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‘I have some work to do,’ Larenzo said as he rose from the table. ‘I’ll give Ava a bath and put her to bed, and then I’ll go to my study.’
Emma nodded, accepting the rebuff, and watched as Larenzo took Ava from her high chair. She felt as if she’d just ruined whatever they’d been building together, which showed, she supposed, just how fragile it really was.
She didn’t see Larenzo again that night, and the next morning he left for the office as soon as she’d come into the kitchen for breakfast. As soon as he’d gone Emma sank into a chair, Ava on her lap, and indulged in a few minutes of wretched self-pity. Larenzo had completely withdrawn from her, and she knew now she’d told him about Meghan’s concerns because she’d wanted him to dispel them. She’d wanted him to tell her how glad he was that they were friendly with one another, and even more than that. That he was starting to care.
But her gamble hadn’t worked, because obviously Larenzo didn’t feel the way she did. At all.
She straightened, forcing the sadness back, and reached for her phone to call Meghan and tell her she’d be happy to come for Thanksgiving.
That night she told Larenzo, keeping her voice as cool as his had been, that she’d be going to see her sister for the holiday weekend, leaving Wednesday and coming back on Saturday. She didn’t ask if it would be all right.
His eyes narrowed as he gazed at her. ‘Four days? That seems excessive.’
‘Thanksgiving is an important holiday,’ she answered. ‘For family,’ she emphasised, wanting in that moment to hurt him, but Larenzo’s face remained expressionless.
‘I see,’ he said as he took a sip of his after-dinner coffee. ‘I wouldn’t know. Very well,’ he finally said. ‘I suppose you can go.’
Stung, Emma flung back at him, ‘I wasn’t asking your permission.’
‘Even so, I am giving it,’ Larenzo answered evenly. ‘We are equal in Ava’s guardianship and care, Emma.’
‘Not legally—’
His eyes flashed and he put one hand flat on the table in a gesture that was controlled and yet somehow communicated a sense of great anger, only barely leashed. ‘Are you threatening me?’
‘No, of course not,’ she backtracked, colour rising into her face. ‘I only meant that we don’t actually have a formal arrangement—’
‘Then I will put one in place immediately. We can consult my lawyer on Monday.’
‘I already consulted a lawyer,’ Emma retorted before she could think better of it, and Larenzo went even more still.
‘Did you? How...interesting.’
She searched his face, empty of expression as it was, for some flicker of emotion, some sense that he cared at all, and found nothing. Had Meghan been right? Had he been manipulating her with those forays into friendliness? Considering how completely he’d cut her off now, it seemed all too possible.
‘We leave tomorrow morning,’ Emma said, and without waiting for a reply she left the room.
Thanksgiving was miserable. She tried to enter into the spirit of the holiday, making handprint turkeys with Ryan and helping Meghan with the pumpkin pie, but everything in her felt weighed down, as if she could barely put one foot in front of the other. Meghan, of course, noticed.
‘You really do care about him,’ she said quietly, when it was just the two of them on the night of Thanksgiving. The turkey had been eaten, the dishes washed and dried, the children put to bed. Pete was upstairs reading stories to Ryan as Emma and Meghan enjoyed a glass of wine in the playroom, curled up on opposite ends of the sofa.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Emma answered listlessly.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I told him what you’d said, more or less, and he withdrew completely. We used to spend the evenings together, eat meals as a—well, together.’ She swallowed past the lump that was steadily forming in her throat. ‘Now I barely see him.’
‘Now, that’s interesting.’
Emma looked up from her moody contemplation of her glass of wine. ‘Oh? How so?’
Meghan sighed. ‘It shows he has a sense of honour,’ she said. ‘Maybe.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That he would see the importance of family to you. That he would respect someone else’s wishes.’ She sighed again, shaking her head. ‘I don’t know. Ever since I spoke to you I’ve been regretting what I said. Maybe I was too harsh, but I’m just so afraid for you, Emma.’
