Chapter 13

Chapter thirteen 

Malcolm 

“Is there a problem here?” I asked again, and Louis stiffened.

This was just the beginning, I'd told myself after he'd left my office that afternoon, and I knew it was only going to get more fierce from now.

“We were just talking,” Louis answered, stepping away from Emily, but that didn't help the tense exchange between the two. 

I strode quickly over to Emily's side and as if she could read my mind, she lifted her hand to me. 

“Where did you waltz off to?” She asked, ignoring Louis. For that, I gave her a subtle thumbs up.

“To attend to our guests,” I replied, taking her hand and staring lovingly at her. That was an act I learned while in college - the art of lying with your lips and eyes. Then turning to Louis, my gaze hardened, “That's enough, Louis, did I not tell you that?" I said quietly, with a calm but authoritative voice. "You're causing a scene and upsetting my wife."

Louis's face twisted in anger, but he took a step back, his eyes darting between Emily and I. Then his eyes ran darted back, focusing on her, and Emily drew closer to me, acting scared, or maybe she was. 

I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Let's focus on celebrating our special day, sweetheart. You do not have to worry about anyone, because I'll be right here with you." I whispered to Emily, but loud enough for Louis to hear, after all my eyes were still locked on him.

Louis walked away, but the scent of hate and resentment lingered even after he was long gone. 

“Thank you, for stepping in on time.” Emily whispered, as we both walked towards our seats on the swing.

“It's my duty to do so now.” I replied, loosing the button on my jacket.

“I'm sorry for making you lie to your family. I feel like I've created a rift between you and them.” She said, staring into the setting sun, her expression sober.

“You didn't do anything wrong, they did. Your family and mine should be the ones apologising to you.”

“But I got you involved, and in a way, I feel terrible.” 

That was genuine, I thought, studying the line which suddenly appeared on her temple. Line of worry and fatigue. “Let me worry about that, all you need to do is toughen up.” I sighed.

“Wasn’t I tough enough earlier?” She asked quite emphatically like she was expecting an applause.

“Not exactly. You were fidgeting. You don't beat an enemy in a verbal war with your hands and feet unstable, you need to look them in the eyes and let them know that they don't scare you.”

“But that was exactly what I did.”

“Nope, it didn't appear so. You looked like you were going to cry.”

“Then I didn't act as good as I thought.” 

“Not in the slightest.” I replied, sipping from my glass.

“You seem pretty gifted at dramatic art, you mind giving a pointer?” Emily asked, eyeing me from the corner of her eyes. I wasn't supposed to feel anything, but that negligible action stirred me up.

Shifting on my seat, I looked away from her, hoping to settle the burning in my heart. “I might have to develop a course on that, just for you. But not today.”

“Absolutely not today.”

“Are we supposed to travel for our honeymoon?”

“You want to make it real?” I asked in return. “Then we have to do everything everyone else does.

“Again, I feel terrible for making you do this.” Emily apologised.

“Any location in mind?” I asked, interrupting her apology.

“Not any I could think of.”

“Where was your pick?”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

“You were supposed to be married to Louis today.”

“Yes,” she dragged, trying to understand where the conversation was heading.

“Then where did you two choose for your honeymoon? We could go there.”

Her eyes lit up with comprehension, and she laughed - not a shy, half laugh, but a genuine, throaty laugh.

“We were going to visit Sicily. That was my choice though.”

“Did you two agree on that?”

“We did. Why?”

“Then let's go there.”

“You have work.”

“That can wait. I just got married as you can see.” I reminded her playfully.

“Don't get my hopes up and dash them on the stones.”

“I wouldn't dare,” I replied, holding out a hand. “We have to prepare some hot topics we could sprinkle on their table from tomorrow. We'll resume our new roles as content creators from tomorrow.”

“I can't wait.”

“Can I have this dance?”

“I thought you wouldn't ask.”

***

Tasha walked up to me just as I was bidding my guests goodbye. She still had tons of make-up on and was peering at her through her fake lashes.

“Hey, Mr. Malcolm, thank you so much for everything. Emily says you're her saviour, but I need you to know that she's been through so much already. Please, don't add to it.”

“What makes you think I want to hurt her?”

“You know, they all did. I can't trust anyone around her anymore.”

“But you're still here, and you haven't hurt her yet, or do you have plans to?”

“Jesus, no.” I screamed.

“Then, trust me when I say that not everyone around her is there to hurt her.”

“I want to believe that.”

“You should.” I said, raising my glass. “And thanks, for looking out for my wife.” 

The last part sounded so unreal. I wondered why it felt absurd saying that to Tasha. I mean, I didn't owe her any explanation, I lied to everyone else about what our marriage wasn't, except Tasha. I guess it was because for a second, I thought I'd found one person who truly cared about Emily, and I couldn't help but ponder about how she might feel lying to her best friend. Nonetheless, I had to remind myself that tough times demanded tough decisions, and this was one such time.