Mag-log inEMMA
I woke up to find Adrian's side of the bed already empty, which was a big relief. Downstairs, Helen was waiting in the foyer with a clipboard and three people standing behind her. "Ms. Ashford, good morning. I wanted to introduce the additional staff who'll be assisting with the holiday preparations and your business needs," Helen said, gesturing to the woman on her left. "This is Sophia Reyes, she'll be coordinating the company's Christmas gala here at the estate." Sophia stepped forward and I forgot how to breathe for a second because she was absolutely stunning. "Emma, it's wonderful to meet you," Sophia said, extending her hand and shook it. "I've heard so much about you." "All good things I hope," I managed, very aware that Sophia's thumb was brushing against my wrist before she finally let go. "Only the most interesting things," Sophia said with a smile that made my stomach flip. "I'm looking forward to working closely with you on the gala." Helen cleared her throat. "And this is Maya Bennett, she'll be your personal assistant during your time here." Maya was younger, maybe mid-twenties, with soft features and dark eyes. And when she shook my hand her cheeks immediately flushed pink. "It's an honor to work with you, Ms. Ashford," Maya said quietly, her hand trembling slightly in mine. "Please, call me Emma," I said, and watched her blush deepen. "I'm sure we'll work well together." Maya nodded quickly and pulled her hand back, clutching her tablet against her chest. "The third person is for Mr. Adrian," Helen continued. "His new security details should be arriving shortly." As if on cue, the front door opened and Adrian walked in with a man who looked like he'd stepped out of an action movie. "This is Luca Romano," Adrian said, and I caught something in his voice that sounded almost off-balance. "My new head of security." Luca was tall and broad-shouldered with dark hair cropped military short, a strong jaw shadowed with stubble, and eyes that seemed to miss nothing as they swept the room before settling back on Adrian. "Ma'am," Luca nodded at me politely before turning his attention back to Adrian. "We should discuss the security protocols for the estate." "Later," Adrian said, but I noticed how he stepped slightly away from Luca, putting distance between them. Helen dismissed everyone and I watched Sophia walk away with a sway in her hips that was definitely intentional. While Maya hurried off clutching her tablet and sneaking one last glance at me before disappearing down the hallway. ADRIAN Me and Luca were in the east wing study now minutes after Helen's dismissal. "About the security protocols," I said, sitting behind the desk and pulling up files on my laptop. "The estate has existing systems but I want everything upgraded." "Sure," Luca said, but he didn't move from the door. "Or we could talk about why you're acting like we're strangers." I looked up. "We are strangers. I hired you three days ago." "Through Dominic's recommendation," Luca pointed out, moving closer. "And he mentioned you two had history." "Dominic talks too much," I said, keeping my eyes on the screen. Luca reached my desk and planted both hands on the surface, leaning down until we were eye level. "He also mentioned you have a type." "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, but my voice came out smaller. "Sure you don't," Luca said, his eyes dropping to my mouth for a fraction of a second before meeting my gaze again. "But if you change your mind about discussing it, you know where to find me." He pushed off the desk and left, and I sat there trying to remember how to breathe normally. The door opened again and I looked up expecting Luca, but it was Dominic walking in without knocking. "Dominic, what are you doing here?" I stood, putting the desk between us. "Checking on my investment," Dominic said, closing the door and locking it slowly "We need to talk about this arrangement with your sister." "Stepsister," I corrected. "And there's nothing to talk about. It's temporary." Dominic moved around the desk and I didn't back away because that would show weakness, so I held my ground as he stepped into my space. "Temporary or not, I don't like sharing your attention," Dominic said, his hand coming up to my shoulder and sliding down my chest slowly. "We have unfinished business, Adrian, and I'm not the patient type." His fingers traced lower, skimming over my stomach, and I caught his wrist before he could go further. "Not here," I said quietly. "Emma could walk in." "Let her," Dominic said, leaning closer until his lips brushed my ear. "Maybe it's time everyone knew exactly what we are to each other." "We're business partners," I said, but my voice lacked conviction. "We're so much more than that and you know it," Dominic whispered, his free hand sliding to the small of my back and pulling me against him. "Stop pretending you don't want this." I pushed him back gently. "I said not here. We'll talk later." Dominic studied me for a long moment before smirking. "Fine. But don't make me wait too long, Adrian. I'm not as understanding as I used to be." Immediately he left, I sank into the chair, running my hands through my hair and trying to ignore the heat still burning through my body. EMMA It's 11pm already, yet I couldn't sleep, so I slipped out of bed carefully and headed to the kitchen in my pajamas. The kitchen was dark except for the little glow from under-cabinet lighting, and I was pouring myself a glass when I heard footsteps behind me. "You couldn't sleep either?" Adrian asked, and I turned to find him standing in the doorway wearing nothing but low-slung sweatpants that showed off the defined V of his hips. "Something like that," I said, taking a drink and trying not to stare. Adrian moved into the kitchen and grabbed a glass, standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his skin when I poured for him. "Your event planner is very attractive," Adrian said suddenly. I nearly choked on my wine. "What?" "Sophia," Adrian clarified, swirling his glass. "She was clearly flirting with you though." "And your bodyguard was clearly undressing you with his eyes," I countered. "So I guess we both have interesting staff." Adrian laughed and it was the first genuine sound I'd heard from him ever. "This is going to be a very strange few months." "The strangest," I agreed, and found myself smiling back at him. Adrian set down his glass and turned to face me fully. "Maybe we should establish a truce." "What kind of truce?" I asked, my heart starting to beat faster. "The kind where we stop trying to kill