Leaving is hard.
Leaving everything you've ever known and all the people you've ever loved behind is hard.
I stared at the open trunk of my car. Macy Vanderbilt hadn't given me enough time or space to take much of anything.
So, here I am, the last of my life, crammed into two suitcases and a box of books.
My heart literally breaking but anything was better than walking down the aisle to say I do to a man who cheated on me on the morning of our wedding day while I made his kid from scratch in my belly.
Being kicked out sucks...but being with a guy like Preston Astor would have sucked forever.
I turned around after closing the trunk, ready to drive away and there was Lark dragging her own glittery duffel bag and a huge suitcase out the door in a hurry.
"Okay, I'm ready!" she announced, chipper than a clown at a kid's party. "Whooh, thirty minutes is not enough time to pack up everything important to me...but if you let me borrow your hair dryer then I think I am good"
I watched her drag it closer to my car. "Pop the trunk, would ya? We are free... finally!"
My throat closed up instantly watching her struggle to get her things in order while clutching her childhood favorite elephant.
She's just a baby...My baby. I practically raised her with Dad, her mother was too busy with shopping and girls trips to do it.
This part is gonna hurt.
"Larkie, honey" I exhaled. "You're not going with me."
Her smile didn't just fade at once, it went gradually and so did my heart.
"You're not..." She said in disbelief "Emmy, you're not seriously leaving me behind, are you?" Her voice was small, a little girl's. She took a step closer to me to whisper...
"You are not leaving me here all by myself with the Grandwitch and her coven, are you?. You're my big sister, you wouldn't do that?" She grabbed my hand. "Take me with you. Emilia"
I fought my own tears, hard. I walked over and pulled her into a tight hug, breathing in the sweet, familiar scent of her shampoo. "I love you" I whispered into her hair.
"Please... Please, don't leave me here. Please"
I pulled back, cupping her face. "I will come back for you, okay?"
She was crying now. Tears streaming down her face like she was three again and looking for bubba, her favorite elephant.
"I will come back for you. Do you believe me?" I asked her.
She nodded vigorously. More tears rushed down her face.
"You are meant for greatness, Lark. You are going to stay here. You're going to finish high school... Then I'm gonna come get you, okay?"
"Swear it. You will come, won't you?" she asked in this teary voice that broke my heart.
"On my mother, sweet girl" I exhaled. "I'm going to get you out "
"I'm going to miss you so much, Emmy" she cried, throwing her arms around my neck again.
"I love you," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I love you. Two years, okay? I will be back to get you"
I forced myself to pull away and walk to the driver's door. If I don't drive away, I will start crying and I wouldn't even know how to stop.
"Aren't you going to say goodbye to Daddy?" she asked me.
I stopped, my hand on the cold handle. "I can't." I looked back at her and smiled. "He's crazier than you. He might just snap and murder Grandwitch. Or worse, he'd take my side, and then Jack and you would lose everything. You know we can't. Jack has his heart problems. Believe it or not, we need the family trust to keep him alive."
I got in and started the car. I rolled down the window and gave her my best bravest smile.
"Two years" she nodded.
"Yes, two years" I nodded myself. "And Lark, you are the big sister, now. You will look out for Jack, won't you? And Dad? Make sure he doesn't worry too much?"
"I will." More tears fell down her cheek but she smiled through it "It's okay, I get this. I'm Lark Vanderbilt"
She came closer and gave me her wallet. "Take it. I have some cash in there"
"Come on, I'm not gonna take your money. And don't look so glum. I'm not poor-poor. I have my savings and my book money. I'm actually okay, Lark. I may no longer be an heiress, but I'm not destitute either."
Lark leaned in, kissed my cheek, and toss the wallet inside the car, when she pulled away, her eyes were fixed behind me. I followed her gaze. Grandmother was standing in the doorway, watching like a stone statue.
"It's okay. Go inside" I told her.
Lark turned and walked right up to her. I saw her say the words, clear as day: "The first thing I'm going to do when you're dead is throw a fucking party."
Marcy Vanderbilt didn't say a word. She just stood there, her cold eyes on me, as I put the car in drive and pulled away from the only home I'd ever known. Exiled.
---
I drove to a nice hotel, my hands still shaking. I needed one night of peace, one night to break down in a clean, safe space. A night to grief.
The receptionist was kind and she almost finished checking me in when the manager appeared.
He whispering in her ear and just like that the receptionist's smile turned nervous. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. It seems we have no rooms available after all."
"But you were just about to give me a key" I reminded her.
