Chapter 32 #2
“And then that email?” Tuesday cut in, her voice trembling as she clutched the baby tighter. “A family emergency? What the hell was that? What were we supposed to think?”
John’s voice rose right over hers. “You disappear for days, no calls, no texts, no responses—”
“We thought you’d been kidnapped!” Tuesday’s words cracked over his. “Five days, Em. Five days we waited, texting you a million times, and nothing.”
Their voices tangled together, fear and anger and relief, all chasing each other.
Images bloomed in my mind. Of John pacing the living room, waiting for a phone call that never came. Watching my location which never moved. “I forgot you were on my email list,” I admitted, my voice low and frayed. “How did you even find me here? There’s no service… how did you—”
“You were still sharing your location with me from when you went to Vegas a few years ago. We went to the last place it pinged—which was the gas station down the street. We showed the man your picture. He told us you were staying at Pine Ridge.”
My chest tightened as I realized the lengths they’d gone to find me—driving more than five hours with a newborn just to make sure I was safe.
The weight of the situation slammed into my chest. I opened my mouth to try to explain, but the door creaked open at that exact moment.
Dean stepped into the cabin, and everything around us froze in place. His gaze moved over all of us in one sweep—from John, to Tuesday and the baby, then finally back to me. “What’s going on?” he asked me, his voice much too calm for the situation we were in.
John’s posture changed instantly—shoulders squaring, jaw tightening, his whole frame coiled with suspicion. “I was about to ask you that same question,” he said.
I could practically see him making the connection. From meeting Dean at Jake’s barbecue over a month ago—where I’d avoided him like the plague—to standing here now.
“Em,” John pressed in, his voice rougher, pleading for answers.
My chest squeezed tight, and I realized I’d been backed into a corner. I had to tell them the truth. All of it.
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” I blurted, desperate to hold the room together before it split wide open. “I haven’t been hiding some scandalous affair. I’m not in danger. But I do have to tell you something, and you’re not going to like it.”
John’s eyes narrowed, his stance widening—like he was bracing for a fight.
I swallowed hard. “For the last five years…I’ve worked as an escort.”
The word dropped into the room like a blade. Tuesday’s brows shot up. John’s jaw clenched so tight I could hear the grind of his teeth.
“It’s not what you’re imagining,” I rushed out before the silence could eat me alive. “It’s never been about sex. I have rules, and I keep them.
Most of my clients just need a date for parties or corporate events—someone polished who can make them look good for an evening.” My throat burned, but I forced myself to keep going. “It gave me independence, John. Security. A way to pay my bills without asking anyone for help.”
He shook his head, stunned, searching my face as though he was trying to find the girl he grew up with—and coming up short.
“And a few weeks before Jake’s barbecue…” My eyes flicked to Dean, my chest tightening with the choice I was about to make. “Dean hired me.”
He went still—the silence louder than any words he could’ve said. Something flickered in his expression before it settled, his gaze steady on mine, unflinching. Like he wasn’t going to stop me. Like he was choosing not to.
It hit me then—what he was giving up in that moment. Control. Privacy. The line he’d drawn so carefully when he had me sign the NDA.
And still… he didn’t say a word.
Then he gave the smallest nod, like he was handing over his complete and total trust.
“To pretend,” I added, my voice catching as I forced the words past the lump in my throat. “To be his fiancée.”
I turned back to John and Tuesday. “That’s why I was so off when you saw me at Jake’s party. He was already my client, and I didn’t want you to find out.”
John looked at me like I’d just grown another head, his chest rising and falling too fast.
“There’s more to this story than I can explain right now,” I said softly, my voice fraying. “But I promise you, I’ll tell you everything. Just not here. Not today.”
I glanced between the two of them, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. “While you’re here, I need you to play along. If there’s one favor you do for me in my entire life, let this be it. Please.”
The silence stretched taut between us, almost suffocating me. John’s gaze burned into mine, searching every corner of my face for answers.
Finally, his shoulders eased the smallest fraction. His voice became low and heavy with warning. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Em.”
The door had barely clicked shut after Martha left with John and Tuesday to take them to their own cabin. I turned to face Dean, finding him standing in the center of the room, shoulders tight, dragging a hand through his hair.
The gesture was weary, almost defeated.
“They won’t tell anyone,” I blurted, the words rushing out before I could stop them.
Dean’s eyes found mine. His gaze was steady, but doubt lingered at the corners. “John didn’t look happy,” he said quietly.
“I know.”
“He thinks I’m a piece of shit.” The words were flat, but they cut anyway.
I shook my head and stepped closer. “He’s just protective. He doesn’t know you.”
Dean didn’t argue, but the furrow in his brow deepened. Then he moved forward and pulled me against his chest. His lips brushed the top of my head, his voice low and rough. “Maybe I should just come clean. What if John or Tuesday slip tonight?”
I pulled back enough to meet his eyes, pressing a hand against the solid of his chest. “They won’t. They’ll play along.”
His eyes searched mine, dark and uncertain, worry written in every line of his face. “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” I whispered, holding his gaze until the doubt softened just enough.
Something in him seemed to release then.
His shoulders eased, and he let out a slow breath, pulling me tighter against him as though I was the only thing holding him upright.
His lips brushed my hair again, lingering this time, and I felt the weight of his surrender in the way his arms wrapped around me—not desperate, not guarded. Just needing me.
His voice was almost too soft to hear when he spoke next. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove I can handle everything on my own.” He paused, his chest rising hard against mine. “But tonight… for the first time, I don’t want to.”
The admission cracked something open inside me. I pressed my face into his chest, feeling his heart thud beneath my cheek, and for a long moment, neither of us moved.
And for the first time all day, the silence between us felt less like a burden and more like a refuge.