Ch. 8: An Unexpected Guest

There were things Emily had learned never to say aloud, and most of them were about she.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," Emily said. "I'm asking you to listen." Emily crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way she was watching without seeming to. The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered.

There was a history between them that neither would name, written in the things they did not do. Money could buy a great many things, she had learned, but never the one thing that was wanted most. Emily crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way she was watching without seeming to.

There was a history between them that neither would name, written in the things they did not do. The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered.

For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all. She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more.

She thought of all the versions of herself she might have been, and wondered which one he saw.

Emily crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way she was watching without seeming to. "I'm not asking you to forgive me," Emily said. "I'm asking you to listen." "I'm not asking you to forgive me," Emily said. "I'm asking you to listen."