"I'm real sorry, ma'am–" she was interrupted by the ringing phone.
The receptionist picked it up, listened, and then, she held it out to me. "It's for you."
I took the receiver, I wondered who it was.
"This is Emmy"
"Leave my city." It was Grandmother. "You won't find help here."
The line went dead.
Of course.
Of course she would put a blanket warning to all the hotels to stop them from giving me a place to rest. Of course she was that petty and cold hearted.
Of course! She was Macy Vanderbilt and she was a bitch!
New York was her personal backyard and now, she was showing me just how powerful she really was.
And so, I left quietly. She can have the highest...I will simply find the lows.
I drove around a while before I found a cheap, creepy motel on the edge of the city.
The sign flickered, and the air smelled like stale cigarettes. This was a very good place to get syphilis.
I was pulling my suitcase from the trunk when a voice made me jump.
"Emilia."
It was Preston. He was leaning against a sleek, black car, holding a white envelope. He'd been following me it seems - where was a well timed missile strike when you need one.
"What do you want, Preston?"
"You," he said, simple and sure. He walked toward me. The nerve on the bastard was infuriating.
"Come back when hell freezes over." I told him and dragged the bags out of the trunk.
"Aren't you're done throwing your tantrum? it's time to come home. I made a deal with your grandmother. All will be forgiven if you tell the press it was a prank. We'll be back together. It will be like it never happened"
"I would rather dig up my dead mother and use her skull as a baseball, Preston"
"Think, Emilia!" he yelled, his patience snapping. "Think about your future! Our baby's future! It's only going to get worse! You can't embarrass families like yours and mine without consequences!"
"Go away, Preston" I whispered.
I wanted him to fuck off.
But he grabbed my shoulders and shook me. Hard. "No one else is coming to save you. I'm here. Take the help I'm offering" he said. his face close to mine.
"No, thank you" I whispered again.
"There's no knight in shining armor! This isn't one of your goddamn books, Emilia! No one is coming to your rescue on a fucking white horse."
"I KNOW!" I screamed at him. "I know, Preston! I know because you were supposed to be my knight in shining armor. You were supposed to rescue me. I fucking loved you and you slept with your cousin, you despicable raccoon!" I screamed in his face, the tears kept trying to come out but I kept it back.
"Lower your goddamn voice, Emilia!"
"Get out" He tried to touch me, I took a step back. "Preston, I mean it go away"
I hated him. I wanted him to choke on something and die a painful death. I wanted the stupid son of a bitch, to suffer.
"No one else is coming, Emilia. No one else." His voice echoed in the empty car park. "No one else will want you. I mean look at you. Useless in the bedroom, and bloated on the outside. I'm your only option"
His words were like bullets, they wrecked havoc in me, and I bled so bad but I wouldn't let him see me fall apart.
"You are nothing, Emilia, without the last name Vanderbilt and without me" he said, his voice calmer now, sure of his win. He slipped the envelope into my coat pocket. "When you've had enough, call me. I'll take you back. For the baby's sake."
He walked away, and I watched him go. My entire body shook, visibly... uncontrollably.
As if on cue, the sky opened up. Cold rain began to pour down.
In the motel reception, I tried to use my personal card, but it was declined. Of course. Marcy Vanderbilt was anything if not thorough.
I pulled out Lark's wallet, my hands shaking, and paid.
All the time, Preston's voice echoed in my head - no one's coming.
Grandmother's voice echoed - you will find no help here.
No one was coming.
The boy at the counter handed me a key, not meeting my eyes and I walked away.
The room was worse than I imagined. There were stains on the carpet, a sour smell in the air, the wallpaper was peeling.
I curled up on the dirty couch, pulled my legs up to rest my chin on. And it hit me.
No one was coming.
And then, there was a knock on the door. Preston. He'd probably come back to gloat some more.
Angry, I yanked the door open, ready to scream at him.
But it wasn't Preston.
Carson stood there, soaked to the bone, rain plastering his hair to his forehead. He was holding the potted fern from my grandmother's house.
"I stole the fern," he said.
I stared at him, and then this sobs tore out of me. My whole body shook.
He looked down at the plant, confused. "It's okay," he said softly, dropping the fern on the wet concrete. "I can take it back."
That only made me cry more. I couldn't stop. I hugged my arms around myself, falling apart completely.
He didn't say another word. He just stepped forward and pulled me into his arms. I buried my face in his wet shirt, my body shaking.
It was the first time I cried since the night my mother died seventeen years ago.
I don't if husbands who steals fern counts but somebody came.
SOMEONE CAME