Chapter 33
Emmeline couldn’t bear Luke being angry with her.
It had been an entire twenty-four hours since they’d spoken, and he’d held true to his word. Despite her messages and calls, he hadn’t replied, and she knew that he wouldn’t. Not until he saw her at the meeting with Anh tomorrow.
While she hated that he was angry with her, she knew she was doing the right thing. He needed this more than she did—why didn’t he understand that? It cost her nothing to make this sacrifice for him. She would do it gladly!
She walked down Main Street, holding a to-go cup from the Baby Dragon Cafe, but even the karak chai wasn’t enough to soften her mood. She was a tempest of emotions, the pressure building within her like clouds filling with water until they broke with rain.
She hadn’t meant to hurt Luke—of course she didn’t think he was selfish or self-centered. She was trying to do something for him, to do something for the man she loved.
What was so wrong with that?
She was determined for him to win. Which was why she decided she would show up to the meeting, then leave out the key points of her proposal. She would make sure Luke’s was better.
The situation would need to be handled with finesse. She couldn’t be obvious about sabotaging herself or Luke would only be angrier; at the same time, she couldn’t do a phenomenal job with her proposal and risk winning.
Emmeline paced down Main Street, finishing off her chai. As she passed one of the side streets, she spotted a familiar figure and paused.
She would recognize Ginny and Fang anywhere—but who was that guy she was talking to?
Emmeline stepped closer, recognizing the scar on his neck. It was Flint.
“For fuck’s sake,” she muttered, livid. Fierce protectiveness came over her. What was wrong with this guy? Emmeline didn’t hesitate. She stalked over, rushing to Ginny’s side. Fang made a sound of warning, and Ginny turned towards Emmeline, brows furrowing.
“Emmy, what—” Ginny started, but Emmeline ignored her, instead glaring at Flint.
“Whatever the hell is going on here is done,” she said. “Stay away from my cousin.”
Flint rolled his dark eyes.
“What are you doing?” Ginny seethed at Emmeline, annoyed. Emmeline ignored her, instead focusing her glare on Flint.
“Go on,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Flint gave Ginny a final glance. “Think about it,” he said, and then he left. Staring daggers, Emmeline watched him go, making sure he didn’t try and return. Once he was well and truly gone, Emmeline turned back to Ginny—only to find her cousin had already walked away.
Emmeline chased after her. “Hey!” She grabbed Ginny’s arm, and Ginny threw her off. “Ginny!”
Her younger cousin whirled on her, and Emmeline was taken aback by the furious expression on her face. Even Fang hissed at her, clearly upset by Ginny’s dark mood. Emmeline blinked, holding her hands up.
“I was only looking out for you,” Emmeline said, trying to keep her voice gentle.
“I can take care of myself, thanks,” Ginny said.
“Come on,” Emmeline replied. “Do you even know who that is?”
“Yes. He works with the people in charge of the races.”
Ginny had never kept it a secret that she was interested in dragon racing, but her dragon was much too young.
Fang may have had accelerated growth and an early first flight at seven months, but he was still only a year old.
The earliest a dragon could be saddled up was two, and even that was early.
The youngest they could enter the championship was four.
Even then, Emmeline knew not a single person in the entire extended Sterling family would approve of Ginny racing, even if Danny used to. He had died only a few months after winning his first championship.
“He’s dangerous,” Emmeline said. “Luke knows him and he’s a bad guy.”
Ginny rolled her eyes, and her cavalier attitude made Emmeline’s heart race with worry. She didn’t know too much about the races or the gangs that ran them, but she didn’t want to, either. It was an entirely different world, away from the cozy and comfortable hamlets of Starshine Valley.
“I can handle myself,” Ginny said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not as brittle as you all think.”
“I’m only trying to protect you—” Emmeline started again.
“Well don’t!” Ginny snapped, a nerve clearly struck. Her cheeks were flushed with anger. “You don’t have to take care of everyone and everything!” She shook her head. “You just use it as an excuse to run away from your own problems.”
They both paused, Ginny’s words hanging between them. Ginny’s eyes widened with regret, as if she had said too much.
“Oh my god?” Emmeline said, breaking the silence as she realized maybe Ginny was right. “I-I’m sorry,” she said. Maybe she could get a little carried away. “I shouldn’t have cut in. You are an adult.”
“Yes, I am,” Ginny replied. She released a long breath, looking up at the sky before turning back to Emmeline. “I’m sorry for being mean.”
Emmeline’s lips twitched as she looked at her cousin. “You don’t really look sorry.”
Ginny shrugged. “Well, what I said was true . . .”
“Yeah, but it was still brutal.”
“You’ll survive. You are my cousin, after all.” Ginny cracked a smile, and Emmeline laughed. She suspected that Ginny might be the strongest of all of them. “Now come on; you owe me a treat.”
Emmeline had no idea what for, but she looped her arm with her cousin’s. Sensing they had made up, Fang relaxed, happily jumping into the air to fly behind them as the girls walked over to the Rolling Pin Bakery, picking up gooey cinnamon buns.
The bakery was small, with only a table or two, so they stood by the counter, eating inside in the warmth. Luckily, the place wasn’t rushed, and Fang wasn’t fully grown, so the baby dragon hung out by their feet.
“I know you guys only look out for me because you love me, but it can be overbearing, sometimes,” Ginny said, picking apart her cinnamon roll. Her voice was smaller than before.
