CHAPTER 6;

Time seemed to slow down. Emma's breath caught in her throat as she became hyper-aware of everything, the way Marcus's fingers hovered just millimeters from hers, the slight hitch in his breathing, and the way his eyes darkened as they locked onto hers.

Neither of them moved. Neither of them pulled away.

Emma looked up slowly, and the intensity in Marcus's eyes nearly knocked her backward. Heat. Hunger. Want. It was all there, written plainly across his face.

"Emma..." Marcus's voice was rough, barely above a whisper.

Her name on his lips sent shivers down her spine. "Yes?"

For a heartbeat, she thought he might finally say it. Whatever this mysterious thing was that he'd been holding back, whatever secret had been eating at him, she thought this might be the moment he'd finally let it out.

But then the smoke alarm went off.

"Damn!" Marcus jerked back, reminding himself that she's too young, and this is wrong for him.

He began spinning toward the stove where the bacon had started to burn. He yanked the pan off the heat, waving a dish towel frantically at the ceiling-mounted alarm until it finally stopped its shrill beeping.

The spell was broken.

Emma released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, her heart hammering against her ribs.

She grabbed the knife with trembling fingers and focused very intently on slicing strawberries, even though her hands were shaking so badly she was probably a danger to herself.

Suddenly, Marcus's phone rang on the table. He grabbed the phone and went outside as he answered the call before coming back.

Emma sat down, her heart pounding. “What is he hiding from me…?”

"Sorry about that," Marcus interrupted her, thinking, scraping the burnt bacon into the trash. "Got a little distracted."

"It's fine. Happens to everyone."

They finished preparing breakfast in silence, but it was a different kind of quiet now. Not comfortable, but charged. Loaded with things neither of them seemed brave enough to say.

When they finally sat down to eat, Emma picked at her pancakes, barely tasting them despite the fact that they were probably delicious. Across the table, Marcus seemed equally distracted, pushing food around his plate without much interest in actually eating it.

"These are really good," Emma offered, trying to break the awkward tension.

"Thanks."

More silence.

Emma took a sip of orange juice, then set the glass down with more force than necessary. The sharp clink against the table made Marcus look up.

"Okay," she said, her patience finally snapping. "Are we really going to do this?"

Marcus blinked. "Do what?"

"This." She gestured between them. "Sit here and pretend everything's normal when we both know it's not. You said you needed to tell me something, Marcus. Yesterday, you started to say something, and then you just... stopped."

His jaw tightened. "Emma—"

"No, don't 'Emma' me. I barely slept last night, thinking about what you might need to tell me. My brain came up with about a thousand different scenarios, each one worse than the last. So please, just... just say it. Whatever it is, it can't be worse than not knowing."

Marcus set down his fork, running a hand through his hair in that way he always did when he was stressed. "You're right. You deserve to know."

Emma's heart began to race. "Okay. So tell me."

He looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady but quiet. "Do you remember Sarah?"

The name hit Emma like a physical blow. Sarah. Of course, she remembered Sarah. Marcus's ex-close neighbour. The beautiful, sophisticated woman he'd dated for three years before they'd broken up six months ago.

"Yes," Emma said carefully. "What about her?"

Marcus took a deep breath. "She called me. Two days ago."

Emma's stomach dropped. "And?"

"And she wants to meet. Says she has something important to tell me. Something that can't wait."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and ominous.

Emma felt like the ground had suddenly shifted beneath her feet. "What... what do you think she wants?"

Marcus met her eyes, and in his gaze, Emma saw fear, confusion, and something else she couldn't quite identify.

"I think," he said slowly, "She said she wants to visit me ." Emma blinked.

Emma's heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. "Visit you?"

Marcus looked away and hesitated for a moment. “Yes.” He managed to say as his Voice cracked.

The world seemed to tilt sideways.

Emma looked at Marcus. “And what did you say?”