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I pulled her close, stroking her hair and making soothing noises as she cried in my arms, the sounds like some dying animal. My hardened heart softened a fraction, and I wondered what she wasn’t telling me.
I let her cry herself out until, eventually, she pushed against me, and I released her. Still, she avoided my eyes, and I sensed she didn’t want to talk about it.
My curiosity screamed to ask for more, but she was too fucking fragile right now. Later, I’d try. Because something was fucking hurting her, and I didn’t like it.
“What should I call you, then? Millie doesn’t seem quite right.”
She frowned as she wiped away the last of her tears. “Why would you say that?”
“Honestly? It makes me think of some old aunt, with gray hair and a collection of dog statues, knitting an ugly scarf in a room full of plastic-covered furniture.”
Her lips twitched, and I suddenly felt like a fucking hero. “What kind of books are you reading to make you think that?”
“You remember that I like to read?”
She nodded, still not meeting my gaze. “As kids, my brother complained about how…”
Her words died, and I couldn’t help but blurt, “What happened between you two, Aunt Million-Collector-Plates-on-the-Wall?”
Her eyes finally met mine. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I shrugged. “If you insist on being called Millie, I’ll keep up my Aunt Million something or other teases.”
Her lips twitched again. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I can’t say anyone’s ever called me that before, Aunt Million-Clipped-Coupons-in-a-Drawer.”
Emilia—fuck, it was what I still thought of her as—laughed, and I wanted to take a picture. She was too fucking beautiful when she laughed.
“I may have clipped a few coupons in my time.”
As she smiled at me, I itched to reach over and wipe away the last of her tears.
Instead, I clenched my fingers into fists against my thighs and asked, “Do you really prefer Millie? Or is it something you adopted to distance yourself from the past? Like it made you feel reborn or something?”
She glanced back at the picture. “At first, it was just because I missed my parents so much. I wanted to remember their voices for as long as possible and didn’t want to muddle how they said Emilia with everyone else’s voice.”
Plucking at her jeans, she remained silent.
I gently touched her arm. “And then?”
Sighing, she raised her hands and rubbed her face. “And then, well, it helped organize my life neatly into before and after.” She shook her head. “Maybe it sounds stupid, I don’t know.”
I sensed there was more to it, more that she wasn’t telling me, but I wasn’t about to push. After all, I had zero right to demand anything from her. “Then if you want me to use Millie, I will.”
She dropped her hands and frowned at me. “You say it weird.”
I adopted a fake, horrible British accent. “Millie.”
She smiled again, and my stupid heart wanted to thaw a little more.
So I quickly sealed up that bastard and focused on her words as she said, “Emmy. Try Emmy.”
“Emmy. How’s that?”
Pretending to ponder, she tapped her chin. “Try again.”
“Emmy. Emmy. Emmy. There. I said it three times. Does that mean you’ll grant me a wish? Three, if you’re being really nice?”
