16. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Jonathan
I never realized how much I’d miss Emma until now. The silence stretches endlessly, each day without her feeling heavier than the last. I’m haunted by the crippling knowledge that I messed up, and I have to explain it to her so she’ll understand, but I don’t have the chance.
Emma has locked herself up in her room at Reed’s for nearly two weeks. And Reed refuses to even let me into his house, adamant that he’ll do what his sister wants.
“What if you just give her a message from me?” I asked him the day after she left, but that didn’t faze him.
“I have no business with what happened between you and my sister, and I’m on her side until the two of you resolve the matter,” Reed said stubbornly. In a way, I admire how much he’s standing up for his sister, and I feel glad knowing she has someone like him to watch over her. On the other side, not seeing her is killing me.
I send her flowers every day, and now the florist knows my name. I buy everything from lilies to roses to blooms I don’t recognize, hoping that one of them will finally make her open the door and hear me out. Reed says the house reeks of a dying garden—proof of my relentless efforts turning into a mess of wilted petals and stale perfume, ignored like the messages I keep sending her.
Now, I stare at my email. Not once has Emma written back to me or even pretended to acknowledge all my apologies and the urgent fact that I want to speak to her. But today, I return from work to find a single rose on my porch with a note attached by a string.
The note reads: It’s not real. You don’t have to apologize in a fake marriage.
It’s not real.
It’s not real.
Those three words dance in my head, aggravating me. Why does she have to remind me that all of this is fake, that the one thing I want is out of reach? My heart starts to fall apart, but I remind myself that she’s right and it’s not real, so I shouldn’t be chasing after her like a lovesick puppy when I’m not even in love.
It’s not real.
Except the heartache is real. The fact that I yearn to hear from her and see her laugh is real. I’m aware that I’m falling for her, and it’s pointless because it’s not real and she doesn’t want it. She wants nothing to do with me.
I crumple the note in my hand and stare straight ahead, wondering how a few words can hurt so much. Why does Emma mean so much to me, and why did I let my heart fall for her this deeply?
“Need a drink, bud?” I hear Reed’s voice behind me. I hadn’t even noticed him creeping up on me.
I shrug. “If you don’t mind.”
Reed nods. I exhale slowly, feeling a mix of relief and resignation as we step inside my house.
I serve us whiskey. It’s already late in the evening, and I need something strong. Reed lounges in my living room, stretching out comfortably while I sit rigid, the emptiness of the house pressing down on me.
“Do you reckon your cousin is going to be a problem again?” Reed asks, his tone sharp with suspicion. “You think he’s still got his hands in something shady?”
I let out a dry chuckle and shake my head. “Not this time. But it wouldn’t be the first.”
Reed leans forward, his eyes narrowing. “We covered the basics, sure. But what exactly did he do while you were gone?”
I exhale, rubbing my temples as the memories resurface. “It started during my honeymoon—just when I thought I could finally take a break. First, our biggest deal collapsed out of nowhere, and then, almost immediately, complaints started rolling in.”
“Complaints?” Reed echoes. “About what?”
“Faulty products—items supposedly from our brand, but none of them were ever authorized. It was like someone wanted the company’s reputation to tank overnight.”
Reed lets out a low whistle. “And let me guess—Zain was behind it?”
I nod. “Didn’t take long to trace it back to him. He was forging contracts, messing with supply chains, trying to make it look like I was running the company into the ground.”
“That’s low, even for him,” Reed mutters.
“I should’ve caught it sooner,” I admit, my jaw tightening. “But the numbers weren’t adding up. Shipments disappeared, contracts surfaced with fake signatures—it was all too precise, too well-timed. I had no choice but to cut the honeymoon short and deal with the mess before it got worse.”
Reed shakes his head, leaning back. “Well, at least now he’s out of the picture. But are you sure he’s really done? Guys like Zain don’t just disappear.”
“Zain is always working some kind of scheme, but this time, I hope he finally realizes that messing with my company is a lost cause.”
“Your grandfather wouldn’t want the company to go to him anyway.” Reed says, shaking his head as he takes a slow sip of his whiskey. “I’m glad that’s over.”
He swirls his whiskey, watching me carefully. “You’ve got everything, man—money, power. But none of it seems to be making you happy right now.”
“You’ve known me all my life, Reed,” I say, meeting his gaze. “You’re probably one of the few who know me well.”
“I do, and I’ve never seen you this lovesick before.” Reed pauses and takes a sip of his whiskey. “I kept telling myself that it’s not my business and I shouldn’t butt in, but it is my business. Emma looks like she’s seconds away from losing her mind while she types away on her computer all day, and you…you’re lifeless, and you’re acting like a shell of your former self. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss the times when you guys would scream at each other and fight. You’re my best friend, and she’s the only family I have left. I want the two of you to talk things out.”
I give him a sad smile. “Don’t you think I would have done that if I could? I’ve tried reaching out to her many times, and she always rejects me. There’s nothing I can do, Reed. It’s not like you would let me storm into your house to speak to her.”
“You’re right, I won’t,” Reed says. “It’s her safe haven, and it would be betrayal for me to do that to her. At least all of this is giving her inspiration to write, which she’s been doing nonstop.”
“Really?” I ask, glad that somehow there’s a good side to all of this.
