Book III of UNC Series
While it's known that there are five stages of grief, did you know that there are also five stages of love?
Bailey Nicholson dreamed of finishing her Master's degree and settling in Boston while working alongside her boyfriend...
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"What the fuck do you think you are playing at? I let this childish behaviour play out for far too long. Blocking my number? Really? Did you think that would stop me? I think you forget that I'm your father, Bailey Elizabeth Nicholson. Now pick up the phone and tell me why your brother thought to come and speak to MY board of directors? And while you're at it, explain why they started shutting me out of my company. You wanted nothing to do with it, and now you think you and your brother can take it away from me. You're just as pathetic—"
I delete the voicemail without listening to the rest. Not that I need to. This isn't the first time he's called me, and it's not the first time he's left a similar voicemail on my phone. And I know it won't be the last.
As I expected, he found a way around my blocking his number. Using his office number and then his assistant's number—when I blocked that number—to call me. He's the pathetic one for calling me like this. Scrambling, looking for ways to save his ass. He sounds desperate, and I honestly can't wait to see what Sam has in store for him.
Pocketing my phone, I clear the slight tickle in my throat—left in the aftermath of my pneumonia—and glance up at the large widescreen.
After being on bed rest for days, while Sam made me inhale fluids, it took me a while before I recuperated.
But the days since my lunch with Sam have been a blur. I remember bits and pieces from the day after. From when I woke up in the hospital room with sweat coating my forehead to the cab ride to my apartment and the bickering with Maverick.
Was Maverick really there? It's all still foggy and hazy in my mind. But it was his scent dancing in the air when I came to; the brush of his touch that I still felt lingering on the nape of my neck, the faint trace of fingers along my pale cheeks.
I didn't imagine all of that.
It's a shock to my system that he might have, taken the time out of his day to check in on me. I don't want to think about what would have happened had he not come by when he did.
After everything he said to me, I didn't think he would hold me, care for me. But knowing who Maverick is, I shouldn't have expected anything less.
Despite the blur of the day, I remember the panic of him finding his birthday gift for me. I remember not wanting him to find out that I still cared so deeply for him, especially when he was so casual about tossing it away. I cherished that gift even if I didn't have the heart to open it just yet.
But one day, I will, and whatever it is he got, I will treasure it as a time that allowed me to get to know the real him. The time when he allowed me to push past my own barriers and find myself again. Renewed and stronger.
So without a thought, I kicked him out. Not wanting him to take away what was meant to be mine. The only piece of him I have left.
I won't lie and say my heart didn't lurch out and try to reach for him when he walked out that door. The way my stomach gave out, the butterflies that come to life whenever he's around, extinguished, and fatigue weighed heavily on my bones as opposed to when I felt lighter moments before.
