Forever You by Lynn, Sandi (autobiographies to read .txt) 📗

table and followed her out of the restaurant. She looked confused as she stepped onto the sidewalk. I

put my arm around her and held her as she stumbled on the sidewalk a couple of times. She was in

shock, and I needed to get her into the limo so she could sit down.

I helped her into the back seat and climbed in beside her. I didn’t say a word; I just wrapped my

arms around her and pulled her into me to let her know that I cared. She clenched my shirt in her

hands and started sobbing into my chest. I kissed her on her head and held her tight, letting her cry for

as long as needed to.

Chapter 8

When we arrived at her apartment, I followed her inside and lightly closed the door. She headed to

the kitchen area and asked me if I wanted some wine. I politely declined because I had a meeting with

Paul in about an hour. I asked her if she was ok because she was standing at the kitchen window just

staring out into the world. She opened the bottle of wine, poured some in a glass, and turned around,

placing one hand on my chest.

“Thank you, Connor. I want you to know that I truly appreciate you being here for me.”

I raised my hand and brought it to her tear soaked cheek and gently wiped away a couple of tears

that were left as I said, “I know you do, and you’re welcome.” All I wanted to do at that moment was

brush my lips against hers. I wanted to take her pain away, but I couldn’t. We’re friends, and I won’t

cross that line, at least not yet. She gently smiled at me, patted me on the chest, and told me to go to

my meeting.

“If you need anything, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to call me,” I told her as I pressed my

lips against her smooth forehead.

I walked out of her apartment and started heading towards the limo. This poor girl has experienced

more death than she should have in her life. I couldn’t let her be alone tonight. My head was telling

me one thing, but my heart was telling me to bring her home with me. I walked back up to her

apartment and knocked on the door.

“Hey, what are you still doing here?” she asked.

“Pack a bag because you’re staying with me tonight,” I said as I walked through the door.

She looked at me with a stunned look. “No, I’m not; I’m staying right here.”

Why can’t she just listen to me for once? “Elle, for once, just once, please do as I say,” I sighed.

Her face became angered. “I’m not a child, Connor, and frankly, you can’t order me around. I

thought we had this discussion already?” she said.

I didn’t want to argue with her, but she wasn’t staying in this apartment alone tonight. I noticed her

easel in the corner of the room, so I walked over to it and stared at the canvas that sat upon it, trying

to get up the nerve to say what I needed to say.

“I don’t think you should be alone tonight after the news you received, and my place has a guest

room. I would feel better knowing you weren’t alone.”

Her attitude instantly changed, and she told me to wait while she packs a bag. Sitting on the easel

was an unfinished painting of the bride and groom from Central Park. Even though it sat unfinished,

the scene before me was breathtaking. I could look at the couple in the painting and see their

happiness. The thing I’ve noticed about Ellery’s paintings is that she knows how to capture the

present emotion of her subjects. I wondered what a portrait of me would look like if she painted one.

As Ellery returned, I smiled at her, grabbed her bag, and we headed out the door.

She sat in the limo next me and stared out the window. I made a phone call to Paul and rescheduled

our meeting. She turned and looked at me.

“You shouldn’t have cancelled your meeting for me, Connor,” she softly spoke.

I put my arm around her, “My meeting can wait.” She laid her on my chest, and it felt good to have

her there.

***

We arrived at the penthouse, and I took her bag up to the guest room. When I came back

downstairs, I noticed her staring at the black and white photographs that were hanging on the wall.

When I told her I took them, she seemed very surprised. She proceeded to ask me if I decorated the

penthouse. I could tell the more we talked, the better she felt. I told her about my sister, Cassidy, and

she was shocked again. I guess it’s because I’ve never talked about anything or anyone in my personal

life. I headed over to the bar.

“Drink?” I asked her.

“Shot of Jack, please,” she said. My eyes widened as I looked at her.

“Are you sure?” I asked in disbelief.

“Does that surprise you?” she laughed.

I reached for a shot glass as she made herself comfortable on the bar stool. “It doesn’t, well, maybe

it does; I just don’t know any women who do shots of Jack Daniels straight.”

“You do now,” she said as she threw back