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Four
Devon
“Sorry, this will just take a second,” I reassure Emma, quickly scanning the email that’s just come through on my phone.
“It’s okay.”
I shoot back a terse reply, giving Rosh the go ahead to deal with yet another fiasco that’s arisen amidst the fallout of the leaked report, and then set my phone aside. “Sorry.”
“Everything alright?” Emma asks with a patient smile.
I offer a tight frown. “Nightmare, to tell you the truth. But we’ll sort it out.” I take a sip of my wine and resolve to give her my full attention for the rest of lunch. “So, what’s going on with you? I feel like we’ve barely spoken for days.”
She nods. “Yeah. Well, as it happens, I actually have something I need to talk to you about.”
“Go on.”
She draws in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Okay, here goes. Devon, do you want to get married?”
I blink at her in puzzlement. “What do you mean? We’re already engaged.”
She bites her lip, hesitating. “Imeando you actually want to be engaged? Are you excited to be marrying me? Are you looking forward to spending your life with me?”
“Emma…”
“Because I don’t know if I feel that way about you anymore.”
I sit back, feeling stunned. “You don’t?
She shakes her head sadly. “I don’t think so. I don’t know. I mean, we’re supposed to be getting married in two weeks. Don’t you think we should be more…connected?”
“Connected?”
“Yeah.”
“Is this about sex?” I ask, feeling a little awkward discussing the topic so openly here in this busy restaurant. I know our sex life has been a little flat lately, but that happens, doesn’t it? We’ve been together for two years, and it’s not like we were ever one of those couples who needed to jump each other’s bones every five seconds anyway.
She sighs. “Maybe a little. But it’s not only that. We just don’t seem to have time for each other anymore.”
“We’ve both been busy with work,” I point out. “And planning the wedding has been absolute chaos. Trust me, once this is all over things will settle down and we can get back to normal.”
“Once what’s over?”
“The wedding,” I say with a shrug.
“So…your plan is to just get married and hope for the best? Hope that we’ll be able to reconnect and suddenly everything will be okay?”
I stare at her in confusion. “I don’t know what else to say…”
“Devon, do you even love me?” she asks bluntly.
My mouth falls open in shock. “Emma, what kind of question is that? I’m marrying you.”
She sighs. “But are we getting married because we love each other, or because we’re supposedly so well suited?”
“I don’t—”
She shakes her head sadly. “I’m sorry, Devon, but I don’t think I love you. Not in that way. I think…I think we should call it off.”
