Chapter Twenty-Five
Twenty-Five
Emmy woke feeling energized and optimistic for the first time in weeks.
Maybe years. She was riding high on that gut feeling that everything was going to work out, that she and Will would be together, that she would see her family again soon.
There were three texts waiting for her, two from Will, one from his mother.
She checked them while she brushed her teeth.
First, from Will:
Ive left you for my mistress Alessandrica we are moving to Tahiti to weave baskets and MAKE LOVE you can have the house
And then…
(jk bbs)
Emmy laughed to herself, spat toothpaste foam into the sink. The text from Will’s mother contained more exclamation points and emojis than were strictly necessary. She and Bill were ready to go ahead with the landscaping, and they had the deposit check ready for her.
In that moment, Emmy didn’t care that Will’s parents weren’t real or that she was in a book. Her heart skipped a beat. Pure pleasure swept through her.
This was what it could feel like. This could be her reality.
She found she was finally ready to make it reality.
Joanna’s text concluded by saying she’d asked Will to swing by and pick up the check.
Aha.
So that explained his trip to “Tahiti.”
After sending a quick response to Joanna telling her she’d get started right away, Emmy went to Will’s office to begin researching native plants.
Just because she intended to escape the book didn’t mean she couldn’t continue to practice being a business owner, right?
A slight twinge of guilt dampened her mood.
Was it really fair to ask Will to leave his parents?
Wouldn’t he miss them? What about Jared? His job?
Wouldn’t taking him with her simply reverse their positions?
Emmy shook her head. There were no alternatives.
If she left him behind, she might end his existence.
And she couldn’t stay with him indefinitely.
Not only wouldn’t she live without her family, but she would go crazy knowing she could never be alone in public for fear of being flooded by meet-cutes.
They’d work it out. She was sure of it.
Happy. Energized. Optimistic.
Don’t kill the mood.
She began making notes on pricing for flowers and shrubs.
Most of these species were familiar to her; Massachusetts and Minnesota had fairly similar climates.
Still, she found herself going down a rabbit hole as she researched.
There was no way she was going to come across a plant called Joe Pye weed and not look up its origins.
Who was Joe Pye? Why did he get his own weed?
Then there was New Jersey tea. Why did it have New Jersey in the name if it grew all over the place? Did they actually use it for tea?
Before she knew it, early morning had retired and mid-morning had taken its place.
Was Will coming back soon?
She saved her work and wandered toward the front of the house. Maybe he’d gotten back already, and she hadn’t heard him.
Speak of the Devil, she thought when she heard footsteps coming up the front walk.
Already prepared with a humorous tirade about his betraying her for Alessandrica and Tahiti, Emmy swung the front door open.
Paul, fist raised to knock, startled at the sudden movement. Emmy felt all the words dry up in her mouth.
“Wow, you sure know how to keep a man on his toes,” he said.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you. Can I come in?”
Emmy’s “no” was wasted on him as he had already wandered past her. She left the door open, not comfortable shutting herself in with him. He’d be leaving soon, she told herself.
Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the door and straight into a face full of flowers.
Sputtering, she jumped back a step. Paul held out a bouquet to her, one that looked bedraggled and…
familiar. Emmy stared from the wilting blooms that hung over his clutched fist to the tangle of roots that dangled limply from the stems.
“Those are mine,” she blurted.
“Yes, they are,” Paul replied with a grin, and pushed the flowers at her again.
Emmy snatched them out of his hand and brandished them like a weapon. “No, you idiot! I mean they’re mine! You pulled these out of my landscaping. What is wrong with you?”
She didn’t care if she was irrationally angry over this. Those flowers had meant something to her. They were the result of her hard work. And he’d ripped them out of the ground.
Paul looked confused. “They’re Barrett’s,” he said slowly. “I thought they were pretty. He won’t miss them.”
The sound that ground its way out of Emmy’s throat was more animal than human. “They’re mine,” she repeated. “I planted them. You just tore up my work!”
“Oh.” Now he had the sense to look abashed. Slightly. “They’ll grow back, won’t they?”
Emmy nearly threw the flowers in his face, but held herself back. Yes, they were a lost cause, but she wouldn’t debase them further by flinging them at him. She walked over to the trashcan and laid them to rest properly.
“I want you to leave now,” she said, her back still to Paul.
