Chapter 22 Emily
“Why didn’t you tell him the truth, that you were going to have dinner with Daniel and explain your reasons why?” Lisa asks me in between yoga poses.
I’m sweaty and struggling to hold the downward dog, my mind swirling as I try to find the right words to explain my decision to Lisa.
“Because I knew how he’d react,” I say. “He would have gotten mad with Daniel and I don’t want to make things worse between them and between us.”
Lisa straightens up, shifting into a warrior pose effortlessly. “Maybe, but keeping it a secret doesn’t exactly help either. You’re just adding more tension.”
I know she’s right, but admitting that makes me feel even more tangled up. “I’m not trying to hide things,” I say, switching to a different pose, my muscles protesting. “I just I don’t know how to bring it up without making everything a hundred times more awkward. Andrew already has enough on his plate.”
“And yet, you’re still going to see Daniel,” Lisa points out, her tone light but pointed. “Don’t you think Andrew deserves to know why?”
I push myself up to stand, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat off my face. “It’s not like I want to have dinner with Daniel. But I need him to back off.”
“Or you need closure,” Lisa says, her eyes sharp, like she’s seeing right through me. “Maybe that’s why you’re doing this. Because part of you needs to close that chapter, once and for all.”
“Maybe,” I admit softly. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m married to Andrew now, and I need to handle this without causing more drama.”
Lisa moves into a seated position, crossing her legs and looking at me intently. “Emily, you’re overthinking this. If you’re meeting Daniel to clear things up, then just be honest about it. You’re not doing anything wrong.”
I nod. “The plan is to make it clear to Daniel that I’m not interested.” Class is almost over .
“Tell Andrew, because he needs to know. If you don’t, it’s just going to look worse when he finds out.”
I sigh, rolling up my mat, trying to absorb her advice. “I’ll think about it,” I say, even though I already know she’s right.
As we walk out of the studio, the late evening sun feels warm against my skin, but it does little to ease the cold knot of anxiety in my chest.
Andrew is not home and relief surges through me. I’d rather tell him about the dinner with Daniel after, not before.
The dogs rush up to me, their tails wagging, and I can’t help but smile as I give them a quick pat before nudging them toward the backyard.
“Out you go,” I say, watching them scramble through the door. I wait until they’re outside, chasing each other around, before I head upstairs to get ready.
I take a quick shower and dry off while glancing at the clock. After rifling through my closet, I settle on a sleek, dark blue dress.
It’s fitted, with clean lines and a modest neckline—elegant but not too flashy, the kind of dress you’d wear to a business meeting. Perfect. I need Daniel to see that this isn’t a date, that I’m here to set boundaries, not rekindle anything.
I slip on a pair of black heels, brush out my hair, and add a touch of makeup, just enough to feel polished. A quick glance in the mirror tells me I look the part—calm, composed, completely in control. Even if I don’t feel it inside.
Grabbing my purse, I head out the door, the cool evening air brushing against my skin as I make my way to the car.
The drive to the restaurant is quick, but my thoughts keep looping back to Andrew. Part of me wishes it was him I was meeting tonight, that we could sit down and have a real conversation, without the awkwardness and distance that’s been hanging between us lately.
When I arrive at the restaurant, one of the trendiest spots in town, the valet takes my keys, and I make my way inside. The ambiance is elegant with low lighting and soft music that fills the space .
The hostess greets me with a smile and leads me through the dimly lit room, past tables of well-dressed couples and groups, to where Daniel is already waiting.
He stands when he sees me, a smile spreading across his face, but there’s something off about him. His tie is slightly askew, and there’s a faint redness around his eyes. I’ve seen that look before—Daniel’s been drinking.
“Emily,” he says warmly, stepping forward like he’s going to hug me. I keep my distance, nodding politely instead.
“Hey,” I say, taking the seat across from him.
He signals to the waiter, who appears almost instantly. “A bottle of your finest red, please.”
“I’m fine with water,” I say quickly, catching the waiter’s eye. Daniel glances at me, and his smile falters just a bit.
As the waiter walks away, Daniel leans back, studying me with a lazy grin. “You look beautiful tonight.”
I ignore the compliment, folding my hands in my lap. “Daniel, we need to talk.”
He reaches for his glass, taking a slow sip before setting it down. “Can’t we just enjoy dinner first?”
“No,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “This isn’t a social call. I’m married to Andrew. You need to stop sending flowers, stop texting, and respect that.”
His eyes narrow slightly. “Married,” he repeats, almost mocking. “To Andrew. And you’re telling me this like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You know that arrangement is just as much a business deal as ours was supposed to be.”
“Maybe it started that way,” I admit, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I am his wife now, and you have to respect that.”
He leans in, his eyes gleaming, and I catch the faint smell of alcohol on his breath. “You picked the wrong brother, Emily,” he says, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You know it, and I know it. You just got scared. ”
I feel my stomach twist, but I hold his gaze. “I didn’t pick the wrong brother, Daniel. You called off our wedding. You made that decision, not me.”
“And I made a mistake,” he says, almost pleading now. “I shouldn’t have let you go. I realize that now. I was scared of committing to something I didn’t understand. But I know better now.”
I shake my head. “Daniel, this isn’t about being scared. We were never right for each other, and you know that. Our engagement was a business arrangement, just like my marriage to Andrew. But it’s different now. I’m with him, and I need you to let this go.”
He leans back, laughing softly, but there’s no humor in it. “You think it’s different? That you and Andrew have something real?” He shakes his head, his eyes darkening.
“You’re fooling yourself, Emily. He doesn’t care about you. All Andrew cares about is business.”
His words cut through me, sharp and deep, like a knife. I feel a pang in my chest, and it takes everything in me to keep my expression neutral, to not let him see how much that hurts. Because a part of me is terrified he might be right.
