Regret: Volume Two of Ebb & Flow [Psychological Superpowered Thriller]

11 hours till Friendsgiving

My alarm goes off, Emma groaning from next to me. We stayed up till three thirty, going over the dos and don'ts of the party. But it was necessary to make sure she doesn't slip up today. I wipe my arm across my face, rubbing my eyes as I struggle to force myself out of bed: seven thirty, only four hours of sleep. Conquering the comfortable temperature of my comforter, I shut the alarm off.

"Alright, I've got to get up and start going; feel free to stay here and sleep in. People aren't arriving till around seven, so you have plenty of time," I said quietly.

"You're still willing to let me go, even though Violet is telling people you two were dating?" Emma asked, blinking away the sleep.

"It's one thing to eavesdrop; it's another thing entirely to blatantly acknowledge the eavesdropping. You could at least pretend you weren't doing it," I sighed. "But to answer your question, no, I'm not going to stop you from going because of Violet's weird behavior. I have no idea why she would lie, but it isn't a good look for her."

"You have no idea? Really? I realize that the two of us probably don't know the same Eryk, but even the brief glimpse I've had of you has sent my heart fluttering and left me smitten. It makes a lot of sense why she didn't handle rejection from you well," Emma remarked.

"You can stop waxing poetically; we both know you're lying," I said, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

"I wonder if I'm the only one in your life who gets both the blunt and the sharp sides of your tongue. What makes you believe that I don't have feelings for you? I could see myself falling for you, eventually," Emma said, propping up her head in her hands to look at me.

You quite literally are unable to fall for me; I made sure of that.

"You didn't have any complaints about my tongue last night. If you want to catch feelings, that is your prerogative. Now, I'm getting in the shower, getting dressed, and then I will be going. If you are hungry, feel free to make yourself something. Personally, I'd keep it light; dinner is going to be extravagant and overabundant," I said, stepping into my bathroom. I hope she doesn't think that this is an invitation for shower sex or something similar.

When I come out of the shower, Emma isn't asleep like I thought she would be. When she didn't follow me into the bathroom, I assumed she'd gone back to bed. Instead, she's eating an egg sandwich, sitting at the counter, and drinking coffee. She's gotten dressed, wearing the same outfit she wore last night, and that makes me realize that she has nearly no possessions. Miles told me the only things she brought with her were a duffel bag with only a couple of her clothes and her cell phone. I have not been holding up my end of the bargain very well.

"How many outfits did you bring with you?" I asked.

"A few, why?"

"Do you have one for tonight? It's not formal or anything like that, but I realized I hadn't even considered whether you had anything for the party," I said.

"I do, I'm just wearing this until I have to get ready. Don't worry, it's very cute. Oh, and appropriate. Thank you for asking; you've been really nice about the party despite the deceptive nature of how I acquired my invitation."

"I'm a lot of things, but rude is not one of them. You're my date tonight, it's natural to make sure you're taken care of," I said, moving over to my dresser.

She smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear as she takes another bite. She looks happy, far happier than when we first met. That's a real smile too, not the fake one she plasters on for strangers. All signs point to a genuine attraction to me and a lack of deception. Emma is letting her guard down around me. It could be another ploy; she proved herself capable of deceiving me back in Canada. I was able to figure it out eventually, but the fact remains that she is quite the talented manipulator. My mindset is in need of changing if I am unable to not distrust people.

"You know you can be quite kind when you want to. It is making me consider just how much I don't know about you," she said, wiping a bit of egg from her lip.

"I can be anything, depending on the situation," I responded.

"I'm excited to learn more about you later."

"You're expecting too much from tonight. You're going to be disappointed when all you learn about is the boring parts of me," I warned.

"I doubt it, but I don't want to keep you any longer. I can't wait to try your cooking and see how you chef it up."

I undo the towel around my waist and start getting dressed. Today's fit is courtesy of the shopping trip that Violet told everyone was a date—black cuffed jeans with a belt, and an untucked white button-up covered in blue Xs. Violet told me it fits me and works well, and I trust her judgment on fashion. Getting dressed reminds me that I need to decide what to do with my hair soon. Not having to style it has saved me time, but should I let it keep growing indefinitely?

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Emma gets up and puts her plate in the dishwasher before walking over toward me. She doesn't say anything to me, stepping around me and grabbing her duffel bag. Unzipping it, she begins going through it, clearly looking for something. After a few minutes of silent riffling, she pulls out a silver chain and a slate gray beanie. There's a small fuchsia heart on the beanie, which I assume is the brand, but I don't recognize it. The chain has a silver snowflake on it.

"This'll complete the outfit," she said, throwing the beanie at me.

