“Perhaps, I should rephrase it. If things don’t work out between the two of you.”
I slip the last plate into the dishwasher and carefully close the door.
“What do you mean?”
She wipes the kitchen table with a cloth as I lean back against the counter and fold my arms across my chest.
For a moment, my eyes follow the smooth motion of her hands.
A soft blush colors her cheeks.
“You said you are a friend of his, and he says the same thing, but I know you’re more than that. I see how you look at each other. And this sort of, um... thing leads to breakups all the time...” she says.
I freeze.
“I’m sorry if I’m blunt,” she continues. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I don’t have the luxury to sugarcoat it. It’s the reality.”
“No, no. There are no hurt feelings,” I say, rushed and nervous, a soft tremor claiming my fingers. “I completely understand,” I say, my voice suggesting something different.
Quietly, she rights the chairs.
“Well... Even if it happens, it won’t affect his job,” I say in a shaky voice.
She straightens and folds the kitchen cloth before setting it on the kitchen counter.
Her eyes come to mine.
“Not if he wants to leave,” she says, and my heart clenches.
My lips stay shut, tension clawing at my chest. I look at her, unable to speak.
Her facial expression shifts as she quickly changes the subject when she registers my reaction.
Minutes later, she sits at the kitchen table and starts working on her laptop while I head to Emma’s room, still unable to shake off the feeling stirred up by the conversation I just had with her.
I push the door open.
Sprawled on the bed, Jaden reads Emma a story while she cuddles up to him.
He studies me briefly.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah...” I say, nodding softly and slipping into a chair not far from them.
His voice is soft and gentle, his eyes glinting–– pure like hers––as he reads to her.
Her eyes follow the movement of his lips with unbridled interest before she shifts her gaze up and gapes at him, her hands touching his face with veneration.
I observe them in silence.
His words become a soft hum in the background while I examine his features, now showing so much tenderness.
He’s not an easy man to love. He bears too many scars. His heart’s a graveyard. And yet, I’m falling hard for him.
He flicks his eyes at me again, studying me while telling her the story. Emma’s eyes get smaller and smaller; her eyelids are heavy with sleep.
A moment later, her soft breaths trail across his chest. He lets her slide onto her bed and tucks her in.