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“I only meant that you don’t have to do this just to please me.”
“No. No, I want to go. Only—” She toyed with the stem of her glass, her stare growing darker, her shoulders slumping a couple of inches under the release of her heavy sigh. “Things are serious between us, aren’t they?”
“Have they ever not been serious?”
She released a sardonic chuckle. “You have a point.”
She turned to her board, picked up the knife, and held it poised above a stick of celery but failed to drop the blade.
He trekked his gaze to her face, and her eyelids squeezed shut as if she found herself trapped in some deep and bitter anguish. “Are you okay?”
“No. And neither are you.”
“Sorry?” He took a step forward and slid his hand over hers, prying the knife out of her fingers before turning her to face him.
Seconds ticked by as her warm chocolate stare drifted over his face, turning dazed and watery. “I thought if I waited, things would sort themselves out. I wouldn’t have to say anything. I’m sorry.”
“Emilia?”
She broke free of his hold and began pacing ahead of him, her hand thrust into the bramble of curls along her hairline. “I tried to bargain this away, tried to tell myself I’m making something out of nothing—that my life has moved on, so surely everything from back home would too.” She shook her head and snapped her attention back to him. “I thought we could just enjoy a few more hours of being a normal happy couple, but I can’t do this anymore. I don’t warrant your sympathy, Blaine. And I don’t want to keep stringing you along or pushing you away. You don’t deserve it.”
A heavy feeling dragged at his stomach. This sounded like a breakup, but he’d had no clue, no sign it was coming, especially not with all their recent breakthroughs.
Had he really read her so wrong?
“Damn it, Emilia.” His fingers dug into the counter’s edge; he wanted to reach for her but didn’t at the same time. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I hate the state of casual comfort between us, not when it’s all built on a lie.” Her gaze burned into him now, her forehead a crisscross of anguished wrinkles. “And believe me, I want more. I want to tell you the truth. But when I do, you’re going to tell me to stay away from you forever.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“You can’t say that. You don’t know what’s happened and what might happen. Heck, I’m largely in the dark now too. So before your feelings grow any deeper, I’ll understand if you want me to go. You should want me to go.”
His heart pummeled. What was she talking about?
“You’re all that I’ve ever wanted, Emilia. Trust me, I’ve tried to move on, but my feelings have never budged from you.”
“Oh, God.” She stared at him for a beat, before shaking her head and turning away, her palm pressed flat to her forehead. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked about ready to break a sweat.
He stepped forward and reached for her, but she jolted back again.
“Please don’t tell me how much I mean to you. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it.” She paced in a circle, her gaze darting in manic circles around the floor. “My freedom could end at any minute. I don’t want to spend what little time I have left running. Lying. I don’t want to disappear on you suddenly. I don’t want you to think you did something wrong. I just have a bad feeling, and this might be the only time we have left together before…”
She jerked her chin up, and she gaped at him as if she might rescind her burgeoning confession.
Frustration propelled him forward, despite her flicking him away a moment earlier. He grabbed her wrists as her red-rimmed stare locked with his. “Emilia, tell me.”
“Anthony has nothing now. Nothing but a huge reason to seek revenge. So if I’m right—and trust me, I know my ex-husband—he won’t let go of what I did to him. He’ll want to find me, Blaine. He’ll want to hurt me. He’ll be angry enough to kill me.”
