19. Emily
Emily
My fingers fasten the last clasp on my dress and take a step back from the mirror.
The deep emerald-green fabric hugs my curves, the neckline dipping just low enough to be daring without screaming for attention. My hair is swept into an elegant updo, a few loose strands framing my face, softening my features.
I should feel excited. But I don’t.
Henry is not in the house. Not watching from the bed with his usual lazy smirk, teasing me about how long I take to get ready. Not lounging against the doorway, arms crossed, throwing out some gruffly delivered compliment that somehow still makes my stomach flip.
He’s not present.
And I hate that I notice.
Or that I care.
Or that I keep glancing toward the door like a lovesick idiot, half-expecting him to stride in, give me one of his broody, unreadable looks, and maybe—just maybe—crack a joke about how long it takes me to get ready.
Tonight is a big deal—the town’s official gala celebrating the launch of the new First Responder team, the improved medical facilities, the work I’ve poured myself into for the past few months.
And yet…
I stare at my reflection, my hands smoothing down the fabric, and I can’t help but miss him. Miss how he would have something to say about this dress and its slit up my thigh. Miss him grumbling under his breath, telling me I look like trouble in a way that would make my pulse spike.
Lately, he’s been pulling away and I feel the absence of him like an ache, like an itch under my skin I can’t scratch. My hand plucks my phone from the dresser, my fingers hovering over his contact before I finally type out:
Me: I’m ready. Heading out now.
The reply comes instantly.
Henry: I’m outside.
I blink, hurrying to the window to pull open the curtain and peering through them, and sure enough, his truck is sitting in the driveway.
That’s more a sign of him pulling away—Henry two weeks ago would have come up and knocked on the door and given his usual impatient “Let’s go, Doc,” at least.
But he didn’t bother with all of that and instead, he’s just… waiting.
That unsettles me more than anything.
I exhale, grab my clutch, and step outside. As soon as I climb into the truck, Henry leans toward me, and my heart jolts, expecting—hoping—for a kiss.
Instead, he reaches past me and buckles my seatbelt, his fingers brushing against my collarbone briefly before he pulls away.
I exhale through my nose.
Right. Okay.
The ride to the gala is quiet.
Too quiet.
I turn to him, trying to poke at the man who used to have something to say about everything. “So, what do you think of my dress?”
He barely glances at me. “It’s nice.”
Nice?
I know this dress is more than nice.
I huff, crossing my arms. “Wow. Try not to be so enthusiastic.”
His grip tightens on the wheel. “You don’t need my opinion.”
The words sting.
Because once, I did.
Once, he would’ve smirked, leaned in, whispered something in my ear that would have made me blush for days.Henry doesn’t say a word as I slide into the passenger seat.
His jaw is tight, hands steady on the wheel. A man carved from stone, unreadable as ever.
I sit there, waiting for something. A greeting. A glance. Anything.
Instead, he leans in, and for a heart-stopping moment, I think he’s going to kiss me.
My breath catches. My pulse stutters.
But then—
Click.
He buckles my seatbelt.
That’s it.
No teasing remark. No stolen glance. Just a simple, practical movement before he pulls away from the house, eyes locked on the road.
I let out a slow breath, my fingers tightening around my clutch.
“Nice to see you too,” I mutter.
Nothing.
Silence.
I glare at the side of his stupid, beautiful face, waiting for him to crack.
He doesn’t.
Fine.
I lean back, crossing my arms. “So… what do you think?”
He flicks me a glance. “About what?”
I motion to myself. “The dress. The event. The fact that you’re my date tonight, not my security detail, even though you’re treating me like a high-risk package that needs to be delivered in silence.”
His fingers tighten on the wheel. “You look nice.”
Nice.
Nice?
I did not spend two hours getting ready for a nice.
But before I can call him out, he adds, “And I expect the event to be filled with stuffy speeches, mediocre food, and too many people trying to talk to me.”
“Wow. What a glowing review.”
He exhales, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’m here to keep you safe, Emily.”
My stomach knots.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe some lingering warmth, some trace of the Henry I’ve had glimpses of over the past few weeks—the man who makes me laugh, who holds me like he doesn’t want to let go.
Now? Now, he’s acting like only my damn bodyguard. It sucks. And more than anything—it makes my chest ache.
The event is in full swing when we arrive—string lights twinkling overhead, the town’s finest gathered in their best.
Mayor Logan greets me with a firm handshake and a beaming smile, telling me about how grateful the town is for the new First Responder team and the improved hospital facilities. We’re quickly led to our table, but Henry disappears.
One second, he’s standing beside me, his steady presence grounding me. The next, he’s gone, slipping into the crowd like a shadow.
I try not to care.
I succeed for about three whole minutes then Maggie swoops in, gushing about how stunning I look and how “absolutely perfect” Henry and I are together.
I laugh, but it feels hollow. My eyes are looking around until I see him across the room, standing next to Chief Tom, chatting and grinning with the man, looking as relaxed as I haven’t seen him for days. The night blurs in a haze of handshakes, congratulations, and smiles.
