Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 14

Chapter 14

“I’ll ask him to come over,” Ms. Brown replied to the message.

But what Emma never expected was that Ms. Brown’s husband turned out to be Theodore’s new business partner–the very same man Emma had just met.

“He’s here in Cresthaven to discuss a deal. I thought I’d tag along for a few days to enjoy the town. Who would’ve guessed I’d run into you here? It must be fate…” Ms. Brown chatted as she introduced her husband, while Emma watched Theodore, Cecilia, and Mr. Brown making their way toward the tea lounge.

They finally reached the table.

Emma stayed seated, watching the color drain and then return to Theodore and Cecilia’s faces in rapid, vivid waves–flushed, then pale, then flushed again.

“Come, have a seat,” Mr. Brown said cheerfully. “This is my wife–she teaches dance. And this is Mr. Theodore, my business partner for this trip, and his wife.”

The word “wife” hung awkwardly in the air. Theodore’s hand gave a faint, noticeable tremor, and Cecilia shifted in her chair, clearly uncomfortable. Both of them stared anxiously at Emma.

Emma looked at them and gave a subtle, unreadable smile.

Ms. Brown introduced her in turn, “This is my student–back in the day, Emma was the one everyone thought would win the Orchid Cup.”

At the mention of the “Orchid Cup,” Theodore’s eyes dulled. He looked down, almost involuntarily, as if he wanted to glance at Emma’s leg.

Emma didn’t miss it. She saw, in that fleeting moment, the pain in his eyes.

Of course it hurt.

If she hadn’t injured her leg all those years ago, he’d never have married her out of obligation. That woman beside him–the real love of his life–would have been his wife from the start.

Emma smiled faintly. “Ms. Brown, Mr. Brown, actually, I-”

“Ah!” Cecilia shrieked suddenly, cutting Emma off.

Hot tea spilled everywhere–across Cecilia’s hands, her dress, the table.

“So sorry–oh my god, I’m so sorry, how clumsy of me!” Cecilia scrambled for napkins,

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Chapter 14

blotting up the mess.

“No worries, no worries,” Ms. Brown said, still oblivious, passing more napkins her

way.

One cup of tea, and Emma’s truth was left unsaid.

But if Emma really wanted to say it, could anyone have stopped her?

Across the table, Theodore shot Emma a desperate look, subtly shaking his head, lips silently mouthing, “Don’t. Don’t say it.”

Oh, she’d never truly meant to reveal anything–she’d only pretended to, just to watch the panic on their faces. That was all.

This afternoon tea: some squirmed like they were sitting on thorns, while others sat perfectly at ease.

As Emma lifted her cup, Ms. Brown suddenly noticed her hand. “Emma, are you wearing a wedding ring? Who’s your husband?”

The question landed like a thunderclap. Across from her, Theodore and Cecilia’s faces changed dramatically.

Emma caught Theodore’s hand, resting near his own cup, and let a sly, mocking smile curl her lips. He’d never worn his ring–not once. After their wedding, he’d slipped it off and left it to gather dust, who knew where.

“Yes, I’ve been married for five years now,” Emma replied coolly. “My husband’s name is Whitman.”

“What a coincidence–Whitman as well?” Theodore jumped in, his meaning clear: Don’t say another word.

“That’s right,” Emma said lightly, “Also Whitman. He’s in business as well–just not quite on the same scale as Mr. Whitman here.” She took a sip of tea.

Through the rim of her cup, she saw Theodore exhale in relief.

“Well, isn’t that something? Next time, bring your Mr. Whitman along–we’ll all have tea together.” Because Emma was Ms. Brown’s student, Mr. Brown was especially courteous, extending the invitation.

Theodore’s expression flickered again.

Emma almost wanted to laugh. In five years of marriage, she’d never seen as many expressions cross his face as in this one afternoon.