I put it on, forcing my hair into it and solving my problem for now. I can now ignore the haircut dilemma for several more weeks. She stands on her tiptoes, unclasping the chain to put it around my neck. She's still too short to reach, so I lean over until she can. Emma backs away a few feet from me, holding her hands up like a photographer trying to decide how to frame a scene.

"Yeah, it works. You look hot," Emma said, complimenting me.

"Thank you for the beanie. But what's the chain for?"

"That's a gift, a token of my appreciation for everything. I know it isn't worth as much as the gift you got for me, but it's special to me and I want you to have it," she answered.

"I'll take good care of it," I said and found myself meaning it.

It's still surprising every time I express an emotion and find that it is real and genuine.

"Good. Do you want help transporting the ingredients to wherever they're going? It'd suck if you had to take the bus or rideshare with everything, wouldn't it?" Emma offered.

"I did not consider that. I'd happily accept a ride, but I don't think you should come with me once we're there."

"I understand completely. I'm all set to leave if you're done getting ready," she said.

"I just need one last thing," I said, going over to the cabinets below my kitchen island. I pull out my black cooking apron and my knives.

Emma's GPS takes us toward the property that Violet's family owns, and it isn't where I thought it would be. Instead of going toward the suburbs just outside the city, we're pulling into the underground garage for the Eclipse Tower. After what happened at the Crepuscolo Boutique, I knew she was wealthy, but this is another thing entirely. Violet's shock at my rent price might not have been because she thought it was too much, but because of how small my apartment is. If Regal Residences is an expensive hotel, then the Eclipse Tower is a palace.

Right smack in the middle of the financial district, the Eclipse Tower is a massive behemoth of a building. The one-hundred-story-tall skyscraper is the tallest building in the city by a large margin. A little factoid I remember is that you cannot rent space here; you have to lease it in ten-year increments. If her family owns property here, then they aren't just wealthy, they are obscenely rich—capital B billionaires. There are a few companies whose headquarters are inside the tower, as well as three Michelin-starred restaurants.

"This is the place?" Emma asked.

"Apparently so."

"So remind me why I shouldn't mention your finances? This place looks insanely freaking expensive. And you know someone who lives here?" Emma asked, shocked.

"She does not live here; her parents have a place inside the tower."

"Ah, yes, semantics, the death of conversation. Just tell me where I should park."

"Second floor, there's a spot near the elevators that Violet told me to park at," I said.

"By any chance, did you tell her I was coming with you? I know I'm not staying, but I don't want to stoke tensions just yet," she replied.

"No, I just texted her that I was on my way with all the stuff and asked her where to go."

Emma follows the white arrows on the road, taking the winding path down to the second floor. Her face is puzzling, like she wants to say something but won't. What is on her mind? There shouldn't be anything that she couldn't just bring up to me. We continue driving in silence until we reach the elevator, and directly to the right of it is a parking space with orange cones in all four corners. The number of luxury vehicles, sports cars, and exotic bikes is astounding. I guess Emma's car won't stand out. The value present in this garage might be higher than some nations' GDP. Emma pulls into the space, and I send Violet a message that I'm here.

"She'll be right down. Thank you for the ride, definitely easier than what I planned on doing," I said, getting out of the car as she pops the trunk for me.

"Do you want me to leave before she gets here?"

"No, you don't have to. Violet isn't the type to randomly fly off the handle or do anything too hasty. She's not going to have a meltdown in a public setting like this. You've done nothing wrong, besides lying, that is. Are you nervous?" I teased.

"No. Kind of? It's complicated," she admitted.

I didn't expect her to say that. The elevator dings, and Violet comes out. She's wearing white low-rise pants and open-toed heeled sandals, with a matching croptop. The top leaves her shoulders, neck, and stomach bare, with connected puffy sleeves. Violet's a confident person, but the sheer amount of skin and cleavage on display is surprising. This outfit is certainly a choice for today. She sees me unpacking the bags, and her face lights up as she rushes over. Then she spots Emma in the front seat, and I watch her joy deflate instantly. She stops a few feet from the car, staring at Emma with an emotionless face. Turning to face me, she waves.

"Hey, Eryk. I'm so happy to see you. Let me help you with all the bags so your Uber driver can leave. I'm sure she has somewhere else she'd like to be," Violet said.

"That's not my Uber driver," I said.

"Lyft, whatever," Violet corrected.

I hear Emma's door open before I see her. That isn't good. Someone who wants to avoid an awkward conflict wouldn't get out of the car. She must've been listening to us. Her enhanced hearing is only going to encourage her eavesdropping habit. Emma comes right around to the back, where Violet and I are grabbing all the stuff. She picks up one of the remaining bags, hands it to me, and then kisses me on the cheek.

"Not an Uber driver," Emma said, making an exaggerated frown at Violet. "I'm his girlfriend, Emma."