag, and one tote seemed perfectly reasonable for three days in Hawaii.
“We’ll agree to disagree. On a security-related note…” Christian’s dry amusement faded into something more serious. “The Hawaii shoot isn’t a secret, but I still want you to hold off on posting you’re there until we’re back in D.C.”
My stomach swooped for a whole other reason.
Between Christian’s confession, my family dinner, and preparing for the shoot, I’d pushed worries about my stalker to the back of my mind. Now they came roaring back in one giant wave.
“Do we have any leads yet?”
I hadn’t asked him for regular updates. The more I focused on it, the more anxious I got, but I couldn’t resist this time around.
“Nothing concrete, but we’re getting there. He might not follow you to Hawaii, but it’s better safe than sorry.”
“Right.” I rubbed a thumb over my crystal necklace. “Right.”
Christian’s face softened. “Everything will work out, with the shoot and the stalker. Trust me.”
That was the scary part. I did.
“Get some rest. We have a long flight tomorrow,” he said. “And Stella? Leave the unicorn.”
“I wasn’t planning on taking him,” I grumbled at Christian’s departing back.
After he left, I set Mr. Unicorn back on his perch near my bed. “We’ll visit Hawaii together another time,” I told him regretfully.
He was my trusty companion whenever I traveled solo, but since Christian was joining me, I didn’t need to bring
him. I just liked having a bit of familiarity when I visited new places.
I finished packing.
My emotions swung from excitement to dread to nervousness and back again, but I felt better knowing Christian would be with me.
The butterflies in my stomach fluttered again at the thought of three days in paradise with him.
It was a work trip, but still.
I had a strange sense whatever happened in Hawaii would change my life.
