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‘Yes, maybe by Christmas.’ Which was only a few weeks away. Emma turned back to the eggs and a silence stretched between them, one that was not precisely uncomfortable, but not comfortable either. She didn’t know what it was...or what was happening between them.
‘Emma,’ Larenzo said finally, and she braced herself against that tone.
‘Don’t,’ she said softly, her back to him as she stared down at the mess of eggs. ‘Don’t try to let me down easily, Larenzo. Not after last night. Not after everything.’
She heard him sigh, a long, weary sound. ‘I’m grateful for last night,’ he said. ‘For...for everything.’
‘But?’ she prompted, and heard how her voice wavered. She didn’t wait for him to tell her. ‘Let me guess. But you don’t have anything to give because you’ve been too hurt. You can’t trust anyone. You’re not looking for a relationship. Yada-yada-yada.’
Larenzo didn’t answer and Emma forced herself to turn around. She could feel the tears start in her eyes and she blinked them back, determined to be angry instead of afraid. Strong instead of weak. ‘Am I right?’
‘A few weeks ago,’ Larenzo said slowly. ‘A few days ago, even, you were right.’
The first frail thread of hope began to unspool inside her soul. ‘But?’ she prompted again, and this time she waited.
‘But I don’t want to live my life in an emotional void. Perhaps I needed that for a while, after everything. It was a way of protecting myself, I suppose. Of...healing.’
‘You’re a regular armadillo,’ she managed to tease, and he offered the most wonderful, crooked smile.
‘That’s me.’ He didn’t say anything more and Emma drew in a deep breath.
‘Larenzo, are you telling me, in your awkward, emotionally stunted way, that you actually want to try something? With me? A relationship?’
He rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Yes, in my—what was it? Awkward, emotionally stunted way, I am.’
With a laugh Emma rushed into his arms. Ava, clinging to a kitchen cupboard, regarded them both curiously as Emma buried her face in Larenzo’s shirt and tried not to weep. ‘I’m just happy,’ she said with a trembling laugh and a sniff, and Larenzo stroked her hair.
‘I am too,’ he said, and he sounded wondering. ‘But, Emma, the other stuff still applies. I don’t...I don’t know how much I have in me. I still don’t feel...’ He paused, searching for words, and Emma waited. ‘Like a whole man. As if I’ve truly put the past behind me.’
‘You’ve taken steps,’ Emma answered firmly. ‘That’s the important thing, Larenzo. You can’t expect everything to fall into place all at once. But it will.’ She believed that absolutely. ‘It will.’
He nodded, still looking doubtful, and she continued, ‘And the past will always be there. You can’t forget it. You can only learn to live with it.’
‘With your help,’ Larenzo said, and put his arms around her. Emma couldn’t remember when she’d felt so happy, so joyful.
‘Now I know what the woman in the photo feels like,’ she said and Larenzo smiled faintly before kissing her lips.
‘So do I.’
* * *
They had nearly three weeks of that joy. Things went on the same in many ways; Larenzo still worked, and Emma still stayed at home with Ava. But everything felt different. Everything was different, because they were a family now, in every sense.
Larenzo kissed her the moment he got home from work, and Ava squealed to be picked up. They spent the evenings together, watching a DVD or playing a game or just chatting; sometimes they would sit on the sofa, Emma’s feet in Larenzo’s lap while he worked and she studied the photographs she’d taken that day.
Her creativity had exploded along with her joy; suddenly she saw pictures everywhere, and she spent many crisp wintry days trawling the city streets with Ava in tow, snapping photos and capturing moments. So many wonderful moments.
‘You really should try to exhibit these,’ Larenzo said when she showed him her latest round of photos, candids of various people around the city who had been happy to have their picture taken.
‘I wouldn’t even know how to begin,’ Emma answered. ‘But I’ll think about it. I’m just happy to be feeling creative again. I felt dormant for so long, just struggling through each day.’
‘I know how that feels.’