Mayor Logan makes a speech, his words ringing in my ears—praising me, the work I’ve done, the difference the new team will make.
The room erupts into applause, and the guests circle around to congratulate me, including Dane.
I should be proud, I should be happy—but when I glance toward Henry, his face is unreadable.
Like none of this matters to him.
Like I don’t.
When the music starts and couples drift toward the dance floor, I find myself standing in a corner with Maggie, watching Henry from afar.
Maggie follows my gaze and frowns. “Okay. Spill.”
I shake my head. “There’s nothing to spill.”
Maggie crosses her arms. “Bull. You two were inseparable just weeks ago. Now, he looks at you like you’re his assignment, not his woman.”
I wince because that…that’s exactly what it feels like.
Maggie tilts her head. “Emily, you do realize this is solvable, right?”
I force a small smile. “What? You're gonna break out a magic wand?”
“No, genius. It’s called communication.”
I exhale sharply. “It’s not that simple.”
Maggie snorts. “Of course, it is. Talk to him. Push him. If you don’t, you’re just gonna lose him before you even have him.”
The words settle deep in my chest, heavy and suffocating.
I take a breath. Then I move.
Henry is still with Chief Tom when I approach and in my mind I tell myself that’s the perfect company to catch him with. He respects the man and he’ll obviously be open with him. Both Henry and Chief Tom’s are turned away from me so they didn’t see me approach from their blindside.
I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but I catch the end of a conversation.
Chief Tom’s voice booms, gruff but amused. “So what’s going on between you and the doc?”
“Why do you think anything is going on?” Henry’s answer is immediate.
“I’ve got eyes, son. Is it now real between you two, then?” Tom asks.
Henry exhales. “It’s complicated. But it’s definitely not real. There’s nothing between us.”
Something inside me shatters and I turn fast, my heels clicking against the floor, heart slamming against my ribs.
My grip on my clutch tightens. I need to get out. Away from him.
I turn, ready to get the hell out of here, but Henry sees me.
“Emily—”
“No.” My voice is too sharp, but I don’t care. “Don’t.”
His brows pull together. “Let me explain—”
My legs hurry across the hallway. “Emily.”
His voice is closer.
I clench my fists before turning. “I’m leaving.”
Henry frowns. “I’ll take you home.”
I force a laugh, sharp and cold. “I can take care of myself.”
His jaw tightens. “That wasn’t a request.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why do you care? Our relationship is fake anyway?”
His gaze darkens. “You know why.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Do I? Because from where I was standing, it sure didn’t sound like it.”
His expression flickers, but I press forward. “You keep pulling away, Henry. You pretend none of this means anything, and maybe it doesn’t. But don’t lie to me. Not when you’re lying to yourself, too.”
His nostrils flare. “Emily—”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m done. I am done playing this game with you.”
I storm past him, my heart fracturing with every step. As soon as I step outside the hall, a voice stops me.
“You deserve someone who actually cares about you.”
I turn sharply.
Dane.
“Were you eavesdropping?”
“I knew your relationship with him was too sudden.” He steps forward, his smile smooth, calculated. “Emily, come on. You don’t belong in this town. Not with him.”
His hand brushes my arm, and I jerk away. “Don’t.”
His expression hardens. “I’m just saying—he’s not who you need.”
I lift my chin. “And you are?”
His smirk returns, but I don’t stick around to hear his answer.
I spot Maggie coming down the steps and quickly head towards her. “Can you drive me home, please?”
She spares one look over my shoulder at Dane and then nods. “Let’s go.”
Following her to the corner where her car is parked, I climb in without hesitation. It was a silent ride all the way to the house and by the time I reach the house, my friend is staring at me with sympathy in her eyes.
“I’m okay,” I assure her and as I try to step out of Maggie’s car, headlights illuminate the driveway from behind us.
Henry’s truck.
Of course.
He pulls into the driveway and shuts his engine as well.
Maggie glances at me. “You want me to stay?”
I swallow, shaking my head. “No. I’ve got this.”
She hesitates before nodding, then I exit her car and she drives away. My legs carry me across the patio to the door and just as I get it open, Henry slams his truck door shut.
He stalks toward me, eyes burning. “What the hell was that?”
I cross my arms. “I left. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
He lets out a sharp breath, raking a hand through his hair. “Damn it, Emily. You don’t get to just walk away.”
I scoff. “Oh, but you do? Because that’s all you’ve been doing for days.”
His jaw tics. “This is different.”
“Is it?” I step forward, voice rising. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re running. Again.”
His eyes flash. “And you don’t know what you want! A few months ago, you wouldn’t have given me a second glance!”
Silence hangs between us, heavy and raw.
My throat tightens. “You’re right. I wouldn’t have.”
I take a shaky breath.
“But I see you now, Henry.” I step closer, voice trembling. “Do you see me?”
His Adam’s apple bobs, his fists clenching—
But he says nothing and that hurts more than anything.
I turn around, storm into the house and slam the door hard behind me.