Chapter 46
Emma pushed open the door to her apartment, her hand trembling slightly as it turned the handle. The dim light from the hallway spilled into the room, illuminating the neat but sterile space she had called home for months now. It was quiet—too quiet. As the door clicked shut behind her, the confrontation with Alex replayed in her mind, every word, every look etched into her thoughts like a fresh wound.
Her shoulders sagged as she leaned against the door, closing her eyes to hold back the tears threatening to fall. She had told herself she wouldn’t cry, that she wouldn’t let Alex’s pleas unravel her carefully rebuilt walls. But the memory of his voice, thick with regret, and the raw pain in his eyes when she told him it was too late, lingered like an ache in her chest.
He says he loves me, she thought bitterly, her heart twisting. But love isn’t enough—not after everything.
She set her bag on the counter, ignoring the dull buzz of her phone vibrating next to it. The kitchen light flickered, casting fleeting shadows across the room, as if even the walls could feel the weight of her turmoil. The tightness in her chest refused to subside, and for a moment, she thought she might collapse under the weight of her own emotions.
When she finally glanced at her phone, the name on the screen made her hesitate: Thomas.
Her thumb hovered over the screen. In the weeks since everything had fallen apart, Thomas had been her constant, the steady presence who listened when she needed to vent, who offered practical help when her world felt like it was spiraling. But tonight felt different. Tonight, she needed him in a way she hadn’t let herself admit before.
She answered the call, her voice barely above a whisper. “Can you come over?”
Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at the door. When she opened it, Thomas stood there, a subtle concern etched into his features. He was holding a small bag, the logo from her favorite café peeking out.
“I thought you could use something warm,” he said simply, stepping inside.
Emma managed a small smile. “Thank you.”
They moved to the couch in the living room, the quiet hum of the city filtering through the windows. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air between them thick with unspoken tension.
“What happened?” Thomas asked gently, his voice low but steady.
Emma hesitated, staring down at her hands. “Alex came to see me tonight.”
Thomas stiffened slightly, though his expression remained composed. “And?”
“He asked me to delay the divorce,” she said, her voice trembling. “He said he wants to try again, to fix what he broke. He said… he still loves me.”
Thomas leaned back, his jaw tightening, but he said nothing, waiting for her to continue.
“I told him no,” Emma added, the words coming out in a rush. “I told him it was too late. That I couldn’t go through it all over again.”
Thomas’s gaze softened, and he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “How do you feel about that?”
She let out a shaky breath, her eyes glistening. “I don’t know. Angry. Relieved. Sad. He’s put me through so much, and I know walking away was the right thing. But it doesn’t make it any easier.”
Thomas reached out, his hand brushing hers briefly. “It’s okay to feel all of that. You’ve been carrying so much for so long. It’s going to take time to let it go.”
Emma looked at him then, her eyes searching his face. There was something about the way he said it, the way he looked at her, that made her chest tighten. Thomas had always been her steadying force, but lately, she’d felt something shifting between them—something unspoken but undeniably present.
“I feel like I’m stuck between two worlds,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “I’m trying to move forward, but every time I take a step, something pulls me back.”
“You’re not stuck, Emma,” Thomas said firmly, his voice breaking through the fog of her thoughts. “You’re finding your way. And whatever happens, you’re not doing it alone.”
She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to where his hand still rested on hers. “You’ve been here for me in ways I didn’t know I needed. But I—” She stopped, struggling to find the words.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Thomas said softly, his voice tinged with a mix of restraint and something deeper. “I’ll be here, however you need me to be.”
Emma nodded, though her heart felt heavier than before. She knew he meant it, but the weight of his words only made her feel more torn.
When Thomas finally stood to leave, she walked him to the door, her mind still racing. As he stepped out into the hallway, he turned back, his gaze lingering on her for a moment.
“Goodnight, Emma,” he said, his voice low and full of something unsaid.
“Goodnight,” she replied, watching as he disappeared down the hall.
Closing the door behind her, Emma leaned against it, her hands trembling. Her thoughts were a tangled mess of Alex’s pleas and Thomas’s quiet strength.
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, she thought. Or what I want.
* * *
Across the city, Alex sat in his office at Barrett Industries, the room dim except for the glow of his computer screen. The files spread across his desk told a story he hadn’t fully understood until now—a story of Emma’s determination and the lengths she had gone to protect him, even when he had pushed her away.
Emails between Marcus and Thomas detailed their plans to expose Luka and Elliana. Financial reports showed the meticulous work Emma had done to trace the Diaz family’s corruption. And witness statements confirmed the danger she had faced every step of the way.
Alex leaned back in his chair, his chest tight with guilt. He had been so consumed by his own fears and insecurities that he hadn’t seen what was right in front of him: Emma’s unwavering loyalty and strength.
But it wasn’t just her efforts that gnawed at him—it was her in some way bond with Thomas.
The more Alex read, the clearer it became how integral Thomas had been to Emma’s plans. He had provided resources, connections, and emotional support. And while Alex had been absent, Thomas had been present.
The thought made Alex’s stomach churn with jealousy, though he knew he had no right to feel that way. He had been the one to walk away, to push her into someone else’s arms.
Still, the idea of losing her to Thomas was unbearable.
Alex closed the file in front of him, running a hand through his hair. For weeks, he had told himself that staying away from Emma was the right thing to do, that it was the only way to keep her safe.
But now, as he pieced together everything she had endured, he realized how wrong he had been.
She had been fighting for him—for their family—even when he had given her every reason to give up. And he had done nothing but fail her in return.
The clock on the wall ticked steadily, the sound filling the silence of the room. Alex stared at the stack of documents, his thoughts a tangled mess of regret, jealousy, and a growing determination to make things right.
She deserves better than what I gave her, he thought, his jaw tightening. But maybe it’s not too late to show her that I can be the man she deserves.
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