Page 108 of The Billionaire Boss and the Barista

It was the personality trait that had gotten her out of her hospital bed years ago, but it had some downsides too. At least for her husband.

“Why the shades?” George asked after taking what appeared to be a long and satisfying sip of her vanilla latte.

“With these, I won’t be blinded by that honeymoon afterglow.”

George snorted and pointed her spoon at her. “You realize that’s the pot calling the kettle black, right?”

Red heat crept up her neck, but she grinned and set the lunch menu she’d been holding to one side with a flourish.

“I do,” she said primly. But Emma couldn’t keep a straight face and burst into giggles.

Being on the same wavelength, George joined her. The waiter took one look at them, rolled his eyes, and decided to give them more time.

George subsided first, taking a sip of water before straightening her shoulders. “I know you said everything was good and I could go on my honeymoon with a clear conscience, so I did.”

She waved a hand to encompass Emma. “You’re obviously enjoying married life. But tell me the truth, are things okay? Are you completely satisfied with Garrett’s explanation of everything? Your past relationship? The accident?”

Emma took a deep breath and nodded. “I am. Well, as much as someone who doesn’t remember any of those things can be.”

She gave George a condensed version of everything Garrett had told her, including all the details of her accident that he knew.

“That fucking sucks,” George said when she got to the part about her phone being smashed beyond repair in the accident. “If he’d been able to get through…”

She trailed off with a wince. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be speculating. It’s in the past. The important thing is your future. I know Garrett must be thrilled to have a second chance. He came to see Rainer this morning. I’ve never seen him so smugly happy.”

Emma swallowed some of her cold brew, smiling despite the fact her throat was a bit tight. She too had played the what-if game the last few weeks. But the fact Garrett’s friends had noticed a difference in him was good.

She was collecting all these little moments, small proofs of his affection and care, hoarding them like gold coins.

Emma wrote down her bright and shiny new memories in a digital diary. It was backed up to the cloud and she printed it outtwice a week.

Just in case.

“I’m glad to hear that. I feel that same way too,” she acknowledged. “Although I can’t help waiting for the other shoe to drop. I guess I’m suspicious of happiness.”

“I get that,” George said, a flicker of an uncharacteristic world-weariness in her expression. “It’s hard to let down your guard. To trust. But it’s worth it.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. But saying and doing were two different things.

Trusting Garrett was easy. Almost effortless. But what about her? Could she trust herself?

What the hell had happened to her to push him away before the accident? What had she done?

“Hey, did you ever see Pedro again?”

“He came over for dinner while you were on your honeymoon.” She widened her eyes. “You’ll never guess who he brought with him.”

George took a bite of her chocolate croissant and wiggled her hand mid-height to indicate it was meh. “Who?”

“Hannah Cho.”

“What?” Her friend's voice was so high it broke. Clearing her throat, George hurriedly took a sip. “Really? The landlord’s daughter?”

Emma flung a hand in the air. “I guess his therapy is going well because they’re dating now.”

George tsked. “Unbelievable.”

“I know!” Life was weird. But it also explained the strange tension between those two.

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