James handed her the umbrella, his voice rough and a little strained.
“Here, you take it.”
Emmy had no choice but to grab the handle with one hand and loop her other arm around his neck.
He stood up easily, barely seeming to notice her weight, and strode into the falling rain.
She could tell—he wasn’t even trying.
The world shrank down to just the sound of rain smacking the umbrella, closing them off in their own little bubble.
Emmy’s heart was pounding, no matter how hard she tried to calm it down.
His back was broad and solid beneath her, and even through the thin fabric of his shirt she could feel the powerful muscles underneath. Strong, steady, safe. It was a feeling that wrapped around her completely—a kind of masculine comfort that made her want to let go of everything else.
Dean had carried her before, but it had never felt like this. Not so completely surrounded, not so safe that she could forget the whole world.
After a while, Emmy couldn’t help herself. She spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “About that night… I’m sorry.”
James didn’t say a word.
Emmy’s mind spun. He must be mad at me. Of course he is—what kind of decent girl gets brought home like that? He probably thinks I’m disgusting.
She hesitated, then forced the words out. “Maybe… we should just get a divorce.”
James suddenly stopped walking.
Rainwater slid down the edge of the umbrella, making a curtain between them and everything else.
“Why?” His voice was quiet but steady.
Emmy’s fingers curled, nerves making her whole body tense, but she pushed through. “I don’t want to lie to you. I broke my promise. You deserve someone better.”
He was patient, thoughtful, gentle—everything she’d ever wanted in a partner.
But her? She’d spent most of her life obsessed with Dean. She’d given everything to him, in this life and the last.
She was broken, used up. Dirty, even.
She suddenly couldn’t stand the thought of dragging someone like James down with her.
He didn’t say anything, just kept walking, her weight nothing on his back.

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