Chapter 25 Alex
ALEX
Emma barely makes it through the last piece of sushi before her eyes start getting heavy.
She tries to fight it, but I can see it in the way she leans against the pillows and in the slow blinks that last a little too long.
She’s exhausted. And I can’t blame her. She just got out of the hospital, and I’m keeping her outside in the chilly night air just because I don’t want this moment with her to end.
She exhales softly, shifting on the blanket, a slight chill shakes her body. “I think I want to try out that new tub.”
I smirk. “I heard it is pretty great.”
She’s grinning now. “Oh, yeah? Who told you that?”
“I may have tried it out before you got home.” She smacks my shoulder, laughing gently. I help her to her feet, keeping a firm hold on her waist when she wobbles a little. She lets me guide her inside, her fingers curling around my wrist as we walk through the house.
The bathroom is warm and cozy, a perfect blend of old and new.
The deep clawfoot tub sits beneath a window, its polished porcelain gleaming under the dim light.
I turn the taps, letting the water flow as steam starts to rise, then grab one of those bath bomb things from a little dish on the counter.
It’s pale pink with specs of gold, and when I drop it in, it fizzes instantly into the water like ink spreading across a page.
I glance back at Emma, who’s watching my every move with a soft look in her eyes.
I swallow. “Come here.”
She steps forward and I take my time as I slip my fingers beneath the hem of her shirt, dragging it up and over her head. I press a kiss to her shoulder, to the soft, smooth skin beneath her collarbone, then trail down to the center of her chest. Her breath hitches.
Piece by piece, I undress her, kissing every new inch of exposed skin like it’s something sacred.
By the time she’s bare, my heart is pounding. This time is different though. This is reverence.
She turns away from me shyly, “Don’t look.”
“Now that I’ve seen you like this, how can I ever look away?”
Her cheeks flush and she steps into the tub, sinking into the warm water with a sigh, her body disappearing beneath the soft foam.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her.
She looks up at me, curious but too relaxed to question it.
I slip out of the bathroom and head back to her bedroom, scanning the bookshelf until I find what I’m looking for.
The old, worn copy of Pride and Prejudice that still has a price sticker on the cover, sits right where I saw it earlier, its spine cracked and familiar.
When I return to the bathroom, Emma has her head tilted back, eyes closed, completely as peace.
I clear my throat. “Can I read to you?” Her eyes flutter open as I hold up the book. “Like you used to do for me at the bookstore.” I add.
Her lips curve into a small, knowing smile. She shifts, sinking deeper into the water. “Yes,” she whispers.
I sit down beside the tub, resting both elbows on my knees as I open the book.
“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”
My voice is steady, filling the quiet space between us as I read through the first chapter. Every few lines, I glance up at her, just to watch her, to see the way the candlelight flickers across her damp skin and how the steam curls around her like a delicate veil.
She’s stunning.
Even with exhaustion pulling at her features, even with the weight of the past weeks still clinging to her, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
By the time I finish the first chapter, I close the book and let out a breath.
“Why did it take us so long to get here, Em?” I ask.
She stares at the little swirls of foam still floating on the surface of the water. Then, quietly, she says, “It was my fault, too.”
I frown. “No, I—”
She shakes her head. “I was too heartbroken. After losing mom… after what you said to me the day of the fight.” Her voice catches slightly, and I hate myself all over again for the way I handled that day.
“I never wanted to end things like that. I just—” She swallows. “I couldn’t stay. It hurt too much.”
I reach for her hand beneath the water, finding her fingers and lacing them with mine.
“I could have handled it differently, too,” I admit. “I could have tried to make you stay, instead of putting you down for leaving. But I was scared, Em. I was scared of losing you. And when I realized I already had, I didn’t know how to handle it.”
She looks up at me, her eyes soft, searching.
“Will you wash my hair?” she asks quietly.
I nod, setting the book aside.
Reaching for the shampoo, I pour some into my hands before gently running my fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp.
She closes her eyes, tilting her head back slightly.
I take my time, making sure every movement is slow and deliberate.
When I rinse the shampoo out, I smooth my hands over her hair, watching as the studs disappear into the water, repeating the same process with the conditioner, as well.
When I finally help her out of the tub, I wrap her in a thick, soft towel, running my hands along her arms to keep her warm.
She leans into me for a second before taking my hand. “Come on.”
I follow her to her bedroom, opening her dresser to find something for her to wear. But before I can hand her anything, the towel drops. Emma stands there, bare, watching me with a teasing glint in her tired eyes.
“Do you want some dessert?” she murmurs.