Chapter 38
Emmaline
I pressed myself against the wall in Adalyn’s narrow hallway, my back flat against the cool plaster, her one-eyed beagle, Bandit, wedged against my ankle like he somehow knew I was hiding from the world.
The hallway seemed impossibly cramped, lined with mismatched picture frames holding snapshots of Adalyn’s life—her with various rescued animals, family barbecues, shots of us from high school and after.
My pulse hammered so hard against my ribs I thought it might rattle those very frames right off their nails.
I hated that I was here—grown woman, bakery owner, hiding in a hallway like a kid waiting for punishment. But that’s what unworthy girls did, wasn’t it? They hid. They waited to be found wanting.
The knock came again, sharp and insistent, echoing through the small house like gunfire.
My best friend gave me a long, measuring look, her hazel eyes searching my face for answers I wasn’t ready to give. She waved at me to stay put.
“Hold your horses, I’m coming!”
She took her sweet time making her way to the door, her bare feet silent on the hardwood floors.
I pressed deeper into the shadows of the hallway, straining to hear every sound.
The creak of old hinges protested as she opened the door.
Bodie’s voice drifted back to me, low and urgent with an edge that made my chest tighten.
“Hey, Adalyn. Sorry to drop in like this. Have you seen Emmaline? She came by the station earlier, left upset, and she’s not answering her phone.
I—” He cut himself off, and I could imagine him running a hand through his dark hair, clearing his throat in that way he did when emotions threatened to overwhelm his composure. “I need to find her.”
I squeezed my eyes shut tight, my chest clenching around the rough, jagged edge of his worry.
The ragged concern in his voice hit me like a physical blow, and every cell in my body screamed at me to go to him, to step out of these shadows and into his arms where everything felt safe and right.
But Marla’s venomous words coiled tighter around my heart: He did it to soothe his guilty conscience. And when that runs out, so will he.
Adalyn’s drawl carried back through the door, easy as sweet tea on a summer afternoon. “Haven’t seen her, Bodie. But I’ll keep an eye out if she comes around.”
He sighed, and the sound scraped something raw and tender inside me, like fingernails on an open wound. “Thanks, Adalyn. I appreciate it. If you do see her, just… tell her I love her. And that I’m looking for her.”
The simple honesty in those words almost broke me.
But love had always sounded like this before—beautiful right up until the moment it wasn’t meant for me anymore. People said the word easy; they just never stayed to prove it true.
And if I wasn’t enough for my own mother, my own brother, how could I possibly be enough for him?
“I can do that. Good luck finding her, Chief.”
The door clicked shut with finality, and my knees nearly buckled. I slumped against the wall, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor, Bandit settling his warm weight against my side.
A few seconds later, Adalyn rounded the corner, her expression a mixture of concern and exasperation.
She planted her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed like a hawk focusing on prey.
“All right, ma’am. You’re gonna tell me why I just lied to your husband, the chief of police, and whether I need to fetch my shovel from the shed. ”
A weak, watery laugh escaped my throat despite everything. “You’d really swing a shovel at him?”
“Damn straight I would if he deserved it,” she said without hesitation.
Her expression softened a little. “But I don’t think he does, honey.
Not from what I just saw.” She cocked her head to one side, studying me with the same intensity she used when examining a sick animal.
“So spill it. What’s going on? And while we’re at it, how did you even get here? Where’s your car?”
“Ben’s hiding it in his garage,” I admitted, wrapping my arms around my knees. “He dropped me off.”
“Right.” She nodded. “Whatever this mess is, it calls for ice cream. Come on, sugar. Let’s get you fed and talked through.”
She herded me toward her cozy kitchen with its cheerful yellow walls and collection of animal-themed coffee mugs, Bandit trailing hopefully in our wake, his tail wagging at the prospect of dropped food.
I sank down at her round kitchen table, the familiar surroundings offering a small measure of comfort.
Adalyn bustled around, pulling a half-gallon of pralines and cream from the freezer and grabbing two spoons from the drawer.
She set the carton between us like a peace offering—or a bribe—and fixed me with an expectant look. “Talk.”
I stabbed my spoon into the ice cream with more force than necessary and scooped up a small bite, but my hand shook so badly that it fell right back into the carton with a soft plop. “It’s all a lie,” I whispered, the words scraping like glass in my throat.
“What’s all a lie?”
“What’s all a lie?” Adalyn asked gently, taking her own bite and waiting for me to find my words.
“Me,” I almost said, but the word stuck. “Our marriage. Everything. All of it.”
Adalyn stared at me for a long moment, spooned up a huge bite of ice cream, stuffed it into her mouth, and continued staring while she processed this information.
Finally, she swallowed and shook her head.
“Okay, you’re gonna have to explain that one, because last I checked, you two were practically glued at the hip and looking at each other like you’d discovered fire. ”
“You never asked how we got to this point.”
“I mean, you needed to get married for your inheritance. Everybody knows that.”
“But you never asked how I got here with Bodie.”
She shrugged, stirring her spoon through the melting ice cream. “Figured you’d tell me when you were ready. Guess that’s now.” Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “I take it you weren’t having some illicit Romeo and Juliet affair under the noses of your feuding families this whole time?”
