One after another.
He didn’t answer.
His mind ran backward through six years, reprocessing memories like film burned and then restored.
Emma at his mother’s dinner table, smiling politely while Catherine made “jokes” about poor girls marrying up.
Emma correcting his pronunciation of French wine names without arrogance.
Emma navigating a corporate holiday party with effortless composure while Derek’s CEO looked at her like he recognized her from some distant, untouchable orbit.
Emma refusing gifts, refusing luxury, refusing anything that might make Derek suspect.
Because she hadn’t wanted to trap him.
She had wanted to test him.
And he had failed in the only moment that mattered.
“We need to go back,” Derek whispered, reaching for the ignition.
Veronica slammed her hand over his. “Are you insane? Her father’s people will be there. They’ll destroy you.”
Derek turned toward her, and for the first time he saw her clearly. Not as glamorous. Not as exciting.
As calculated.
“You told me she trapped me,” he said, voice shaking. “You told me she was nothing.”
Veronica’s eyes flashed. “Because she was acting like nothing. Don’t pretend you treated her badly because of me. You treated her badly because you wanted to.”
The truth hit Derek like a punch to the throat.
His phone rang again.
This time it was his mother’s landline.
Derek answered with numb fingers. “Mom?”
The sound on the other end was not his mother’s voice.
It was a wail.
Leave a Comment