Love Jason

Chapter 21

Emily's POV

The door creaked, pulling me from my drowsy haze. Groggy and still tangled in the remnants of sleep, I cracked my eyes open to find Marco quietly slipping out of his clothes.

"You were with your dad for a long time," I mumbled, my voice barely audible in the dimness.

"We had a lot to talk about," Marco replied, his tone casual.

"What's up with your dad? He doesn't like me, does he?" I blurted out, suddenly wide awake.

"Forget about it for now. Let's sleep," he said, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"But shouldn't we discuss it?" I persisted, feeling uneasy.

"It's late. I'm exhausted," he snapped his sudden change in demeanour jolting me. Marco, raising his voice against me— What was going on?

Sensing my unease, he pulled me close, apologizing softly.

"Sorry for snapping. It's been a rough day," he admitted.

"That's why we should talk," I murmured, feeling unsettled.

"Tomorrow, I promise," he reassured, and though I still felt unsettled, I had no choice but to agree.

As Marco drifted off to sleep, I found myself wide awake, his outburst lingering in the air like an unanswered question. The darkness pressed in around me, and my mind raced, unable to find solace in sleep. Every attempt to quiet my thoughts proved futile as I lay there, grappling with the events of the day and the questions that lingered unresolved.

As dawn broke, I finally was about to get some sleep, only to wake up to an empty bed.

"What a great way to start the day," I grumbled to myself, reaching for my phone.

Scrolling through social media, a text from Marco lit up the screen.

"Gone and I will be back late. Make yourself comfortable. There's a bag of clothes for you. We'll be at my dad's for a while. Love, Marco."

Reading the message, a mix of emotions washed over me, leaving behind simmering anger and gnawing curiosity.

"Why would Marco make such a decision without telling me? I can't stay here. I need to sing at the bar!" I exclaimed, frustration fueling my every word as I stormed out of bed.

With seething anger, I took a quick shower, hastily got dressed, and stormed out of the room, my mind set on leaving.

"Now, I just need to find my way out of this house," I muttered to myself, the unfamiliarity of the vast mansion causing me to feel disoriented as I wandered the halls, getting lost multiple times.

"Are you looking for something?" Kenna's voice suddenly broke through the haze of my frustration, and relief flooded over me.

"Thank goodness, I've found you. I need to leave," I blurted out, but instead of sympathy, Kenna burst into laughter, leaving me utterly bewildered.

"I'm serious, Kenna. I need to go," I insisted, desperation creeping into my tone. This time, her laughter faded, and she regarded me with a seriousness that matched my own.

"Damn, you're really serious. Didn't your fiancé tell you? You're staying here for a while," Kenna explained, her tone sombre.

"Well, that's the thing. Marco didn't tell me anything, and I just can't stay here. I need to work," I explained, frustration and confusion intertwining in my words.

"You're marrying into the Marino family; you don't need to work anymore," Kenna said, drawing closer and gently taking my hand.

"I understand, but I really need to leave," I insisted, my frustration mounting.

"Why don't we go have breakfast instead? The chef made something amazing," Kenna suggested with a warm smile.

"I don't need food, Kenna. I need to get out of here," I reiterated, but she just chuckled and tugged me along.

"It's not like you can just walk out of this house anyway. Only Marco and my dad can authorize that, and I doubt it'll happen until Marco returns. So, why don't we make the best of our time here and have some fun?" she reasoned, her voice coaxing me to reconsider.

With little choice, I followed her, my frustration towards Marco deepening with each passing moment.

Throughout the day, Kenna stayed by my side, and as I had anticipated, my phone buzzed incessantly with calls from Chris and Layla.

I had to lie to Chris, claiming I was on an unexpected trip, and pleading with him to cancel my performance until my return. Meanwhile, I reassured Layla that I was safe and would be back home soon.

Hour after hour, I waited anxiously for Marco's return, but as evening descended, his absence only deepened my concern.

Marco never returned.

And his phone continuously diverted to voicemail despite my repeated attempts to reach him.

As one day bled into three, my worry swelled with each passing hour. Desperation drove me to inquire with his sister about his whereabouts, but she offered no insight, her nonchalant demeanour unsettling me further. She brushed off my concern, claiming it was typical for him to disappear for days at a time.

"This is the man you're marrying, so you better get used to it," she remarked, but despite her words, Marco's absence continued to unsettle me.

Four days passed, and Marco still hadn't returned. My worry transformed into a frantic obsession. The anger has now faded, replaced by a deep-seated fear. All I could do was pray, hoping against hope for his safe return.

As tears streamed down my cheeks, just like they had for the past three nights, I felt a familiar touch, hoping against hope that my mind wasn't playing tricks on me.

Turning around, I saw Marco standing there, a smile illuminating his face.

Instinctively, I lunged forward, wrapping him in a tight embrace, needing to feel his solidity, to confirm he was truly here and not just a figment of my imagination.