CHAPTER TWENTY Joshua
CHAPTER TWENTY
Joshua
I t’s even better than I imagined it to be. I’d be lying if I said I don’t think of kissing Emily every time I see her, but this time, I actually did it. And I’m whisked back to that first kiss in that New York apartment. I thought that was the pinnacle, the kind of kiss that sticks with you forever, but this moment—right here, right now—proves me wrong. This is better. Infinitely better.
Then I remember where we are. Rob. Emily’s ex—the reason for all this in the first place—is now approaching us, his steps deliberate, his face a mask of confusion and disbelief. To be honest, I’d forgotten about him entirely, too wrapped up in Emily to care about anything else.
Not to mention, everyone inside the Corner Bistro is wide-eyed, their breakfasts forgotten as they stare at the spectacle unfolding just outside the door. I can feel their gazes on us—burning, curious, judgmental—but I don’t care. Not one bit. Let them look. Let Rob look. Let the whole world see.
“Emily,” Rob calls out softly, finally stopping a few feet away. His voice isn’t angry, but there’s a slight tremor in it—awkward, unsure. He glances between the two of us, clearly trying to process what he just walked in on. “Hey… uh, hi.”
At this point, Bon and the others are outside of the Bistro, not even hiding the fact that they’re eavesdropping. Or, as Emily would call it, lurking. For some reason, there are others on the sidewalks who also stop for this reunion. There’s Freida, Manang Linda, and Manong Jose, with his teenage daughter Julia. Richard and his dad are also somehow approaching the Bistro, but stop short since we’re covering the entrance.
“Hey, Rob, been a while,” Emily says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She looks at me, and I can see that she’s flustered. Her cheeks are red, her eyes are dark, and she’s holding a hand to her lips.
I’m no better. All I want to do is go somewhere with her and finish what we started. But, for some reason, Emily has been looking to me for support. So, I put my hand on her back, gently patting it to reassure her that I’m not going anywhere.
Rob scratches the back of his neck, his eyes flicking between Emily and me. “Yeah. It has. Um…” He lets out a quiet laugh, clearly unsure of how to navigate this. “I didn’t realize you two were…uh….”
“Together.” I step in without hesitation, my voice calm but firm. “Yeah, we are,” I say. The words come out a little sharper than I intend, but I can’t help it. The last thing I want is for Rob to make her feel more awkward than she already does.
Rob’s brows knit together, his arms crossing over his chest, a skeptical look flashing in his eyes. He shifts his weight, not quite confrontational, but definitely not comfortable. “Huh. You, uh... seem like the last person I’d expect to be in a committed relationship,” he says, his tone light but laced with something more. Something accusatory.
My jaw tightens, but I don’t let him see the irritation creeping up inside me. I keep my hand on Emily, steadying her as much as myself. “People change,” I say simply, my tone controlled.
Rob scoffs, the sound low but biting, like he’s not buying a word of it. “Really? Because, from what I remember, you’re the guy who’s always keeping things casual, right? So what, you’re just going to string her along like you do with everyone else? Until you get bored?”
I take a slow breath, steadying myself. I’m not gonna let this slide. “Robert,” I start, my voice calm.
Before I can finish, Emily steps forward, cutting me off. She’s had enough too, and I can see the shift in her posture as she faces him, her chin slightly raised. “Hey,” she says, her voice low but firm. There’s no hesitation in her words, no room for argument. “You lost the right to care about me the second you cheated on me .”
The air shifts. Rob’s face pales, his smugness dissolving in an instant. He stumbles back, his arms dropping to his sides. For a second, he just stands there, blinking, like he didn’t see that coming.
“I—” Rob stammers, his bravado completely deflated. “That was… different. I didn’t mean—”
Emily’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Doesn’t matter,” she says, cutting him off again, sharper this time. “You don’t get to question my choices, especially not after what you did. So, no—whatever you think you know about Joshua, you’re wrong.”
Rob’s mouth opens as if he’s going to argue, but no words come out. His shoulders slump slightly, and I can see him struggling to regain his composure, but it’s too late. The confidence he walked in with is gone, and now, he’s just standing there, exposed.
Emily grips my hand, her fingers lacing tightly with mine. “Let’s go,” she tells me. With one final glance at Rob, she pulls me away, leaving him in the past where he belongs. I don’t say a word, just follow her lead as we walk in silence, her pace quick and determined.
We walk past Manang Linda, and she’s smiling. She lives for this stuff. She’s already whispering—loudly—to Freida. All I hear is “...always knew Joshua was the one…” I wonder what she says next.
We walk and walk, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air, but I don’t push her. I’ll go wherever she needs to go.
Eventually, we stop at the old treehouse in the middle of the neighborhood, one we used to play around with as kids. We don’t go up, we just stand beneath the towering trees. It’s starting to get hotter, now that the sun is making its way out from behind gray clouds. Emily wipes sweat off her forehead, but she doesn’t remove my hoodie. Instead she just turns to me, her eyes softer now, her voice small. “I’m sorry,” she says, her grip on my hand loosening slightly. “And thank you. I didn’t want to face him alone.”
I look at her, the strength and vulnerability in her all at once, and shake my head. “You never have to face anything alone when I’m here, Em.” I don’t know why I said that, but it feels right. We’re still holding hands, and I gently stroke her hand with my thumb. “And you were amazing back there. Tantrum-thrower, indeed,” I say to lighten up the moment.
Her lips curve into a small smile, the kind that makes something inside me twist. That smile—it mirrors the clouds parting after a storm. I want nothing more than to lean in and kiss her again, do anything to feel that electric pulse between us like I did just minutes ago.
But then the voice in my head reminds me, loud and insistent: that kiss wasn’t real. It was a quick-fix solution to make Rob jealous. Nothing more. The only reason we’re even here, standing under this tree, holding hands, is because we agreed to pretend.
Emily shifts beside me, her thumb brushing mine, bringing me back to the moment. She doesn’t know the war going on inside my head. She doesn’t know that every instinct I have is screaming at me to pull away, to protect myself from what this could turn into. But instead of letting go, I tighten my grip on her hand, holding on to her because… because I want to.
“You okay?” she asks, her voice soft, but there’s an edge of concern there.
I let out a small laugh and shrug, brushing it off. “Me? Always. Why?”
Emily raises an eyebrow, giving me that half-smile she does when she knows I’m full of it. “You just look… tense. Like you were thinking really hard about something.”
“Nah, just trying to figure out why the hell Manong Jose always wears socks with slippers. Deep thoughts, you know?” I give her a playful nudge, trying to lighten the mood.
She laughs softly, shaking her head, but her eyes linger on me a little longer. “Right. Keep your feet fetish to yourself.” And then we both laugh harder.
Her laugh does something to me—it eases that tight knot in my chest, just a little. I squeeze her hand, holding on a beat longer than necessary, and give her a grin. “Besides, you’re the one who just verbally drop-kicked your ex.”
She rolls her eyes but can’t hide the small smile creeping up. “I didn’t drop-kick anyone.”
“You kinda did,” I say, grinning. “And it was glorious.”
She smiles, but there’s something in her eyes now—something softer, warmer. And even though I keep making jokes, part of me wants to stay in this moment with her a little longer.
I feel that pull again, that familiar push-and-pull inside me that keeps me teetering between wanting more and holding myself back. I brush it off. For now, I’ll just go with it until we’re back in New York, until the show ends. When I’m back there and she’s out of reach, maybe I’ll be able to remind myself that this was all just pretend.