“When you love someone, you take care of them,” Emmeline said.
“I know, but it shouldn’t get to the point where you’re making the other person afraid,” Ginny said, still looking at her sweet treat. “Or overriding the other person’s autonomy.”
Emmeline nibbled on her lower lip. That was a valid point. “I guess sometimes things get out of hand,” she admitted. “It’s hard to realize when things have gone too far.”
“You can take care of people, but you have to let them make their own decisions, even if you don’t agree,” Ginny said. “Even if it isn’t what you think is best.”
“Since when did you get so wise?” Emmeline asked, picking apart her cinnamon roll.
Ginny lifted her chin. “I’ve always been wise; you guys just insist on treating me like a baby all the time.”
“Because you are our baby,” Emmeline teased, and Ginny glared. Emmeline held up her frosting-covered hands. “You’re right. I’ll be better, promise.”
Ginny smiled. “Good.” Then she grumbled, “And while you’re at it, tell Aiden, too.”
Emmeline raised her brows. “Hey, I’m not a miracle worker, okay? I don’t think Aiden is ever going to stop being protective of you. Especially since Danny—”
Ginny’s eyes shone, and she hastily blinked. She stabbed her cinnamon roll. “I’ll deal with him myself,” she said, ending that conversation.
“Good luck,” Emmeline replied. “To you and to him.”
After finishing off their treat, Emmeline hugged her little cousin goodbye, and they went their separate ways. She stood and watched as Ginny walked down the street, Fang flying beside her.
Emmeline still worried for Ginny, but Ginny was right: Emmeline had to let her make her own decisions, even if she didn’t agree or think it was best.
Calling Torch, Emmeline visited her parents’ place, where she had left Motu yesterday.
Haris’s winter class was almost over, and while Samreen was back from Millie’s, so she could have watched Motu now, Emmeline found she missed the little guy.
It was only another week, anyway, then Haris would be watching Motu himself.
At her parents’ place, Emmeline went to the kitchen, where Samreen was cooking a simple mutton curry for dinner.
“Hi, Ammi,” Emmeline said, kissing her mother’s cheek.
“Hello, jaani,” Samreen replied, stirring the pot. “Can you cut those tomatoes up for me?”
“Sure,” Emmeline said. Before she did, she went to kiss Motu hello; the baby dragon was playing with his toys in the living room.
She helped her mom cook dinner, the two of them chatting as they worked. It was nice. Emmeline asked her how it was being back at work after being away, and Samreen told her all about it.
It was a good distraction from worrying about Luke and the meeting with Anh tomorrow.
When dinner was ready, they set the table, then called everyone to eat together. Motu came to eat with them, sitting calmly on the side.
“He’s so well behaved,” Charles said. “Look how he’s eating his food.”
“He still has his moments,” Emmeline said. Motu gave her an adorable look, and she shook her head at him. It was impossible to be angry with him, anyway.
“Well, Haris’s class is almost over, so then he’ll have to deal with him,” Naveed said, tearing a piece off his roti.
“But if he’s studying and needs a babysitter, then I’m sure Emmeline can still watch Motu,” Samreen added.
Irritation flashed through Emmeline. She wasn’t going to say anything, the way she never said anything, but then she thought of that day she had been overwhelmed, when Motu had made the smoothie explode all over her kitchen.
Being overwhelmed wasn’t anything new, but what Luke had said had struck her. You’re allowed to be tired.
And if she was allowed to be tired, she was also allowed to say no.
“I could, but I think Haris can look after Motu, now,” Emmeline said.
Samreen frowned. “But—” she started, when Haris cut in.
“Yeah, I can look after him,” he said. “He is my responsibility, after all.”
“But medical school is so difficult,” Samreen said.
“I know, and I appreciate Emmy helping me out these past few weeks, but I can do it,” Haris restated, voice firm.
“Well, if you need help, and Emmeline doesn’t want to, I’ll help,” Samreen said, an edge in her voice. Guilt rang through Emmeline. She considered amending her refusal, when Haris let out a sigh.
“I can do it, Ammi,” Haris said. “If you let me.”
Samreen was offended by his tone. “I’m only trying to help.”
“I know, and I appreciate it,” he replied. “But I can do it, too.”
“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Naveed piped in.
Samreen looked harassed. “I’m just looking out for you all,” she protested, setting down her fork. “Is that such a crime? I am your mother. I just want you to be okay.”
Naveed leaned back in his chair. “But then you drive yourself crazy, or drive Emmy crazy, and then she drives us crazy,” Naveed said. “Just relax.”
“Yeah,” Haris agreed. “It’s not the end of the world if the house is a little messy or we eat out sometimes. You don’t have to tire yourself out doing all this work if it’s just going to put you in a bad mood. Then we feel bad, and what’s the point?”
Samreen and Emmeline exchanged a glance. It felt as if this was something the boys had discussed. She hadn’t realized they were paying attention or noticing such things, but maybe she had never given them enough credit.
“You do drive me crazy,” Emmeline admitted to Samreen, lips twitching.
“Well, I’m your mother,” Samreen replied, unapologetic. “It’s my right.” Her lips also twitched. The conversation changed, moving on, but her brothers’ words stuck with her.
It made her think about Luke, the situation with the investment. She was so adamant about doing this for him, but she hadn’t thought about how upset he was with her.
She wanted him to win because she loved him, but what was the point if that made him angry with her?