Page 72 of Resisting the Temptation
I spent all of yesterday worrying because for once I hadn’t had the urge to sneak out in the middle of the night. For once, I wanted to bask in the heat of another person’s body and wake up next to them.
But my heart is already too attached, and waking up to his deep morning voice, watching him go through his morning routine, knowing how he takes his coffee, and eating breakfast together like a couple would completely break me.
So I texted Kiera and asked her to pick me up. It was pure luck she was working the closing shift at the club last night and getting off at the same time I reached out, or I would’ve taken a rideshare, and I didn’t really want to do that alone at one in the morning.
Everything seemed to be fine yesterday. I thought I was just overreacting.
Until my mom called me at six this morning while I was getting ready for work to deliver the news I was anticipating but still wasn’t prepared for.
Grandpa Walter passed away in his sleep last night, the funeral will most likely be Friday. It was in his funeral plans to have the grandkids singNearer, My God, to Theeat the funeral, so I better come prepared to perform. Guess my six years of school choir will finally be put to use.
“And please, Emma,” Mom sighs. “Try to remember you’ll be in the presence of family. Of children.”
In other words:“Please cover your tattoos and take out your nose ring so no one knows you’re such a heathen.”
Now, I’m running late to work because I couldn’t stop crying long enough to get my makeup done.
Jordan was there to comfort me, and when I asked them if they would come with me to Utah, they cursed and apologized profusely because they have a conference in San Francisco this week they can’t get out of since they’re a key-note speaker. I felt like an asshole for forgetting that.
I assured them I’d be fine. It’s not their fault this happened. I’ve made the drive alone before, and I’ve faced my family my whole life. I’ll be fine.
Now, pulling into work, I take a deep breath and plaster on my mask as best I can. I’ll need to talk to Enzo about taking the rest of the week off, but I’m sure he’ll understand.
I just have to get through today and pretend like nothing’s wrong, then I can fall apart.
Chapter 34
Ben
Something’s wrong.
Emma always gets here at 8:45 a.m. on the dot. She puts her lunch in the kitchen downstairs, then comes upstairs and says good morning to the team. Once she’s in her office, she opens her blinds before sitting down at her computer and making a list of the things she needs to get done for the day.
Today, she didn’t get here until 9:05 a.m. I’m assuming she didn’t bring lunch because she didn’t stop in the kitchen before coming up. It wouldn’t be odd if she had a lunch meeting, but I checked her calendar this morning, and her schedule is wide open. She didn’t say anything to anyone this morning, either. Just kept her head down and scurried to her office.
When I’m positive she’s engrossed in her morning planning, I assess how she looks. Her curly hair is pulled back into a braid, which isn’t unusual, but the puffinessof her eyes, lack of makeup, and tinge of redness to her nose is.
She’s been crying. A lot, from what I can tell.
Was she crying over me?
Before I can get up to say something, Papàwalks into her office and closes the door. They don’t turn the glass opaque, so I watch them talk, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. I’ve never wished to be a fly on the wall, but I find myself wishing for it right now.
Get a hold of yourself.
I pretend to type while I watch out of the corner of my eye. Emma keeps wiping away tears as they fall, but I can tell she’s trying to keep a bright smile on her face. Papà leans over and takes her hands in his while he talks. She nods at whatever he’s saying, then they both stand, andPapà wraps her in a big hug.
I shouldn’t be jealous my father is comforting the woman I’m falling in love with, but I am.
I want Emma to come tomefor comfort.To trustmewith the things that bother her.
But I’m glad Papà is there for her, even if Emma doesn’t want me to be.
When Papà leaves her office, he shuts the door behind him and walks across the hall to my office and closes my door. Just as he sits down, I see Emma pack up her bag, shut off her light, and leave the office without saying a word to anyone.
“Where is she going?” I ask, my tone more frantic than I want it to be.
“She’s taking the rest of the week off. She has a family emergency and needs to be in Utah by Friday.”