each other and actually attempt to coexist," Adrian said, taking a step closer. "Coexist," I repeated, watching him move into my space. "Is that what we're calling it?" "What would you call it?" Adrian asked. "Inheritance," I whispered, and then he was even closer, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. "Emma," Adrian said softly, and the way he said my name made something tighten low in my stomach. I leaned forward without thinking and he did the same, his breath warm against my lips, and then.... I jolted awake in bed, my pajamas twisted around me and a throbbing ache between my legs that made me want to fuck.EPILOGUEThe funeral for Emma Ashford was held on a Thursday in late spring, and the chapel was overflowing.Stella stood at the podium looking at the crowd and felt overwhelmed by how many lives her mother had touched."My mother would have hated this," Stella started, and heard quiet laughter ripple through the room. "She would have said it was too much fuss for one old woman. But Emma Ashford was never just one old woman."She paused, looking at her notes."Sixty-five years ago my mother was forced into a situation she didn't want. Her father's will required her to live with a stepbrother she'd never met and barely tolerated. Most people would have done the bare minimum and walked away as soon as the requirement was met.""But my mother wasn't most people. She saw an opportunity where others saw obligation. She built a partnership where others saw competition. She chose love where others would have chosen resentment."Stella looked at James and Catherine in the front row, both cryi
EMMAAt eighty-seven I was ready to die but my body hadn't gotten the message."You're in remarkably good health for your age," my doctor said during a checkup."That's disappointing," I said. "I was hoping you'd tell me I had six months left.""Not even close," the doctor said, laughing. "You could easily make it to ninety.""Great," I said flatly. "Three more years of this."But the years kept passing and I kept waking up every morning, and I figured I might as well make the most of it.Catherine and Sarah had a daughter via surrogate, and becoming a great-grandmother at eighty-eight felt absurd."Her name is Emma," Catherine said, showing me the baby through video call. "After you.""You named your daughter after an old woman with Parkinson's?" I asked."We named our daughter after someone strong who survived everything life threw at her," Catherine corrected. "That's you."Little Emma was perfect and watching Catherine navigate new parenthood made me remember when she'd been born
EMMAAt eighty-two I was diagnosed with early-stage Parkinson's and spent an entire day laughing at the irony."Of course," I told my doctor. "Of course I get a degenerative disease after watching my husband die from one.""It's manageable with medication," the doctor assured me. "And we caught it early.""That's what they said about Adrian's dementia," I pointed out. "And look how that turned out."But I started the medications and joined a support group and tried to accept that my body was betraying me the same way Adrian's mind had betrayed him."At least I'll remember everyone while I'm dying," I told Catherine during a phone call. "That's better than what your father got.""Mom, you're not dying," Catherine said. "You're managing a chronic condition.""Same thing, just slower," I said.The tremors started small but grew more noticeable over the next year, and I had to give up pottery because my hands wouldn't cooperate anymore."That's frustrating," I told my pottery instructor o
EMMAAdrian died on a Tuesday morning in April with me holding his hand and Catherine sitting on the other side of his bed.He'd been unresponsive for three days and the hospice nurse said it would be soon, but I still wasn't prepared when his breathing changed and then stopped."He's gone," the nurse said softly, checking for a pulse.I sat there holding his hand and felt nothing, not grief or relief or anything except empty."Mom," Catherine said, crying. "Mom, you should let go now."I looked down at Adrian's hand in mine and realized I'd been holding it so tight my knuckles were white."I don't know how," I said."Just open your hand," Catherine said gently. "One finger at a time."I did and watched my hand fall away from his, and that's when it hit me that he was really gone.The funeral was larger than expected because people from every phase of our life showed up to pay respects.Former foundation employees, clients we'd worked with decades ago, people whose lives Adrian had to
EMMAThe day Adrian forgot who I was started like any other morning.I brought him coffee and he looked at me with confusion instead of recognition, and I felt my heart break."Who are you?" Adrian asked, not hostile but genuinely uncertain."I'm Emma," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Your wife.""I don't have a wife," Adrian said, still confused. "I'm not married.""We've been married for forty years," I said, sitting beside him carefully. "We have three children together."Adrian looked at me like I was lying, and I pulled out my phone to show him photos."This is us at our wedding," I said, showing him the picture. "And this is Stella, and James, and Catherine.""I don't remember any of this," Adrian said, and I heard panic in his voice now. "Why don't I remember?""Because you're sick," I explained gently, like I'd explained a hundred times before. "You have Alzheimer's and sometimes your memory doesn't work right.""That's not possible," Adrian said. "I'm not old enough for Alz
ADRIANAt sixty-seven I started forgetting small things, where I'd put my keys, what I'd had for breakfast, the name of our neighbor we'd known for years."It's normal aging," I told Emma when she noticed."Or it's something else," Emma said. "You should see a doctor.""I'm not going to the doctor for normal forgetfulness," I said."Adrian, you forgot Catherine's parent-teacher conference last week," Emma said. "That's not normal."I went to the doctor reluctantly and after a series of tests and cognitive assessments, they told me what I'd been afraid to hear."Early stage dementia," the neurologist said. "Probably Alzheimer's based on the progression patterns we're seeing."Emma's hand found mine and squeezed hard."How early?" I asked."Early enough that you're still functioning normally most of the time," the doctor explained. "But we're seeing definite cognitive decline that will progress over the next several years.""How many years?" Emma asked, her voice shaking."It varies by



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