4. Emma
4
EMMA
My hand clenches into a fist by my sides as I stare at Liam. The image of my palm connecting with his cheek flashes in my mind, a fleeting flicker of savage satisfaction.
That wouldn't solve anything, but it should shut him up for a bit. He must be the most irritable person I’ve ever met in my life because I’ve never felt satisfaction just thinking about slapping someone before.
The only other time I’ve ever even entertained the thought of landing a slap on someone’s face was in his condo that morning.
Maybe a slap won’t even do. Maybe a well-placed knee to his crotch would be a more satisfying way to crush the annoying big dick energy he’s oozing right now. A swift, surprising jab would double him over and leave him sputtering for words. The image of his arrogant smirk twisting into pain is almost enough to make me laugh.
Before I can act on either of these uncharacteristically violent impulses, the bell above the store door chimes, and my head snaps up to see who’s joined us.
A flood of relief and disappointment washes over me as June walks through the doorway with a worried look. Her hand is firmly clasped in Ethan’s grip.
“Aunt Em!” Ethan rushes toward me to wrap his arms around my legs.
“Hey Em,” June greets, her voice bright and cheerful, seeping out some of the dark storm brewing inside me. “We were wondering what took you so long.”
“June,” I reply, forcing a smile onto my face. The sudden arrival feels like a lifeline thrown at a drowning sailor.
“Liam?” June’s gaze flits between Liam and me, a flicker of curiosity sparking within it. “You’re here.”
“Hello, June.” He nods.
“You’ve met?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
“Of course. Ethan, say hi to Uncle Liam,” June prompts the little boy.
“Hey, Champ. How’s your dad?” Liam opens his arms
Ethan turns to walk into his arms, but I quickly pull him back. The boy looks at me with wide, curious eyes as bright as blue marbles.
“Your cake,” I offer him the gift, and he grabs it with innocent enthusiasm that melts my anger a little bit more.
“So, you two have met?” June murmurs with a smile.
“Oh, yes, we have,” I mumble vaguely. “He's a bit of a…” I cover Ethan’s ears with my hands. “Narcissistic dickhead who thinks the world revolves around him?”
The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. June's eyes widen momentarily before she bursts into a fit of nervous giggles.
“Whoa there, Em, strong words.” She elbows me playfully.
“They're warranted,” I mumble, stealing a glance at Liam, who stares at me with a wry smile on his face. “C’mon let’s go.”
I throw a final icy glare at Liam, our eyes meeting for a charged moment. A flicker of something—interest? Regret? —crosses his features before he turns his expression back into a cool indifference.
I clench my jaw as June looks from me to him, confused by the war raging between us. She mumbles an apology to Liam before grabbing my arm and steering me toward the door.
“Come on, let's get Ethan to school and then head home. Need some serious retail therapy to erase that grumpy cloud hanging over you this morning.”
As we walk out of the store, June throws a quick apology over her shoulder. “Sorry Liam!”
“It's nothing,” He calls out. “Just…catching up with an old acquaintance.”
“Old acquaintance?” June turns to me with raised eyebrows.
“Don’t believe a word from his lips,” I force out, hating the way my voice still trembles with residual anger.
We reach June's car, a bright red convertible that seemed to clash with her otherwise practical personality. Ethan bounces excitedly in the back seat, chattering away about the dinosaur cookies his dad promised him for after school.
The car ride is filled with his innocent chatter, a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside me. Yet, every time a lull falls in the conversation, my mind replays the argument with Liam, each cutting remark echoing in my head.
“God, he makes me so mad,” I mutter under my breath, slamming my fist against the car seat in a fit of frustration.
June shoots me a concerned glance. “Everything alright, Em? You seem pretty worked up.”
“Just some leftover annoyance,” I grumble, refusing to elaborate.
The truth is, I'm furious. Furious at Liam for his smugness, for the way he gets under my skin with such ease. Furious at myself for letting him get to me, for letting him see my reaction. And maybe a tiny, shameful part of me, is furious that his careless words stung so deeply.
We drop Ethan off at school, waving at him amidst his enthusiastic goodbyes. As we pull away, June reaches over and squeezes my hand.
