After the wedding, once the crowd cleared out, I stood by the car, eyeing Emmett.He looked away fast, lips tight—but his ears? Bright red.Bold on stage, but now he's shy over eye contact? Cute.Then he said, "Irene, don't waste your tears on someone who's not worth it."Caught me off guard for a sec.I didn't say a thing—just waved him over.He hesitated, then awkwardly climbed into the back seat. I reached out and pulled him in.He sat stiff as a statue, legs clamped together. I spotted the bruises on his cheek and lip, reached past him, and grabbed the first aid kit."Let me clean you up."He paused, one brow lifted, then tilted his face up without a word.I dabbed gently at the bruises.Eyes still shut, he asked, "What are you planning to do now?""Move out. Cut Malcolm off for good."A flicker of a smile touched his lips, but when he caught the tension in my face, he sighed and looked up, serious."I've got a few things to handle. In three days, I'll pick you up. We
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