Lawson nods his thanks before exiting the car and strolling inside Tryst, with Zane following, undoubtedly cursing me out for extending his shift longer than necessary.
Traffic is lighter than usual, and we arrive at our destination a little over ten minutes later.
Once I’ve parked in the garage beneath Ataraxia, I kill the engine and quickly make my way around to help Emmy out of the car.
She rises gracefully before lifting her head to find my eyes. There’s a look of determination on her beautiful face, one I’m very familiar with, and I know exactly where this conversation is headed before she opens her mouth.
With a furrowed brow and expressive eyes filled with questions, the one I’ve been waiting on is the first to leave her lips.
“Why did you leave, Ford?” My gaze bores into hers, indecision roiling within me. “I need to understandhowyou could walk away from me as though I meant nothing to you?—”
“You meanteverythingto me, Emerson Hart.” My voice drops to a growl as my control evaporates into the night air around us. “You still meaneverythingto me.”
She inhales roughly, tears glazing her eyes as five years of pent-up emotions swirl to the surface.
“And it’s because your happiness means more to me than my own—Christ, it means more to me thananyone—that’s why I broke both of our hearts five years ago. I set you free to be who you were always destined to be, and it’s been an honor and a privilege watching you live your dreams.”
She tilts her head to one side as though missing a vital point. “Butwhy…”
And so, it comes down to the crux of the matter.
The truth or a lie…
There’s only one answer, but even so, I can’t reveal her brother’s hand in it. After all, he did nothing but point out something I’d been willfully blind to.
“I realized my father’s trial would ruin all chances of living your dream. So I did the right thing.”
My voice drops to a whisper as her sadness-filled eyes watch me bear my truth. “I took the honorable path, even though it damn near killed me. But I could never fully leave. Trust mewhen I tell you I’ve been with you every step of the way, Emmy.Every.Single.Step.”
Indecision plays over her face before she nods and sidesteps around me, leaving me to jog after her with a frown.
Silence surrounds us except for the rhythmic clack of her heels on the cement floor of the parking garage as we walk toward the waiting elevator.
The car ascends, making it almost the whole way to Emmy’s penthouse when she finally speaks. “So you’re telling me that leaving me heartbroken and brimming with questions was the right thing? Thehonorablething?!”
Rage edges her voice as I meet her eyes.
“If I’d stayed for that conversation, you and I both know I would have never left. And ruined it all for you in the process.”
“And did you ever think I’d have to live with the repercussions ofyourdecisions, Ford Holloway? Because here I am, five years later, faking happiness while living in the past?—”
The words are spat from my mouth before I’ve even thought them through.
“You look happy enough with Lawson Wilde?—”
“It’s a.Fake.Relationship!” She takes the wind completely out of my sails with those four words. “It’s a media stunt forBreaking Us, which, if you’d checked the front page of the manuscript the other night, you’d know was co-written byme.”
I almost fall backward under the weight of her words as she watches me with pained eyes. “Because I needed to make sense ofwhyyou left. I needed answers, even if I was only making them up. Because while you were busy being honorable, you werebreaking us, or did that truth never so much as cross your mind?”
I stare unblinkingly at the woman opposite me. Still, as I wage an internal war against myself, Emmy takes the decision out of my hands, throwing her hands up in exasperation andmarching off toward her bedroom. Before I can even register what’s just happened, the door slams behind her, leaving me with my dick in my hand.
Fucking idiot, Holloway.
My shoulders sag as I move after her, deciding that perhaps this is for the best. She’s thawed toward me in recent days, and her newfound affability has seen me break almost all the rules I’ve spent years enforcing.
As I cross the kitchen, I take a minute to grab the carton of cherry juice, knowing she’ll undoubtedly spend the night stewing as a result of yours truly, and I double down on my determination to see this job through as nothing more than ajob.
Because Emerson Hart deserves more than the son of a convicted felon.
