Love Jason

Chapter 30

Emily's POV

Finally, Aurora drifted off to sleep, her tears from our encounter with her father fading into the night. My heart ached for her; she deserved so much more than Jason Russo as a father.

As the night grew late, I prepared for bed, finding solace in the bedtime routine. Feeling the weight of recent events, I reached for my phone and dialled Layla's number. It had been too long since we last spoke, and I knew her familiar voice would bring me comfort.

"Took you long enough to call," Layla teased as she answered.

"I'm sorry, Layla. Things have been hectic here," I replied, regretting not reaching out sooner.

"You could have at least sent a text," Layla said, the disappointment evident in her voice.

"I know, and I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?" I asked, hoping to mend the silence between us.

"Tell me everything. I've heard the Russos are rich. How's life in their world?" Layla inquired, her curiosity piqued.

So, I started sharing about my rough week, explaining how Jason Russo swore to make my life miserable. Yet, I kept the real reason I was here to myself, grappling with the guilt of deceiving her.

"I'm sorry. Some bosses are like that, He'll warm up to you eventually," she reassured me her voice tinged with optimism. But I couldn't suppress a scoff. I knew deep down that warming up to Jason Russo was as likely as hell freezing over.

"Lunch out? That's exactly what we need," Layla declared, her eagerness infectious as it sparked a grin on my face.

"I'm in, but I'll need to figure out when I can slip away. I'll keep you posted," I replied, anticipation bubbling within me.

So we delved into the conversation, each passing moment drawing us deeper until Layla reluctantly had to retire for the night, knowing she had work in the morning.

"I miss you," I confessed softly.

"Same here, bestie," Layla replied before hanging up the phone.

As Layla's voice faded from the phone, my mind was once again engulfed by swirling thoughts. The haunting memory of Jason Russo lingered, and I found myself questioning why I hadn't left him for dead the moment I had the chance. Maybe then, Marco and I would have had an easier life, and I wouldn't be in this situation.

Marco. My thoughts drifted to him, unable to comprehend why he hadn't kept his promise to call me. "Was he going to leave me to deal with this mess all by myself?" I asked myself, feeling a pang of uncertainty.

Struggling to coax myself into sleep, the shrill ring of my phone shattered the silence of the night. Squinting at the unfamiliar number flashing on the screen, I hesitated, uncertainty gnawing at me. Yet, something urged me to answer, so with a deep breath, I mustered the courage and picked up.

"Hey, baby," a familiar voice greeted me, its warmth washing over me like a long-awaited embrace.

"Marco," I whispered, my heart dancing at the mere mention of his name.

With a surge of anticipation, I bolted out of bed, drawn to the window as if his voice had summoned me there, unable to believe he was calling.

"Miss you, my love," I murmured, the words escaping me effortlessly as if they had been waiting to be spoken all along. The anger I had harboured for his long silence melted away, replaced by a flood of longing and affection.

"I miss you too, baby," he confessed, and a smile spread across my face, unable to contain the happiness his words brought me.

"I can't wait to be with you again, to touch you, to kiss you, to make love to you," he confessed, his words igniting a playful giggle from me.