Chapter 4

A week later, Emily came. When the maid announced her, William was in the study and I was in the living room flipping through a magazine. At the villa door, Emily stood there clutching a scrawny old hen and a huge bag of red dates and peanuts, looking timid, eyes rimmed red.

"Let her in." Emily walked in with her head lowered, wearing faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt, barefaced and meek. She looked nothing like the girl from the mall in a designer dress and perfect makeup. She had turned back into that simple, timid scholarship girl from the mountains.

"Charlie..." She stopped in front of me, her voice catching as tears fell. "I heard about the baby..."

William came out of the study. The second he saw Emily, his steps stalled and his face changed, but he recovered fast. "Emily's here." His tone sounded normal, but his eyes swept over her face before quickly landing on me.

"Will." Emily greeted him softly, lowering her head even more.

"Sit down. Don't just stand there." I pointed at the couch, my tone warm. Emily sat down awkwardly, clutching the hem of her shirt.

"Charlie, my mom heard what happened and had someone from back home bring over a chicken. I thought I could make you some soup..."

"That's thoughtful of you," I said lightly. "But I'm doing much better now. You don't need to go through all that."

"You do. You need to recover..." Emily looked up anxiously. "Charlie, just let me do something for you. Otherwise I'll feel awful..."

"Emily means well," William said at last. "Let her make it. Have the cook help, though. Don't wear yourself out."

"Right, right, I'll do it. I'm not tired!" Emily hurried to her feet.

"Then I'll help too." William stood up as well.

"Sure." I smiled. "Then I'll leave it to you two."

The two of them headed into the kitchen, one after the other. It was an open kitchen, separated from the living room by nothing more than a bar counter. I sat on the couch pretending to read my magazine, but from the corner of my eye, I caught everything happening in there. They stood close, but never touched, not even meeting each other's eyes, and their voices were low, though I could still make out pieces.

"Will, is Charlie really okay?"

"The doctor said she's recovering well."

"It's all my fault... if it weren't for me, you wouldn't have..."

"Stop." William cut her off, warning in his voice. "What's done is done. Don't bring any of that up in front of Charlotte again."

"I know... I just feel horrible..."

"Then keep it to yourself. Charlotte lost a child. No one feels worse than she does. We don't have the right to say any of this in front of her."

Emily went silent, and all I could hear was her muffled sniffing. William let out a sigh, his tone softening. "Wipe your tears. Don't let Charlotte see."

After that, neither of them spoke again. Every now and then, Emily would sneak a glance at William, her eyes full of longing and pain. But I knew the calmer he looked, the more chaos there was inside him.

He didn't dare look at her because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to control himself. The more he acted like a stranger, the guiltier he looked. A man and woman who'd been sneaking around for months were now acting more polite and distant than strangers right in front of me. As I watched their little performance, I felt no anger at all, only a cold, superior kind of scrutiny.

Emily came back out after setting the soup to simmer, wiping her hands. Her eyes were still red. "Charlie, the soup needs another two hours. I'll head back first..."

"Stay for dinner." I put down my magazine. "You hardly ever come by. William, what do you think?"

William came out of the kitchen. "Stay and eat. If you go back alone, Charlotte will worry."

"No, no... I still have something to do at school..." Emily waved both hands quickly.

"All right then. I'll have the driver take you." I stood and walked over to her, then took her hand. It was ice-cold and trembling. "Emily, thank you for coming to see me. And thank your mom for me too. Once I'm fully better, I'll go visit her myself."

Emily's eyes reddened again. "Charlie, I'm sorry..."

"Silly girl, what are you saying?" I patted her hand, smiling gently. "You don't owe me anything. If you ever need something, come to me anytime."

Emily cried even harder, nodded hard, and practically ran out. William stood at the kitchen doorway, staring after her with unreadable eyes. I turned and met his gaze with a small smile. "Emily still cries over everything, huh?"

William looked away, came over, and pulled me into his arms. "Charlie, you're too kind." I leaned against him, breathing in the faint scent of his body wash, while my eyes stayed cold as ice. Kind? No. I was just waiting for the perfect moment to send both of them straight to hell.

The soup was done, and it smelled amazing. William ladled me a bowl, blew on it to cool it down, and fed it to me spoon by spoon. "Is it good?"

"It is. Did you make it?"

"Emily did. I just helped a little."

"That girl can cook," I said lightly. "She's just too sensitive. Take extra care of her at school, okay? Don't let anyone bully her."

William's hand paused in midair with the spoon. "Yeah. I will." He lowered his gaze, his lashes hiding whatever was in his eyes.