“Emmy, wait, please. I know I messed up. Just hear me out.”
She turned to him. “What could you possibly have to say to me?”
Paul ran his hand through his hair. “Ah, shit. You’re mad now. I didn’t want you to get mad. I’m just… I’m no good with this stuff. With pretty words and romance.”
Emmy felt a pit form deep in her gut. “I don’t need that from you,” she said quietly. “I have Will.”
“Damn it, Emmy, I said hear me out.” Paul grabbed her hand before she could evade him.
She felt callouses and sweat. “I’m no good with words,” he repeated, “but I can tell you that meeting you changed my life. I couldn’t get you out of my head.
The last time I saw you, I told you I’d wait for fate to bring us together again.
But then I thought, why not take fate into my own hands?
I came here to tell you that I love you. I love everything about you.”
“You do, huh?” Emmy asked.
If he noted her sarcastic tone, he didn’t comment. “Yes. You’re smart and you’re funny. I love your sass and your confidence.”
“What’s my last name?”
That gave him pause, but he recovered quickly. “Details like that don’t matter. My heart’s in it, Emmy. You’re what’s been missing from my life. I need you. I need your laugh. Your voice. Your beauty.”
Emmy snorted despite herself. Her heart was pounding because he still hadn’t relinquished her hand, but she tried to keep a level head.
The man didn’t realize he was bespelled.
Technically, none of this was his fault.
She wondered if she should start rambling at him in Japanese.
Would that stop his tirade long enough for her to gain control of the situation?
“You’re beautiful, Emmy,” Paul insisted, clearly taking her earlier snort as one of disbelief at the compliment. “You’ve got all this gorgeous hair, and your lips… and I… it’s just… you’re perfect. Lovely. Exotic.”
“Oh, for the love of…” Emmy took a deep breath, tugged experimentally to see if she could free her hand, but he held on tight. “Do not call me exotic, Paul, for fuck’s sake.”
“What? Why not?”
Don’t bother explaining, Emmy, she told herself. It doesn’t matter. He’s a book character. Just get this asshole out of your house.
“Because I’m not a freaking iguana! I’m a human being! Just like you. Being Japanese doesn’t make me some kind of mystical, inscrutable creature, and I refuse to be flattered just because you chose to call me ‘exotic’ rather than ‘foreign’!”
Good going, champ, she thought sarcastically. Way to rein yourself in.
Paul blinked at her, a bemused expression on his face. She found she could finally retrieve her hand from his grip. She wiped it not-so-subtly on her pants, and then sighed.
“Paul, you need to go. I don’t know how else to—oh, for fuck’s sake!”
Paul had pulled a small, velvet box out of his pocket.
Though he faltered a little at her vulgar outburst, it didn’t stop him from dropping down to one knee.
When he opened the box, she saw a silver ring with a diamond big enough to put someone’s eye out.
At the moment, she was sorely tempted to try it…
on the man who was apparently proposing to her right now.
“Emmy, I want you to be my wife.”
“No, you don’t,” Emmy said. She was surprised to find that she felt more weary than anything else.
Paul frowned. “I do.” His smile returned. “See? I already know my line.”
“Jesus,” Emmy muttered. “Paul…”
“All you have to do is say ‘yes,’” he told her, his voice filled with what she had to admit was genuine emotion. “Say ‘yes’ and I’ll spend every day of our lives together making you happy.”
He really believed it, she realized. She didn’t know anything about him as a character, what role he’d had in the story before she’d popped into it. All she knew was that right here, right now, he believed he was in love with her. He believed they were destined to be together.
“Paul,” Emmy said again, relief filling her as she heard the telltale rumble of the garage door. The cavalry had arrived. She just needed to stall for another second. With Will here, they’d be able to get the guy back into his truck and on his way back to his farm in no time.
“Emmy,” Paul said, his voice soft. “Marry me.”
In the background, she heard the door open and close. Still stalling, Emmy said, “Watashi wa kurage desu.”
“That was beautiful. What does it mean? Is that how you say ‘yes’ in Japanese?”
Emmy heard Will’s footsteps. A second later, the sound stopped abruptly in the kitchen doorway.
“It’s ‘no,’ Paul,” Emmy told him, trying to keep her voice gentle. “I’m sorry, but I’m not for you. We’re not for each other,” she amended. “I promise you, I would never make you happy.”