Sometimes he loves me

Chapter 8

EMMA

When I arrive back on campus, Vincent is sitting behind the small desk in my room. It is funny to see him like that, I'm used to the big one he always sits behind in his office in New York. A smile appears on my face when I see that he has taken a short break from work to hang up the decorative lighting we bought yesterday.

He leans back in the desk chair, calling with - I suspect - some business partner. But it can also be his father, with whom he both speaks in a formal manner. I smile at him and want to walk over to him for a kiss, but he waves for me to stop and wait until he finishes his call. Instead I put my bag on the floor next to me as quietly as possible and wait.

After a few minutes he ends the phone call, gets up and walks over to me. "Hey babe. How was your day?" he asks as he plants a series of kisses on my cheek and neck. I start to giggle at his good mood and tickling lips. He's in a better mood than this morning.

"It was awesome." I continue to enthusiastically tell him about the classes, the school, the teachers and my schedule for the next semester. I can't wait for the moment we finally start fixing up cars.

When Vincent's phone vibrates in his pocket he loses his attention and takes it out to check the message.
"Mh-hm, nice babe." He tries to sound interested, but I can see he's not listening anymore, so I stop talking. There's little point in telling my story if he doesn't listen.

"Do you want to go for a walk? The weather is nice." I ask softly.

"Sorry Em, but I have a few more phone calls to make for my dad. He is on that business trip and you know how busy it is these months." he replies with a sigh.

I try to be understanding. I know he's busy with his company in New York, while his father has his hands full with their office in London. I love how his dad trusts Vincent enough to take care of everything in New York, despite the fact that he's only 22. He's so mature for his age, it gives me butterflies every time I think about it.

They look alike, Vincent and his father, both dressed in suits every day and both hard workers. His mother once told me how Vincent always wanted to be the best at everything, even in kindergarten. I laugh to myself when I think back to those stories. I haven't seen them in a while. I should really visit them soon.

"I think I'll just go do my laundry so you can finish your work. Can we go for a walk when you're done?" I ask.

"Sure babe, I promise."

When I pick up my bag my heart stops. The sweatpants, which I had completely forgotten about, hang a bit from my bag. How could I forget those fucking sweatpants! I should have returned them when I saw him in class, but I was too busy avoiding him. Fucking stupid.

Vincent did not miss my reaction and calmly takes my bag from me. I don't even try to push the pants further into my bag as this might just make it worse. The icy look in Vincent's eyes says it all. He takes the pants out of my bag and looks at them.

"What is this?" he asks.

"Sorry I wanted to tell you..." I start with trembling hands. My fast heartbeat makes my hands clammy. I grab my necklace to calm myself. "My car broke down and then I got a lift on a motorcycle and..."
He throws the pants through my room. I let out a short scream. He grabs my arm tight and pulls me towards him, smelling my hair.

"Vincent, you're hurting me." I try to say as calmly as I can in hopes that he will let go of me. It often helps if I stay calm.

"Who have you been with today?" He asks while he continues to stare at me, his eyes full of suspicion. I know he doesn't trust me. He never has.