“Do you know one of the things I was looking forward to in this wedding?”
“What?” I ask with a smile.
“All four of us planning it. You, me, Damon, and Liam.”
“Really?”
“Speaking of Liam,” June starts, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “isn't he, like, exactly your type?”
I choke on a piece of imaginary air. “My type? Absolutely not! He's arrogant, self-centered, and the complete opposite of everything I look for in a guy.”
The vehemence in my voice seems to surprise June.
“Whoa, okay,” she says, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “Didn't mean to strike a nerve. But tall, dark, and handsome with a bit of a brooding edge? That's your usual MO, right?”
My cheeks burn. June has a point, but there's no way I'm going to admit it, especially not when that fits Liam Miller perfectly.
“Just because he fits some superficial criteria doesn't mean there's anything there,” I argue, my voice a little too loud, the defensiveness bubbling to the surface.
June raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
“Alright, alright,” June says, dragging out a dramatic sigh. “I’m surprised by how you reacted to him there though. I’ve never seen you be rude.”
“I wasn’t rude, June. I was just paying him back in his own energy.”
She rolls her eyes and taps her index finger’s nail on the steering. “That makes it even more confusing. Is there anything we should know?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “Forget about Liam Miller. I don’t want to talk about him.”
“You know you can talk to me, right?” she says gently.
“I know,” I mumble, staring out the window.
“Whatever happened between you two, you don't have to bottle it up.”
I grit my teeth, the urge to unload everything on June warring with the stubborn desire to keep it all inside.
“Maybe later,” I finally say, my voice tight. “Right now, I just…need some time to clear my head.”
June nods understandingly. We drive in silence for a while, the only sound being the rhythmic hum of the engine.
But the silence inside me is anything but peaceful. It's filled with a racket of emotions—anger, frustration, hurt. And a strange, prickling awareness that beneath all the anger there might be something else entirely. Something I'm not quite ready to face.
We arrive back at the house, and I feel a sense of relief wash over me. As I shut off the engine, I turn to June with a smile. “I've got something for you,” I say, reaching into the backseat and pulling out a wrapped package.
June's eyes light up with curiosity. “What is it?”
“Open it and see,” I reply, handing her the gift.
June tears into the wrapping paper with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning. When she reveals the photo scrapbook, her mouth drops open in surprise. “Oh my God, Emma! This is amazing! Where did you find this?”
I grin. “It's from the town library. Someone put together a collection of the best weddings over the past thirty years in Harmony Creek.”
June flips through the pages, her eyes wide with excitement. “Whoever made this must be a romantic, just like you,” she says, glancing up at me with a knowing smile.
A sad smile tugs at my lips. “Yeah, I used to be a hopeless romantic,” I say softly. It's why I became a wedding planner. Growing up, my dad and brother were my only family, and I barely remember my mom. June’s mom and our neighbor Martha were the feminine figures in my life, but I grew up more feminine than most. I spent hours in my room reading up on etiquette and ladylike manners, practicing each one again and again in front of the mirror.
It brought the attention of most mothers in Harmony Creek to me, and I enjoyed it. It felt good then to be called Harmony Creek’s treasure, and most of the townsfolk predicted I’d be married with kids before I turned twenty-two. Now I'm twenty-eight, and I still haven’t met my soulmate.
I’ve dated a few times, but it all came to nothing. The most disappointing experience was my weekend tryst with a douchebag like Liam Miller.
June clears her throat and looks at me over the top of the book. “Where did your mind go just now?”
“I’m right here,” I say quickly.
June pats the couch beside her. “Come check this out. Did you know Madam Alistair’s husband once had a head full of hair?”
I laugh and join her on the couch. As we turn the page, a black-and-white photo catches my eye. It's a small wedding, the bride and groom standing awkwardly in front of a simple backdrop. The groom, sporting a full head of dark hair that time hasn't yet touched with gray, holds a nervous smile on his face.
“Hey, isn't that Madam Alistair?” June asks, her brow furrowed in concentration. “And…wait a minute, isn't that Mr. Alistair with hair?”
