CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Emma's laughter filled the sitting room as Carring and Morris cracked some old jokes. Somehow, she ended up on the third bottle of champagne as the guests left the house. She was comfortable and Carring and Morris didn't mind that. As far as Morris stared, her snorts and blueberry noises were the most beautiful form of laughter he had seen in a while.

“Well, an old man has to rest his back,” Carring stood, stretching. “Happy Birthday, Son,” he embraced Morris, giving him a firm but gentle pat on the back. “Emma, you're one of the best people I met tonight. I do hope you enjoyed yourself too. I'll be checking in with you by the morrow. Good night,” he greeted.

“Good night,” she smiled, unsure of what next to do.

“Come here, girl. I do hugs,” he announced, smiling.

Eagerly, Emma jumped off the couch, arms stretched and losing herself in Carring's embrace. It was warm and filled with love. Almost like a closure, she has been seeking for all these years. He kissed her on both cheeks befor