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Chapter 65 : Former Best friend
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2026-05-16 15:45:00Laura Reed stood outside Emma’s house looking perfectly composed.
Which was almost funny considering she had rung the bell like someone trying to break through the gates.The garden lights cast soft gold across the stone pathway leading to the front door, illuminating Laura’s pale coat and sharp expression beneath the night sky.Emma tightened the robe around herself slightly, damp hair still falling over one shoulder from the shower.For a few seconds, nei
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Rowan pushed open the door to his office, waiting for Emma to walk in first. The door clicked shut behind them. He had barely taken two steps toward his desk when Emma reached for the front of his tie. He looked down at her hand. Then back at her. “…What are you doing?” Instead of answering, she gave his tie a gentle tug. He moved closer without resistance. Close enough to see the tiny smile playing on her lips. “Emma?” She rose onto her toes. A soft kiss landed on his cheek. Just one. Warm. Quick. Completely unexpected. For a heartbeat, Rowan forgot how to breathe. Emma lowered herself back onto her feet, looking entirely pleased with herself. His eyes stayed on her. “You…” He touched the spot she’d kissed as though making sure it had actually happened. “…Did you just kiss me?” She blinked innocently. “I believe I did.” “In my office?” “Mhm.” “During work hours?” “I don’t remember seeing a rule against it.” He stared another seco
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Morning arrived quietly. A pale ribbon of sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains, stretching across the bed until it found Emma’s face. She scrunched her nose. “…Rude.” The sunlight, unsurprisingly, ignored her complaint. Emma cracked one eye open. The first thing she noticed was Rowan’s arm around her waist. She smiled. Carefully, she tried to slip out of bed. His hold tightened. “Nice try.” His voice was still thick with sleep. Emma glanced over her shoulder. “I thought you were asleep.” “I was.” “You don’t sound asleep.” “I woke up when someone started escaping.” “I wasn’t escaping.” “You were leaving.” “I was going to brush my teeth.” “I would’ve missed you.”
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The drive back to Rowan’s estate was quiet. Not the awkward kind. The comfortable kind that only came after a day well spent. Shopping bags filled the back seat. Emma smiled to herself at a memory. “What?” Rowan’s eyes stayed on the road. “You know exactly what.” “You’ve been smiling for the last five minutes.” “I have not.” “You have.” She folded her arms dramatically. “I was simply remembering Stephanie.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Ah.” “What does ‘ah’ mean?” “It means she’s a bad influence.” Emma let out a soft laugh. “On me?” “Very much so.” “I think she’s improving me.” “I noticed.” She turned toward him. “That sounded suspic
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The first mistake Rowan made was agreeing to “one last store.” He should have known better. “Steph,” Emma said, laughing as her sister slowed outside another boutique. “You promised.” “I did.” Stephanie pointed through the display window. “Then I saw that.” Rowan followed her finger. He closed his eyes. “…Right.” “I know that sigh,” Emma said. “It means you’ve accepted your fate.” “I’ve accepted bankruptcy.” Stephanie looked genuinely confused. “We’ve barely bought anything.” Rowan glanced down at the shopping bags looped over both arms. “I admire your optimism.” Emma laughed, the sound escaping before she could stop it. She reached for Rowan’s arm to steady herself. He looked down at her hand. She hadn’t even realized she’d done it.
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The drive to Emma’s house was painfully quiet. The radio was off. Neither of them reached for it. Outside, the city carried on as if nothing had happened. Inside the car, yesterday still sat between them. Rowan kept his eyes on the road. Twice he almost spoke. Twice he thought better of it. Emma rested her elbow against the window, watching familiar streets pass by in a blur. Every now and then, she caught him glancing at her left wrist. The marks were already fading. His expression wasn’t. “It’s getting better,” she said softly. He nodded once. “I know.” Another stretch of silence. Then, almost too quietly to hear— “I’m still sorry.” Emma looked at him. He wasn’t looking for reassurance. He wasn’t asking her to tell him it was okay.
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The nurse walked a few steps ahead of him. Dominic followed without speaking. “…Dad.” She had said it so naturally. As though the word had belonged to him all along. Dominic stopped for half a heartbeat. Dad. He drew a slow breath and continued after her. The automatic doors slid open. Warm air met the chill that had settled into his bones hours ago. Inside the neonatal intensive care unit, monitors beeped in quiet rhythm. Nurses moved from one incubator to the next with practiced hands, speaking softly enough that their voices barely carried. The nurse stopped near the window. She smiled. “Your son.” Dominic looked through the glass. Everything else disappeared. He’d imagined this moment countless times. Hearing that first cry. Feeling tiny fingers wrap around his own. Instead… A tiny boy lay inside an incubator that suddenly seemed far too big. A knitted blue cap covered most of his head. A tube rested beneath his nose. His little chest r
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The elevator doors closed. And Emma collapsed. Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just slowly ….like something inside her had unplugged. Her back hit the mirrored wall, and she slid down until she was crouched on the polished floor, heels digging into marble, sobs tearing out of her che
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The message arrived at 8:17 p.m. Emma almost ignored it. She was sitting alone in the living room of the Sterling mansion, the lights dim, a half-finished glass of water resting on the marble coffee table. Dominic’s had texted two hours ago ….”Board meeting running late. Don’t wait up.”
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