Page 48 of A Duke Reformed
"Don't apologize for that," Emma finally said. "I would have been very upset if you had withheld that information from me."
"I know, but..." Cecilia sighed. "Perhaps, I should find a better way to handle it instead of running away from him all the time and fearing him. I'm not a child anymore. I shouldn't dwell on other people to solve my own problems."
"You should," Emma argued. "It's not something you can solve alone."
"Regardless..." she continued. "I want to support you the best way I can. If I need to get a job too, I'll get one. The onus shouldn't only be on you. It's not fair. I'll do my part. I want to."
"You don't have a part in this, Cecilia," Emma whispered. "I have everything under control."
Cecilia shook her head. "You always say that and I don't like it. You have everything under control... everything's fine. You are handling it. But look what happened today. You broke down, Emma. It's time to let me help you. I'm not a child anymore. We should be in this together. No more lies."
The dam finally broke as Emma's breath hitched. Her chest tightened, and before she could stop herself, tears began to slip down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away, but it was no use. The tears kept coming, and with them, the overwhelming flood of emotions she had been bottling up for so long.
"I'm sorry," Emma whispered through the tears. "I took my frustration out on you and Papa. I didn't mean to. I just...I'm so tired of holding everything together, and sometimes I just want to scream, but I can't."
Cecilia was quiet for a moment before she gently propped herself up on one elbow, her concern evident. "What happened, Emma? What is troubling you?"
Emma sniffed, rubbing her eyes as she tried to regain some composure. "It's nothing, really. Just..." She paused, then glanced at Cecilia. "I hurt my wrist earlier, trying to stop Phillip and Dorothy from causing chaos in the hallway and it hurts, and everything hurts and Solomon hurts..."
"Solomon hurts?" Cecilia questioned. "Whatever does that mean?"
Emma took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. She placed both hands on her stomach and shut her eyes. "I think...I think I might be attracted to the duke and I don't know what to do with it. It's not love... it can't be. But I know how this works. I don't want to feed this emotion, but how can I not when we work together?"
Emma sat up and wiped her eyes. "He's infuriating but charming, and I–" she stopped herself, a fresh wave of frustration creeping in. "It's confusing, Cecilia. I've never felt this way before, not like this. I detest being confused and having to deal with this."
The words tumbled out of her as if she couldn't stop them, a mix of relief and dread swirling in her chest. She wasn't sure what exactly she was confessing, only that she needed to say it.
Cecilia adjusted where she sat. "Does the duke know?" she questioned.
"Oh, heavens no," Emma sniffed. "It doesn't even matter. Solomon and I can never be. He's not the one I'm looking for. He isn't the kind of man I want to give me heart to so it's pointless."
Cecilia furrowed her brow. "I'm confused. Do you love him, or are you simply attracted to the man?"
"It's not love, I told you," Emma answered. "Perhaps, it's fear for what could be if I don't... control myself. I guess I'm frustrated that I am in this position in the first place," she muttered, her voice riddled with anger. "I care if he's upset with me, ifhe's happy with me... It's unfair. Everything's unfair. I was fine before all this, before the duke, before the lessons. But now, I feel like I'm being torn apart between what I want and what I'm supposed to do."
Cecilia smiled, staring at her fingers. "I know why you're so frustrated."
Emma turned to her swiftly. "What are you thinking?"
"You are used to being in control of everything, Emma," Cecilia explained. "Even your emotions. You have a plan. Who you want to marry, what that marriage would look like, and now that your heart is veering in a different direction, you are terrified because this direction might get you hurt."
"Not might. It would," Emma said. "It would go against everything I had made up my mind to do. I cannot have that."
"But how are you so sure that you haven't already fallen–"
"Don't. Say. It," Emma said curtly, looking away. "I have not. I am certain that I have not."
Cecilia turned to face her fully, her expression softening. "Are you certain you don't want to even see where this goes? To see if there might be something–"
"No," Emma answered sharply. "I don't. I have a plan for my life. No distractions. We cannot afford costly distractions."
"So, who do you want to fall in love with?" Cecilia asked, throwing both hands in the air. "If it's not a man as handsome and sought-after like the duke, who else?"
Emma let out a breathy laugh, but there was no humor in it. Her gaze drifted to the ceiling once more as she fiddled with her fingers. She wanted to tell Cecilia the truth, that love was the problem. That it was love, with its unruly emotions and aching vulnerabilities, that terrified her. Love meant losing control. It meant needing someone, and being hurt when they didn't stay. It meant expectations. Messy, unpredictable expectations. But she couldn't say all that else Cecilia would think that she had gone mad.
Instead, she shrugged lightly and murmured, "I'm just thinking long term. About what makes sense. A marriage that's steady and sensible. Something that works without all the absurd expectations or... emotional chaos. That's all I want."
"All right," Cecilia said. "I get it, Emma. I do." She reached out and placed a hand on Emma's arm, offering a comforting touch. "It's all right to put yourself first. To put what you want first. How about you take a step back? I think it's the close proximity to the duke that's making things feel more intense than they actually are. Just... breathe. Give yourself space to think clearly."
