42. Emerson
EMERSON
In my entire life, I’ve never felt like I was making the wrong decision the way I do right now. College and internships and countless promotions have led me here.
To this office.
But it’s not just the office.
It’s my team.
It’s the people on my floor and in this building who make Andrews International a success. It’s our ability to do good in the world—donate and sponsor and provide accountability along the way.
And then I met Garrett and I liked spending nights in his arms. He invited me not only into his home but into his life with his friends.
But not his parents.
The little voice in my mind is unhelpful because even though we hadn’t met, he told them about me but respected their need for space. And there would be no reason to meet them if we were going to get divorced anyway.
“I had this crazy fantasy that I’d walk in here and you’d tell me getting divorced would be a mistake. Because honestly, Em, I don’t know if I can just be your friend.”
I don’t know if I can be his friend either.
I damn near ripped Heather’s head off, and she’d been nothing but a brief encounter. How would it be to meet his new girlfriend?
His future wife.
I loathe that there will be someone in Garrett’s life after me—that I’ll have to attend gatherings for Tom and Kat and see him there with his new girl.
“I kept my promise until last night. If this marriage ends, it won’t be because of me.”
Picking up the envelope, I dump the contents onto my desk and frown.
Divorce papers.
Garrett’s wedding band.
A thumb drive.
“I kept my promise until last night.”
Picking it up like it could burn me, I hold it in my palm and stare at it, knowing what it contains but pretending I’m not going to listen to it.
Releasing a shaky breath, I insert the drive and wait for the little box to pop up on my screen. There’s only one file on it.
Surrender.
Without allowing myself to think about it, I double-click on the icon and wish I hadn’t as Garrett’s smoky voice fills the speakers.
The guitar riff is seductive and raw, and I let the tears fall, the anguish in his words speaking to me in a way I can’t begin to comprehend.
She’s diamonds and lace
And a fire that grows
She’ll damn me to hell
That’s just the way that it goes.
Goose bumps cover my skin at the crescendo—the emotion guttural as he sings.
As he pours his heart out for me as much as it is for him.
She’s whiskey and crimson and she’s reaching for me
A life for the life that’s been taken you see
A savior, a queen, a battle cry heard
And all that to say she set fire to my world.
I want to scream and cry and run to him. I want to tell him that we can make this work and that everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours doesn’t matter as long as we’re together.
But I don’t know if I can.
So I sit and restart the song, punishing myself by listening, punishing Garrett by not going to him, and punishing us both for a life we may never have again.
It’s dark outside as a throat clears from the doorway. Exhaling through my nose, I straighten my spine and turn.
Not because I want to.
Because I’m Emerson Fucking Andrews and not a man or a song or the promise of being in love is going to change that.
“Miss Andrews?” Des starts, a single sheet of paper in his hand, his eyes not reaching mine. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Of course.” Since neither of us is pretending everything is fine, I don’t attempt a smile, just wait as he walks slowly across my office and places the sheet in my hand.
Accepting it, I note that his posture is not as straight as usual, his face sporting more than a five o’clock shadow instead of being meticulously cleanshaven like it usually is.
For the second time today, my stomach drops to my incredibly expensive shoes as my eyes glance over the first line.
Please accept this as my formal resignation.
“No,” I tell him, making a show of dropping it into the garbage without reading the rest.
“Miss Andrews—”
A savior, a queen, a battle cry heard.
And all that to say she set fire to my world.
The closing lyrics repeat over and over in my head, Garrett’s voice a shiver racing down my spine as I brace myself for what’s to come.
“Close the door and sit. If you’re going to resign, you’re going to do it to my face.”
Heaving a breath, he rolls his shoulders back, taking his time to close the door before taking the seat across from me.
“I didn’t want to do this today, not after…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, just continues on like Garrett didn’t make a scene in my office. “I don’t have a choice.”
“Explain.”
Des stares at me for a moment, his normally professional mask slipping enough to see the anguish in his gaze—desperation and hope flashing in turn.
“I’ve become my nephew’s guardian. He’s thirteen and even though I love my job…
it’s too much for him. He needs stability and I can’t give him that and be what you need.
I’m trying to find a new apartment, but it’s hard finding something in my budget and I don’t want him to move schools. It’s just too much.”
Opening my mouth for only a second, I snap it shut as I narrow my eyes. “Forgive me—but I know what you make here. What happened that you’re struggling to stay in budget?”
“Miss Andrews.”
“Right now, it’s Emerson, and I can’t fix it if I don’t have all the details. I’m being selfish, Des. I can’t lose anyone else I care about today.”
Dropping his gaze to his lap, his shoulders slump, the weight of something far bigger than this moment bubbling to the surface in my office.
“My mother was really sick and passed away this winter.”
“Des, I’m so sorry.” I rack my brain to think if he’d taken time off or if he’d even mentioned it and come up empty. “I didn’t know. You were here—the whole time?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Am I that bad of a boss you couldn’t come to me?” I ask, unable to keep the hurt from my voice.
“No—of course not. I knew you’d want to fix it and I just…I couldn’t. It would have been too much and I was already hanging on by a thread.”
“Will you tell me now?”
“Her insurance lapsed from being out of work and then she had nothing. There was some assistance from the hospital, but I had to shoulder the rest. My sister started to fall apart the sicker our mother got and lost her job…”
He trails off and instead of my faithful assistant, I see a man who has held the weight of the world and shown up every single day without complaint even when everything was falling apart around him.
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know. She took the last of the rent two months ago and split. The state granted me guardianship, but I have nothing that’ll hold up in court if she comes back. I have Memphis in therapy and talked to all his teachers, but I need to be home when he gets out of school.”
“I wish you came to me sooner,” I tell him as I pick up the desk phone and watch his whole body tense as my father picks up.
“Emerson, is everything all right?”
“How close is that apartment to being ready on the sixth floor?” Des shifts in his seat as I tap my nail against the polished wood.
“Mostly done, I think. Why?”
“Can we get it done within the week? I need it.”
“For?”
“My friend and his nephew.” Belatedly, I add, “They’re family.”
“Sure—I’ll get it scheduled.”
“Put a rush on it, whatever it costs.”
“You got it.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
Des’s eyes are wide as I drop the receiver back down and lean my elbows on the desk.
“Miss Andrews…Emerson—what…”
“Honestly, Des, your boss sounds terrible.” I grin as his eyebrows start creeping up his forehead.
“You are officially on paid leave. We’ll start with a month so you and Memphis can get settled.
I will hire you an assistant so you can offload the tasks that are not essential for you to handle.
You will work around Memphis’s schedule, and if he doesn’t have any after-school commitments, you can bring him to the office or down to the guys in security. ”
“Emerson, I—”
“You’ve more than proven your loyalty, Des. Again, this is purely selfish on my part. And besides, who am I going to get to put up with me the way you do?”
His lips quirk, relief evident in his gaze. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You say thank you for throwing out my resignation and giving me a raise.”
“Emerson.”
“I’m the boss. I make the rules; now go. I’ll text you the code for the apartment so you can bring Memphis by and pick out paint colors.” When he doesn’t move, I make a shooing motion with my hand and feign exasperation. “Go.”
He stands slowly, his body unfurling as he moves toward the door.
“Emerson?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“If it’s not too out of line, I’d say that if you’re willing to move mountains to help an employee—you should be able to do the same to save your marriage with Garrett.” Swallowing, he adds, “You’re happy with him, and honestly, if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you. Good night, Miss Andrews.”
And just like that, another man got in the final word and shut the door behind him.