I want to believe that what Andrew and I have is different, that it’s more than just a business arrangement. But Daniel’s words worm their way into my head, stirring up doubts.
“Maybe so, but he’s my husband,” I say with a nonchalance that I don’t feel. The truth is that Andrew treats me with more kindness and consideration than Daniel ever did in the short time we were engaged.
Daniel’s face hardens, and he leans forward, his hands clenched on the table. “I’m not giving up on you. I don’t care if you’re married to Andrew. By the time your arrangement is over, I’ll have shown you that we could have something real, something better than this farce you’re living in.”
I want to laugh but it will infuriate him further. Daniel has rewritten history. He has put it into his head that we were a love match made in heaven .
The waiter arrives with the wine, pouring it into Daniel’s glass, and I take a sip of my water. Alcohol must be twisting the reality in Daniel’s. I need to be careful. I don’t want to be the reason he goes over the edge.
He’s Andrew’s brother after all. He’s family.
***
I walk through the front door, my mind still spinning from everything Daniel said. The house is quiet, and I head upstairs, slipping out of my dress and into a pair of comfortable leggings and a soft sweater.
I brush my hair out of my face, then wander over to the window, glancing outside. That’s when I see him.
Andrew is in the backyard with Bear and Bruno, tossing a ball for them to chase. The dogs are all over the place, tails wagging furiously, tongues hanging out, pure joy radiating from them. My heart lifts at the sight.
Andrew’s broad shoulders are relaxed, a rare sight lately, and there’s a smile on his lips as he watches the dogs bound around him.
I head downstairs, drawn to the sound of their laughter. The moment I step outside, Andrew glances up, and our eyes meet.
My heart skips a beat. He looks so handsome in shorts and a light sweater.
“Hey,” I say, stepping closer, feeling the cool evening breeze on my cheeks. “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” he replies, tossing the ball again.
Bear leaps after it, Bruno hot on his heels. I stand beside Andrew, watching the dogs race across the yard. For a few minutes, we just stand there in comfortable silence.
I know I need to tell him about dinner, and my stomach twists at the thought, but I don’t want to keep anything from him.
“I had dinner with Daniel,” I say finally, my voice steady, even though my heart is hammering. “He asked me to meet him. ”
Andrew doesn’t say anything but his body posture stiffens. He takes the ball from Bruno’s snout and tosses it again. “What did he want?”
“He thinks he can salvage what happened between us,” I say to Andrew’s back as he’s facing away from me. I hate that I can’t see his face.
“My purpose for going was to tell him directly that he needs to back off. No more flowers or text messages,” I say, feeling as if I’m rambling. The speech I had rehearsed has flown out of my mind.
“He was texting you?” Andrew asks in a terse voice.
“Just today.” I take a breath and continue. “I wanted to make it clear that whatever we had is over. I’m your wife now, and he needs to accept that.”
Andrew is silent for a moment, then he turns to face me, stepping closer, his presence suddenly commanding. “Did you make that clear enough, or does he need to see our wedding certificate?” His tone has an edge to it, a possessiveness that sends a thrill down my spine.
He moves closer, until there’s barely any space between us, his eyes dark and intense.
“I did,” I say, my breath hitching as he closes the distance, his body heat mingling with the cool night air. “I made it very clear.”
The air between us is charged, electric, and I can barely breathe. Andrew’s gaze drops to my lips. He lifts his hand, cupping my jaw, his thumb brushing gently over my cheek.
“Good,” he murmurs, his voice low. His thumb softly traces my bottom lip, sending a wave of desire washing over me.
Thoughts of Daniel leave my mind. All I can think of is how badly I want Andrew’s lips on mine.
Andrew’s eyes are filled with a raw intensity. “You’re mine, Emily,” he says fiercely.
He slants his mouth over mine in a searing kiss, his tongue sliding into my mouth, tasting me with a hunger that matches my own. His hand pulls me closer, our bodies now pressed intimately together .
I wrap my arms around him, feeling his heart pound through his chest as we kiss.
Finally, we pull away, both panting slightly and our eyes locked in a passionate gaze.
“Let’s go in,” Andrew says taking my hand.
We make it as far as the kitchen. Easily lifting me up, Andrew perches me on the counter top. His hands rake over my thighs, pushing my dress higher and higher until my black lacy panties are visible.
Andrew’s breath hitches as he hungrily takes in the sight before him.
“You're so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice deep and gruff with want. His fingers trace the curve of my hip, then slowly slide under the elastic of my panties, his touch sending a shockwave of desire coursing through me.
“Andrew,” I groan, my body arching towards his touch.
“I need you, Emily,” he growls, his eyes burning with lust.
He spreads my legs apart and pulls my panties aside. His fingers find their mark, and I gasp at the sensation of his touch on my most sensitive place.
He looks up at me, his eyes dark and intense. “Are you ready for me?”
I nod, unable to speak past the lust and pleasure gripping me.
Andrew wastes no time, undoing his pants and positioning himself between my thighs. With one swift movement, he pushes inside me.
I gasp at the sensation of his hardness filling me, stretching me in the most exquisite way. He moves slowly at first and I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer, my hips rising to meet each thrust.
Our bodies move together, pleasure building up inside me until it is almost unbearable.
Andrew's thrusts become more fervent, his movements faster and deeper. I moan his name, my fingers gripping his shoulders as I draw him closer .
“That's it, Emily,” Andrew growls, his breath hot on my cheek. “Take me.”
My release builds up, the pleasure intensifying with each thrust. I cry out as the climax crashes over me, my body shuddering with the force of it.
Andrew's face contorts with pleasure, his eyes squeeze shut as he pushes even deeper inside me. With a final thrust, he cries out my name, his release filling me completely.
We collapse against each other, panting and sweating.