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Anger flared inside her at the man beside her for not loving her enough to want her to stay. Anger at fate that the baby she’d loved and wanted had been snatched away, too.
Anger mixed with grief so intense she thought she might shrivel up and die.
She wanted out of the church.
Lucas hugged her to him.
She didn’t want his hug. Didn’t want his comfort.
“Do you want to leave?” he whispered close to her ear.
She shook her head.
Not that she didn’t want to leave. She did. Just that she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her. If she collapsed to the floor, that would cause a scene at the boy’s funeral. She wasn’t willing to risk that.
“Emily?” Lucas whispered, obviously not understanding. He couldn’t understand. Guilt hit her. But why feel guilty? There had been nothing to be gained by telling him. Knowing would have only possibly hurt him, too. Despite all her pain, she hadn’t wanted Lucas to hurt.
She’d kept the pain all to herself.
Shaking her head, she held up her hand, silencing him.
His expression was worried. His arm tightened around her body.
The glass house Emily had been living inside for the past five years cracked, then shattered all around her as grief she’d kept buried burst free and let loose an explosion of emotions.
* * *
The funeral service ended and Lucas let out a sigh of relief. Had he known how upset attending was going to make Emily, he’d never have asked her to go with him.
He felt horrible that he’d subjected her to the funeral and helpless as she’d silently sobbed.
Had she never been to a funeral before? Perhaps not. He’d only been to a handful. His grandparents. A few family friends. A few patients. None had ever affected him the way Emily mourned for a child she hadn’t known. Maybe that said something about the way he viewed life, viewed death. Or maybe it was more a sign of how she viewed those things. Emily had a big heart, always had.
“Excuse me,” she said. She stood and made her way out of the chapel without a backward glance.
Watching her go, Lucas still battled confusion. Losing a patient was hard, especially such a senseless death as the young boy’s had been. At least the hit-and-run taxi driver had been caught and arrested.
No matter how he tried, Lucas couldn’t understand Emily’s quiet sobs. He’d spent most of the service trying to figure out why she was so upset, but kept coming up with more questions.
Then again, he’d never understood her tears.
That she was gone from outside the church entrance didn’t surprise him.
She’d told him to leave her alone, and he would. But he needed to make sure she was okay from the emotional beating she’d endured during the funeral.
His heart ached. How was he supposed to ignore how her body had silently shaken with tears? How was he supposed to walk away with that having been the last time he’d touched her?
He needed to tell her how he felt. Even if it was only for her to laugh and reject him and tell him to leave, he owed it to Emily and to himself to tell her everything.
That was when he saw her, standing several hundred yards down the street. Apparently, she’d taken off walking, then decided to wait on a taxi when she’d recalled how far away they were from her apartment.
Even from the distance, he could tell she still cried.
He flagged down a taxi, got inside and then had the driver pull over to pick up Emily.
She got inside and pulled the door closed.
Lucas told the driver the address to Emily’s place. She glanced up at him, obviously startled to see him inside the cab. Had she been so upset that she hadn’t realized he was there?