Reed nods. “Brilliant stuff, too. She’s finally letting me read it—only snippets, of course, because she doesn’t want to spoil the whole thing for me. I know this will be the novel that will get her the success she wants.”
I simmer in that thought, glad to hear she’s doing well in other aspects of her life. But I’m not quite sure I like her source of inspiration being how I hurt her.
But she reminded me that our marriage is fake, so why should she feel hurt?
“So,” Reed says. “I know I said it’s none of my business, but I want to know…what exactly happened between the two of you?”
I let out a groan. I don’t even want to talk about it. “It’s Jessica. She came over a few weeks ago.”
Reed gives me an incredulous look. “Jessica? As in ‘I can’t believe I ever dated her’ Jessica?”
I nod, feeling glum. “You know how she gets up and personal around me. Before I could get her to leave, Emma saw us and I think it upset her…I don’t know. She’s refused to talk to me ever since, and now she’s saying there’s nothing to apologize for because what we have isn’t real.”
Jessica never goes to extremes to get me back, but she always finds a way to reappear when I least expect it, asking for another chance. Like the time she showed up at my office unannounced, leaving a gift on my desk with a note that read, ‘For old times’ sake.’ Or when she conveniently bumped into me at a charity gala, acting as if we were still together. I usually ignore her, but now that Emma is my wife, I can’t let it slide. Next time she shows up, I’m filing a restraining order.
“Forget that,” Reed mutters, shaking his head as he sets his glass down with a thud. “Not real? You really believe that? I know real when I see it—the two of you are in love, head over heels.”
“I don’t think so.” I laugh bitterly. “It’s just me, and I’m wrong for that. I have to remind myself that this marriage is purely professional, and I shouldn’t let it get to me. I shouldn’t be catching feelings.”
“You act like you have a choice.” Reed gives me an odd look.
“I do,” I say. “I mean, I can choose not to act on those feelings. I can choose to completely ignore them and her. After this little contract of ours ends, she won’t hear from me again.”
Reed looks like he’s about to say something but changes his mind. Instead, he takes another sip of his whiskey. My glass sits untouched beside me—I’m not in the mood for it tonight.
“So are you going to explain it to her?” I ask Reed.
Reed snorts. “Me? Tell her what? I told you I’m not getting involved in this any more than I already have. You’ll have to figure this mess out yourselves. Besides, does it matter what she thinks if it’s already established that none of this is true and it won’t last?”
He’s right, I did say that. But saying and acting on it are two completely different things. I can’t for the life of me get her out of my mind.
“Well, I’ll be off now.” Reed gets up from the couch. “Emma expects me to be there for dinner…it’s the one time when she acts like a normal human instead of a writing zombie.”
Before I get to ask him what he means, he’s out the door. I sigh, gathering the glasses and putting the whiskey away. I notice how awfully quiet the house is and wish it could be filled with another person’s presence. I find my legs walking toward her room, the one she was supposed to stay in after our wedding.
The room is barely touched, and everything is intact except for the bed. I make it, and I’m amazed to find that the room still smells of her perfume. It’s so intoxicating that it makes my head spin.
I inhale the air around me, and if I close my eyes, I can almost imagine her sitting next to me, possibly telling me off for something I did or said. I smile fondly, remembering the kiss we shared before the phone call interrupted us. I want to kiss her again.
Sighing, I walk back to my room, only to find a pamphlet on my bed, one I’d forgotten. It’s for the upcoming annual company banquet, and I’m expected to show up with my newly wedded wife in my arms.
A wife I haven’t spoken to in nearly two weeks.
That’s it. I need to contact her in the one way she might actually see it: through email. Reed mentioned she’s always on her laptop, so I figure it could work.
I shoot her an email, which reads:
I hope you haven’t forgotten about our deal? You’re still expected to be my wife, and I’m your husband.
Signed, your dearest Jonathan
Her email comes in almost immediately, and I’m shocked.
First of all, don’t call yourself my dearest, because you never have been and we both know this is all a lie. And yes, I am aware of my position as your wife. Where do we go from here?
Emma
I snort at her curt signature. I can almost hear the sass in her words.
There’s a banquet in two days, in the evening. You’ll be expected to show up with me so I can show you off like a medal and everyone will fawn over how lucky I am to have you. I’ll send you a dress of course, and you only have to pretend to love me. Shouldn’t be too hard, considering how irresistible I am, don’t you think?
Your Jonathan.
I find myself smiling as I wait for her response, fingers drumming lightly against the desk. My eyes stay locked on the screen, anticipation buzzing in my chest. I should have tried this before.
Her email comes in quickly. I expect her to tease me, to remind me that I’m not hers or that I’m not as irresistible as I think I am. But her email is just one line, simple and direct:
I’ll be there.
My smile fades. I was hoping for even the slightest hint that she cares. Exhaling, I shut my laptop and head to the kitchen. Maybe whiskey isn’t the answer, but right now, I just need something to take my mind off this feeling.
I wonder how everything unraveled so quickly. Just when things were finally looking up between us, Jessica had to appear and shatter it all. It’s almost laughable, how one moment can change everything.
I laugh because, at this point, what else can I do? Maybe it’s better to let go, to stop trying so hard for something that was never meant to last.