I shook my head slowly and began to tell her everything.
The words came haltingly at first, then in a rush like water through a broken dam.
How the marriage had started as nothing more than a business arrangement to satisfy the archaic terms of Gran’s will.
How it wasn’t supposed to be real—just signatures on paper and separate bedrooms. How somehow, impossibly, it had turned into the truest, most genuine thing I’d ever experienced in my life.
How I’d fallen in love with him—hard, completely, irrevocably.
And how my mother’s poison and Wesley’s seething anger had left me gutted and raw enough to believe that maybe, just maybe, it had all been terribly one-sided.
By the time I finished, my throat was raw from talking, my palms damp from wringing them together in my lap.
Bandit had moved to rest his graying muzzle on my feet, offering silent comfort.
“It was all supposed to be a lie,” I whispered.
“And I was stupid enough to believe someone like me could turn it into the truth.”
Adalyn’s expression had softened during my recitation, though her posture remained alert and protective.
“Emmaline, honey, I think you made a mistake—but not the one you think you did. “You didn’t screw up by loving Bodie. You screwed up by letting your mama convince you that you don’t deserve to be loved back.
” She leaned forward, her voice taking on that firm tone she used when discussing difficult diagnoses.
“Your brother loves you, sure as the day is long, but he’s not exactly unbiased here.
Marla’s been twisting him up the same way she’s been twisting you.
That woman could make sunshine sound like a personal insult and Christmas morning feel like a funeral. ”
Tears blurred my vision, turning the cheerful kitchen tiles into watercolor smears. “But what if they’re right? What if it isn’t real for him? What if I’m just… convenient?”
“What if it is real?” Adalyn countered, her voice cutting through my spiral of doubt like a blade.
“What if you’re borrowing trouble that doesn’t exist?
Everything I’ve seen between you two looked more real than half the couples who walk into my clinic fighting over whose turn it is to pay the vet bill.
” She reached across the table and grabbed my hand, squeezing hard enough to ground me.
“Trust your heart, not her venom, Em. Your heart knows the truth.”
“I don’t know how.” The words broke on a sob. “I don’t know how to tell the difference anymore.”
“Talk. To. Him.” Each word was deliberate, emphatic. “You didn’t see his face when he came to that door just now. Girl, that man was absolutely gutted. That’s not the face of someone who’s only going through the motions.”
I shook my head, unable to stop the tears now that they’d started in earnest. “I just… I need time. One night. Please. I can’t face him right now, when I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”
Adalyn studied me for a long moment. Finally, she nodded. “All right. One night. But I’m not letting that man tear up half the county thinking you’re lying dead in a ditch somewhere. I’ll call and tell him you’re safe, that you need some space to think. That’s all he’s getting from me.”
Relief broke through the storm raging inside me like a fragile patch of sunlight through storm clouds. “Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you for understanding.”
She pulled me into a fierce hug that smelled like dog shampoo, coffee, and the lavender soap she favored. “That’s what best friends are for, sugar. Even when they’re being stubborn as mules.”
Adalyn released me and crossed to the counter where her phone sat charging next to a stack of veterinary journals. Bandit hopped up onto his designated chair at the table like he wanted a front-row seat to the upcoming drama.
“Sit tight, and try not to chew your fingernails down to bloody nubs while I handle this.”
I clutched the hem of my sleeve instead, my knuckles white with tension, listening to the faint electronic buzz of the line connecting. My stomach twisted itself into sailor knots, and I had to concentrate on breathing through my nose.
“Hey, Bodie,” Adalyn’s voice was calm, steady, matter-of-fact—the same professional tone she used with anxious pet owners when their dog had eaten something questionable and they were panicking. “Yeah, it’s me. I wanted you to know that Em’s safe.”
I pressed both hands over my face, my heart thudding so hard against my ribs I was convinced he’d somehow hear it through the phone line.
“She needs a little space tonight to sort some things out,” Adalyn continued, her voice taking on that no-nonsense edge that brooked no argument. “She’ll see you tomorrow morning at the hearing. That’s all I’ve got for you right now, Chief.”
Her mouth tightened into a thin line in a way that told me he wasn’t taking that answer easily, probably pushing for more information or demanding to know where I was.
She drew in a slow, deliberate breath, and added with unmistakable warning in her tone, “Look, Chief, don’t make me come after you with my shovel.
You heard what I said—she’s safe and sound. Give her the room she’s asking for.”
There was a pause that stretched long enough for me to count my own rapid heartbeats. Adalyn’s shoulders loosened, and she nodded once, apparently satisfied with whatever he’d said. “Good. Tomorrow morning, then. Get some sleep, Bodie. Bye.”
She set the phone back on the counter and turned to face me, arms folded across her chest in a gesture that was both protective and challenging.
“All right, mission accomplished. He’s worried sick—and I mean genuinely terrified something’s happened to you—but he’ll stand down for tonight.
You’ve got until tomorrow morning to figure out what story you’re telling yourself, Emmaline.
Because from where I’m standing, the one you’ve been listening to sounds a whole lot like your mama’s voice echoing in your head, not your own. ”
I wanted to believe her. God, I did. But the echo was louder. And the worst part was, it sounded like me.