Chapter 2

I looked at her and asked suddenly, "Does Charlie know about this meeting today?"

Sarah didn't answer right away. Behind her, the assistant lowered her eyes a fraction.

"Charlie has meetings today," Sophia said softly. "If he knew Mrs. Reed had come to see you, it would put him in an awful spot."

My phone buzzed right then. A message from Charles Reed popped up.

[Did my mom go find you? Don't make a scene, just wait, I'll explain once I'm done here.]

I stared at that line, my finger frozen on the screen.

Don't make a scene.

He hadn't asked where I was. He hadn't asked what Sarah had said to me. He hadn't said he was coming. He'd already decided what this was before hearing a word of it.

I was making a scene.

Sarah glanced at my phone and seemed to guess who it was. Her tone cooled.

"Emma, Charlie has his responsibilities," she said. "He can't throw the whole Reed family's plans into chaos over a relationship."

Sophia nodded along, her voice soft as a tuft of cotton. "Ms. Wynn, you understand him this well, so you must want the best for him more than anyone."

I let out a small laugh. "I do."

I wanted the best for him. That was why I'd reworked his proposals, why I'd fielded the drinks meant for him, why I'd waited three hours outside an investor's building just to hand up a supplementary agreement he'd forgotten to sign.

I wanted the best for him so badly that I'd kept putting off the one question about what I even was to him, and never asked it.

But today, Sarah had asked for it for me. Was a man who wouldn't even show his face at a moment like this worth waiting for any longer?

The barrage was still drifting past.

[Emma, don't agree to it.]

[You can always make more money, but true love is gone for good.]

[You need to make Charles understand you're not someone who can be bought off.]

I picked up the agreement and turned to the last page. Sarah's brow twitched. The delicate, fragile look on Sophia's face stalled too.

"Ms. Wynn." Sophia lowered her voice in warning. "You need to think this through. Once you sign, you and Charlie..."

"Ms. Grant." I cut her off. "You're sitting here today precisely because you want me to think it through, aren't you?"

The corner of her eye gave a faint tremble.

I took a pen from my bag. When the nib came down, the paper let out a small, soft sound.

Sarah finally lifted her eyes and looked at me in earnest. "You won't reconsider?"

"No need," I replied.

I finished signing, pushed the agreement back, then tucked the check and the folder together into my bag.

"Mrs. Reed, I accept," I said.

The barrage went blank for a beat. The next second, the screen filled with question marks.

[What?]

[Emma, you actually took it?]

[That was an insult. How could you accept it?]

I zipped my bag shut and looked up at the two of them.

"You really expect me to give up two million dollars, an apartment, a formal offer, and a fresh start, all to hopelessly love a man who wouldn't even show up to something like this?"

The private room went so quiet that the only sound left was the faint sway of tea in the cups.

Sophia's tears caught in her eyes and wouldn't fall. Sarah's fingers paused on the rim of her cup.

She'd probably imagined I would cry, or make a scene, or insist that Charles and I truly loved each other.

She'd imagined I might throw the check back and trade some hollow dignity for a "Guess she's got guts after all."

What she hadn't imagined was that I would sign this fast.

I stood. Sophia finally recovered and rose with me, her voice a little urgent. "Ms. Wynn, about Charlie..."

"You can tell him." I looked at her. "I was very gracious about it."

Her face paled slightly.

Mrs. Reed had her assistant walk me out.

Sarah had the assistant see me out. When I reached the door of the private room, my phone buzzed again. Another message from Charles.

[Be good, don't make this hard for me.]

I looked at those few words and felt them go light all at once. Too light to hold down three years of waiting.

I sent back two words.

[No need.]

Once it went through, I blocked his number, his messages, and every one of his social accounts.

A light rain was falling when I walked out of the club. I opened my umbrella, and the drops landed across it thick and fast.

The barrage was still weeping overhead.

[Emma, are you really giving him up?]

I gripped the strap of my bag and started down the steps. It wasn't about whether I wanted him. This time, he was the one who'd finally handed the answer straight to me.

Back at the apartment, the motion light by the door flicked on.

Charles had rented this place in the second year of his startup. He'd said the company was close by, that we could grab dinner together when he wrapped up at night.

Later, he came back less and less, while I was the one who'd turned this place into a home for two.

Two pairs of slippers sat on the entryway cabinet. One dark gray, one cream. I'd bought the cream pair and the dark gray pair too.

The first time Charles wore them, he complained the soft soles felt flimsy. Then one night he came in drunk, kicked off his dress shoes, slid his feet in, and laughed under his breath. "The things you pick out always seem to suit me."

I crouched down and dropped the cream slippers into a trash bag. The dark gray pair I left where they were.

The barrage started aching for me again.

[She won't even take her own slippers.]

[She really did make this place a home these three years.]