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She seems to sense something, and her eyes sparkle with unshed tears.
I like her a lot. Hell, I might even love her. But I can’t have her.
“Thank you for being here,” I say, hearing the sharp edge of my words.
“Of course.” She sounds almost confused, but calm and relaxed as she approaches the other side of my father and reaches out to touch his shoulder. “He is stubborn, but fair.”
I want to point out that he loved her more than me at points, but there’s nothing to be gained from that honesty. I don’t want to hold onto the painful moments. I want to hold onto the good that I remember from him, not the moments that hurt.
And I worry that Emma might expose some of his secrets. The less than savory things that I know she’s privy to. I don’t want her to destroy everything he worked for, everything he sacrificed for, everything he’s leaving to me.
“Family secrets don’t leave this room,” I say, looking down at him again.
“Of course.” She sounds surprised again. “You don’t think I’m a threat, do you?”
I glance up at her but say nothing.
“I’ve always been loyal to Anton. Just because of what happened,” she blushes as she speaks, “between us doesn't mean I’m any less loyal to him, the firm, or you.”
I trust her words and something in me relaxes.
“You know we can’t... anymore, right?” I say, hoping she can piece together my meaning. We can’t be together anymore.
“This changes nothing for me,” she says softly, and I hear the hurt in her voice.
Every bit of me yearns, reaching out to her internally, even as I keep tight control over my body and movements. I need to put distance between us. “I can’t take over for him and break the rules of the company.” I can’t get much clearer than that.
Her chin jerks up, her lips part and she sucks in a gasp of air as she stares at me. I sense she wants to speak, but no words come as she studies me like I’ve struck her.
“Of course,” she whispers finally.
Deep down she has to know we can't have each other and that we can't be together.
I look at my father and wonder what he would say. Would he tell me to follow my heart or follow my head? I have no doubt that he would tell me to pick duty over something silly and inconsequential as love. In a battle of happiness or success, success always wins in his mind.
Still some part of me wants to change the answer and I don't know what to do. I've already made my decision and there’s no going back... no matter how much I might want to.
Chapter Eighteen
Emma
I stare at Clifton, hoping he'll say something. Anything. But he just looks away, avoiding my gaze.
I can’t help but think he's shutting me down, and it hurts.
I really like him, and I actually feel like we could make things work, but this monkey wrench has really wrecked our chances.
I also know he's going through a lot, enough that I don’t expect him to be in a clear state of mind or able to make solid judgment calls.
I mean, his father is in critical condition, he might be watching him die, and he has to take over his father’s firm. That’s a lot of pressure for anyone, and enough uncertainty that I'd probably feel crushed under the weight of it all.
The last thing he needs is for me to add any stress to his already strained psyche.
“I’m here for you, if you need me,” I say softly, but I’m not sure he’s listening or can hear me. He’s a million miles away in his own mind, and I don’t blame him for not being present.
I want to tell him that I care about him and I'm happy to help with whatever he needs. Instead, I say, “Call or text anytime, for any reason. You’re my friend and I’m on your side.”
But he doesn't respond. He doesn't say anything at all. The man I’d shared magical moments with doesn't even look at me. Instead, he gives a nod and studies his father.
