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Dad looks at me, his eyes filled with sorrow. “Because there is, Princess. I might like him, but he doesn’t make you come alive. Maybe I’m biased, because I only spent three weeks with you last year, and I met him only a handful of times… but I can tell, Emilia. I want you to be so happy that it radiates around you, and with Sam, you just appear to be content. I want more for you than that, no matter how good of a guy he might be.”
“No, Daddy,” I say, trying my best to reassure him. “I love Sam. He does make me come alive. I guess I might have just been busy with work the last time you visited. He’ll be here soon, and you’ll understand then.”
Dad nods, but it doesn’t look like he believes me at all. I never knew. I had no idea that Dad was thinking any of this. I don’t want him worrying about me. When Sam gets here, I’d better make sure that he sees just how good we are together. I never really consciously thought of it, but I guess Sam most likely is the guy I’ll end up marrying. I want Dad to like him. It might be hard due to the distance, but I’d really like for Dad and Sam to develop some sort of bond. I’m my dad’s only family, so whoever I marry will definitely have to be good to Dad too. I know Sam will be great with Dad, but I’m starting to wonder if he and I are just too far away from Dad. I’m not sure I can bare to leave Dad behind to return to work in London, and I don’t know what that means for Sam and me.
Chapter 25
Emilia
I wake up exhausted on Sunday morning. I’ve been overthinking things all weekend, and I haven’t slept a wink. The longer I’m here, the more I think I want to stay. I’ll need to talk to Sam, but I don’t even know if I want to ask him to move here with me. I walk into the kitchen, irritated.
“You look cute.”
I freeze and look up to find Carter leaning back against the kitchen counter in nothing but his swim shorts, his hair still wet. He’s got a coffee cup in his hands and raises it to his lips. I hate that he looks so good. I hate that I still find him so damn attractive. Freaking Carter.
“More stolen goods, huh?” he murmurs, his eyes roaming over my body. I was so tired this morning that I stormed out in nothing but Carter’s tee. I glance down at my outfit, my cheeks heating.
Carter holds up his coffee cup for me and I take it from him gratefully. I take a huge gulp and sigh in delight. Carter chuckles and brushes my hair behind my ear. “You’re still fucking terrifying before you’ve had your coffee in the morning,” he murmurs, and I look up at him in surprise, my lips tipping up in a smile. “I feared for my life in New York, you know?”
“Shut up,” I murmur, making him laugh.
Carter takes a step closer and steals his coffee back from me, earning him a glare. “Just one sip, Minx,” he whispers. My heart still skips a beat when he calls me Minx. I didn’t think I’d ever get to hear that again.
I pull on his hand, wanting his coffee back, and he chuckles. I take the coffee from him, and Carter cages me in, his arms on either side of me. I look up at him cheekily as I take another sip of his coffee, and Carter laughs.
That’s how Dad finds us, standing in the kitchen, being petty over a cup of coffee. He grins at us, and Carter takes a step away. Dad’s eyes drop to my coffee cup, and he frowns before looking at Carter.
“I thought you said that was your cup? Every time I try to use it you throw a fit.”
I look at it — truly look at it — and my face drains of color. This… this is the same cup Carter asked me to be his girlfriend with, isn’t it? I look up at him in question, and he looks away, a slight blush tainting his cheeks. “Why do you still have this?” I whisper.
He smiles tightly and looks away, robbing me of an answer. He joins Dad on the chairs by the kitchen counter and I sigh. “You’re gonna get the chairs all wet,” I murmur, shaking my head. “Why don’t you change into something else? Something warm, maybe? You’ll catch a cold like that.”
Carter looks at me, his eyes twinkling with amusement, and shakes his head. Dad glances from me to him and smiles to himself before turning to Carter. “You’re going home for Sunday lunch?” he asks, and my heart twists painfully. Sunday lunches at the Clarkes feature in some of my best memories.
Carter nods, and Dad sighs. “Come with me,” he tells Dad. “Mom has been asking about you. I think she’s worried, and I know you miss playing cards with Dad. Why don’t you come with me?”
Dad glances at me and my heart sinks.
“Carter is right, I have missed Sunday lunch at the Clarkes. I’d really like to go, Emilia, and I’d really like it if you joined me.”
Dad looks so hopeful, so pleading. It’s been so easy to forget that he’s sick, because he never acts like it. But he is, and it’s my turn to take care of him. I nod very subtly, as though I’m scared to even commit to it. Since coming here I haven’t done anything for Dad, not anything meaningful anyway. The staff robs me of every opportunity. But this, this is something I can do for him.
I glance at Carter, my smile so tight that it feels unnatural. “If my father wishes for it, I’ll join you. I’m not certain if your mother would be happy to host me, though. If not, then I’d be very grateful if you could take him, instead.”
Carter looks worried and shakes his head. “No, Mom would love to have you. She’s been wanting to come over and speak to you, but I… I thought it might not be a good idea. Please, come.”
I nod, and that’s that. I try my best to delay as much as I can, but a couple of hours later, we’re standing in front of the Clarkes house. I consider coming up with an excuse and bailing, but I can’t. I can’t, because Dad is holding onto my hand tightly, looking more excited than I’ve seen him look in weeks.
I had no idea I’d been keeping him away from his usual routine. I didn’t come here to disrupt his life. I can manage to smile and nod for one afternoon. For Dad, I can do that.
The door opens and Helen appears, her eyes bright and excited. She greets Carter, and then Dad, before finally smiling at me. I try my best to return her smile, but I fail.
“Thank you for having me,” I tell her through gritted teeth, and she nods at me, flustered. I follow the boys in and glance around in surprise. Almost everything has changed. The entire house looks renovated. A lot of it has a similar feel to it as Carter’s house. I guess his parents probably didn’t want to move, so he did the house up instead.
Carter’s dad, William, rises from his seat when I walk in. He walks up to me and ruffles my hair, and my heart warms. He’s always been as good to me as he could be. Even towards the end he tried his best to remain impartial. I take a seat at the dining table, and I don’t even realize I’ve sat down in what used to be my usual spot here until Carter and Helen both look at me, their eyes filled with what can only be described as nostalgia. I regret it immediately. I’m not here to reminisce. I try to eat in silence, but Helen and William don’t make it easy. Both of them keep trying to involve me in the conversation, and it hurts. It hurts that they all moved on with their lives, that they all seem to be so happy after they asked me to rip my heart out for their daughter’s happiness.
I breathe a sigh of relief when my phone rings, and I excuse myself. Even a small reprieve will give me the breathing room I crave.