I chuckle, the memory surfacing. Madam Alistair, the town's resident eccentric and self-proclaimed champion of proper etiquette, is known for her short, silver hair and stern demeanor. It's hard to imagine her younger self, let alone married.
“Yep,” I confirm, then I point to the next image. “And that’s Mrs. Bellamy and her husband.”
“Hmm,” June hums, her gaze lingering on the photo. “Interesting. Didn't know she was ever married.”
“Small town secret,” I say with a wink. “Apparently, they met in college, got married young, and then… Well, let's just say it didn't work out.”
We continue to flip through the album, a comfortable silence settling between us. We laugh and comment on the various styles and moments captured in the photos. One picture shows a wedding where the groom has no best man, and I remark, “See, you don’t always need a best man for a wedding.”
Suddenly, June slams the book shut, the sharp sound jolting me out of my reverie.
“Emma,” she says, her voice serious, “Do you have a problem with Liam being Damon's best man?”
My breath hitches. The question, so blunt and unexpected, catches me off guard.
“Not really,” I stammer, unsure of how to respond.
“You don't get to shrug that off, Em,” June presses, her brow furrowed. “This is me and Damon’s wedding. Your feelings are important.”
“I know that,” I say defensively, the anger from the morning bubbling back up to the surface. “It's just… I don’t trust him.”
“Liam?” June echoes, her voice laced with suspicion. “Why don’t you trust him?”
I hesitate, torn between wanting to confide in June and the urge to keep my past with Liam a secret.
“Before I met him, Damon used to tell me that someone hurt Liam in the past, and he doesn’t believe in love. Now that I’ve met him, it’s confirmed.”
“That’s it?” June asks, her voice skeptical.
A wave of guilt washes over me. Here's June, my best friend, excited about her upcoming wedding, and I'm keeping secrets that could potentially cast a shadow over it.
“June, I think he doesn’t want this wedding. What kind of a best man doesn’t want the groom’s wedding? I’m afraid he’ll do something.”
“Alright,” June sighs, sinking deeper into the couch. “Then you win him over, Em…”
“What?” My jaw drops.
“Win him over, girl. You’re the perfect antidote to his problem. You can win him over.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”
“What’s not simple?” Damon strides into the room, his eyes darting between June and me, concern etched on his face. “What’s going on, Em? You look like you just lost a dollar and found a dime.”
“A dime’s better than what the task June just dropped on me.”
He looks at June, who shrugs. “She’s talking about your buddy Liam. Apparently, our wedding partners don’t see eye to eye.”
Damon chuckles, his voice low and easy. “Ah, Liam. Yeah, he can be a bit of a pain, but he’s not that bad. He’s got a good heart, you know.”
June turns to me, her eyes seeking confirmation. I shrug, avoiding the subject. “I get it. I mean, you and Liam are pals, and you can be just as annoying sometimes,” I jest, trying to steer the conversation away from Liam.
“Well, I hope this makes me less annoying.” Damon chuckles, brandishing a paper bag like a peace offering. “Bagels are served,” he announces with a smirk, attempting to shift the focus to breakfast.
June beams at the bagels, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She turns to me, a mischievous glint in her eye. “See, Emma? Bagels and a ring. What more could a girl want?” she teases, flashing the diamond on her finger.
Damon raises an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Hey, I thought I was getting married for my charming personality, not my bagel-buying skills,” he jokes, setting the table with a hint of mock indignation.
June leans in, planting a kiss on Damon’s cheek. “It’s a package deal, babe. Bagels and charm,” she quips, her love for him evident in her eyes.
Watching them, I can't help but smile at their playful banter. “Well, consider me your wedding fairy godmother. I’m going to make sure your big day is nothing short of magical,” I declare, enthusiasm bubbling in my voice.
June pulls me into a tight hug, her excitement contagious. “I believe you, Em. I can't wait,” she exclaims, her eyes shining with anticipation.
As they share a moment, I feel a pang of longing deep in my chest. It's bittersweet, watching them, knowing I haven't found that kind of love yet. I push aside the thought, forcing a smile as I rise from the table. “You two lovebirds carry on. I’ll be in the living room,” I announce, grabbing a bagel and my beer, eager to escape the intensity of their affection for a moment.