Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 117

Emma sat in the chair, realizing that this argument–ridiculous as it was–had

somehow revived her energy.

She was just about to get up and change so she could go home when Theodore burst back into the room. “Why are you still here? Go home!”

Emma replied languidly, “Why am I here? I still need to see the gynecologist, remember?”

“What gynecologist?” Theodore’s expression darkened.

She smiled. “Dr. Fletcher told me. He said my husband had all sorts of questions about women’s health, so he recommended the best doctor at the Wellness Center. Dr. Fletcher even reminded me–don’t forget to see her after my Meridian Therapy

session.”

Theodore’s eyes flickered, just for a moment.

Emma arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Wasn’t the appointment for me? Then tell me, who else in your family needs a gynecologist?”

His face grew even more thunderous.

Emma decided to keep going. “I heard there’s also some therapeutic massage and herbal treatments involved. Mr. Whitman, if I take those medicine packs home, there’s nobody to give me the massage. What should I do?”

“What are you getting at?” Theodore’s voice was low and tight. If he still didn’t get the point, he was just refusing to see it.

“Oh right, can I have my medicine delivered to your office instead? You left your address and number, after all. Don’t worry, as long as you bring it to me, I promise I’ll take it on schedule. No need to watch over me,” she said, her smile cool and edged with sarcasm.

Finally, Theodore lost his patience. “What are you trying to say? Did you see something today?”

Emma just smiled, not saying a word.

“So you saw me, and didn’t say hello? Spying on me, Emma? Is that who you are

now?” His tone shifted from confusion to accusation, then to a scornful laugh. “No wonder Cici could never be your match.”

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Chapter 117

Emma was actually amused–so now she was the schemer?

“Theodore,” she said, the smile lingering on her lips. “If you insist on calling me manipulative, then at least I’m doing it for your sake. You already have a wife in your life. If I put myself out there too, where does that leave you?”

His frustration was palpable. “What’s your point with all this sarcasm?” He stepped closer, his voice tight. “Cici’s struggled with infertility–her last relationship ended violently because of it. It’s her deepest wound. As a friend, I brought her here because I know a good doctor. What’s wrong with that? Are you jealous?”

Still smiling, Emma shook her head. “No, I’m not jealous at all. You’ve got it all wrong, Theodore. If you want to watch her take her medicine, if you want to give her a belly massage, that’s your business. I won’t interfere. But I have my own rights and boundaries too. All I ask is that after you’ve massaged her, don’t touch me. I find it… distasteful.”

“What did you just say?” Theodore’s voice rose. “Say it again.”

Fine, if he wanted her to be blunt, so be it.

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “I said, I find it dirty.”

“You–you’re unbelievable!” he exploded. “Emma, let me make this clear. If you think you can use this incident to get Cici fired, or kicked out of the company, that’s never going to happen! I won’t allow it. Don’t even think about taking me on–you’re no

match.”

As he finished, his phone rang. He pulled it out, and both of them saw the screen: Baby Cici.

“Hello.” His tone softened instantly. “Cici, sweetheart.”

“Theo…” Cecilia’s sweet voice trembled on the other end, “Where are you? I’m scared…”

“Don’t worry, I’m here.” Theodore reassured her while looking straight at Emma. “I told you, I’ll get the best legal team. I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll be there soon.”

He backed toward the door, phone pressed to his ear, eyes never leaving Emma. Reaching the doorway, he gave her one last, hard look, then turned and hurried away.

Emma sat there, watching the spot where he’d disappeared, a smile still on her face.

That afternoon, she’d endured a brutal physical therapy session–her whole body felt like it had been taken apart and put back together again. Not once had Theodore asked if she was alright.

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He’d seen her sitting on the floor, soaked in sweat, and not bothered to ask what she’d been through, or why she was there.

But Cecilia? One tiny, trembling “I’m scared,” and Theodore was off like a shot.

Theodore, I used to be scared too–did you ever know?

But not anymore. There’s nothing left for me to fear.

She sat there for half an hour, waiting for her strength to return, then forced herself to change clothes and caught a cab to her grandmother’s house.

By the time she arrived, the sky was dark and the aroma of her grandmother’s cooking filled the whole yard. Emma closed her eyes, breathing it in. If there was anything left in this world that could still move her to tears, it was her grandmother’s love–and the future waiting for her far from here.

That night, Theodore didn’t come.

She didn’t feel even a twinge of sadness. Even knowing he was probably at Cecilia’s, giving her a “therapeutic” belly massage, Emma found she didn’t care. In fact, his absence was a relief. It meant she could spend her precious last days before leaving the country quietly, just being with her grandmother.

After dinner and a hot shower, her grandmother insisted on massaging her legs.

Emma agreed with a bright smile. She knew that if she tried to make excuses, it would only disappoint her grandmother.

So she gave her all–emotionally, at least.

When her legs began to feel warm from the massage, her grandmother’s phone started buzzing with a video call.

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