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And yet what was Meghan really asking her? To walk away from Larenzo? Her sister knew she couldn’t, not even if she wanted to, and she didn’t want to.
Which led her to the sinking realisation that whatever she had with Larenzo was neither real nor lasting. He’d made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t interested in a relationship, had no time for either trust or love. Never mind that this attraction snapped between them, or that they’d actually enjoyed each other’s company. Fundamentally Larenzo couldn’t change. He’d acknowledged that himself. He’d never changed his position on looking for a relationship, and she didn’t think he ever would.
If Emma was smart, she’d do what her sister suggested and keep at least an emotional distance from Larenzo. She’d even start thinking about moving out, finding her own place, her own life. She and Larenzo could come to a custody arrangement as she’d originally suggested. That was the sensible thing to do, the only thing to do, and yet everything in Emma resisted.
Which was incredibly stupid, because she knew what it was like to care about someone more than they cared about you. To have someone walk away. Better to walk away first, to be that strong.
* * *
‘So are you going to tell me what’s bothering you now?’ Larenzo asked that evening at dinner. His voice was mild, but she felt the steel underneath his words. He didn’t like her having secrets.
Emma pushed the pasta around on her plate. ‘How do you know anything’s bothering me?’
‘Because you’re a naturally cheerful person. You have this...’ Larenzo gestured with his hand ‘...glow about you.’
Emma looked up, her heart lightening ridiculously at his words. ‘Glow?’
‘You light up a room.’ As if realising he’d said too much, Larenzo turned back to his meal. ‘So I can tell when you’re not yourself.’ He paused, taking a sip of wine. ‘You weren’t yourself when I first came to your sister’s house, but I think in the weeks since then you’ve gained some of your glow back. For lack of a better word.’ He looked up with a faint smile, although his eyes were still shadowed.
‘Moving to New York was good for me,’ Emma admitted.
‘Despite your initial reserve,’ Larenzo stated dryly.
‘Don’t rub it in.’ She toyed with her pasta some more, choosing her words with care. ‘I do want to thank you, Larenzo, for giving me this opportunity. I was stuck in a rut living at Meghan’s, and I didn’t even realise how deep it had become until I left.’
He nodded, and Emma knew now would be the perfect time to tell him she was ready to move on to the next phase of her life, and find her own place. A real job. The words didn’t come.
‘Emma?’ he prompted, because he could clearly see there was more she wanted to say. Needed to say.
‘I spoke with my sister when I visited her,’ she finally said. ‘She’s...not pleased about me being here.’
‘I knew that.’
‘I mean, really not pleased. She feels I’m becoming...’ She hesitated, not wanting to reveal what she was starting to feel for Larenzo yet needing to tell him something of what was going on both with Meghan and in her own heart. ‘Too friendly with you,’ she finally said.
‘A certain amount of friendliness between us is surely beneficial to Ava,’ Larenzo answered coolly. Emma could already see how he was shutting down, his silvery eyes turning to blank screens, his mouth compressing. Even the temperature in the room seemed to have dropped.
‘I think so,’ she answered, ‘but my sister doesn’t.’
‘So what does she want you to do?’
‘Maintain a little distance, I guess,’ Emma answered after a pause. ‘Keep things...businesslike.’ Meghan hadn’t said as much, but Emma knew her sister would be pleased if she kept her arrangement with Larenzo as simply that: an arrangement.
‘If that’s what you prefer,’ he said in a clipped voice. ‘I suppose it’s reasonable.’
‘You do?’ She struggled to keep the hurt from her voice. Just like that, he was going to abandon their evenings playing chess, their precious time together with Ava?
‘The most important thing is that we both have a strong and loving relationship to Ava,’ Larenzo answered with a shrug. ‘I don’t suppose it matters what we do or don’t feel for each other.’
‘Right,’ Emma answered numbly. ‘Of course.’
