I've been watching the clock like a prison guard counts down to release time, pacing the living room for the past two hours. The house feels too big, too empty without Emily in it. Funny how someone so controlling can become your anchor point.
The sound of her BMW pulling into the garage at 8:45 makes my heart leap into my throat. I practically sprint to the connecting door, hovering there like an excited puppy as the engine cuts off. I can hear her heels clicking on the concrete, the rustle of fabric as she gathers her things.
When the door finally swings open, Emily appears framed in the entrance, tall and imposing in her charcoal suit, her blonde hair pulled back in a severe bun that somehow only enhances her beauty. She looks as exhausted as ever.
I don't give her time to put anything down. The second she steps through the threshold, I throw myself at her, wrapping my arms around her waist and burying my face against her chest. Her briefcase and purse hit the floor with twin thuds as I squeeze her like she's been gone for years, not hours.
"I missed you," I breathe against the silk of her blouse.
I feel the change instantly. Her entire body softens against mine, the corporate armor melting away as her arms encircle me. The tension in her frame dissolves like sugar in hot coffee, and she seems to shrink slightly, becoming less the intimidating lawyer and more just... Emily. My Emily.
"I missed you, too," she whispers into my hair. Her arms tighten around me, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of my head, fingers tangling gently in my hair.
We stand like that for what feels like forever, just holding each other in the doorway between the garage and kitchen.
"How was your day?" I ask finally, reluctantly pulling back just enough to look up at her face.
Emily pulls me back into her embrace, enveloping me in her warmth and the faint scent of her perfume.
"Long and annoying," she sighs, her breath tickling my ear. Then she plants a kiss on the top of my head, followed by another, and another. Each one is punctuated with a theatrical "mwah" sound that makes me laugh despite myself. Her smile is wide and playful as she peppers my head with kisses, her previous exhaustion seemingly forgotten.
"Lawnsanto just keeps lining up more poor farmers for me to silence," she continues between kisses. "But enough about that boring stuff. How was yours?"
"Mostly boring," I say, stepping back to let her fully enter the house. "Though my morning walk got ruined by some lady from down the street. Her car broke down, and she flagged me down for help."
Emily freezes mid-motion, her body going rigid. The warmth in her eyes hardens to ice so quickly it's almost frightening.
"What lady?" she asks, her voice dropping to that dangerously calm tone I've come to recognize.
"I don't know, just some neighbor." I shrug, trying to keep it casual despite the sudden shift in atmosphere. "Said her name was Charlotte. Had red hair."
Emily's fingers tighten on my shoulders, not quite painful but definitely intense. "What did she want from you?"
"She asked me to help her with her engine," I explain, trying to sound casual. "Said it just died on her."
Emily's face tightens even more. "Charles, you don't know anything about cars.
A piece of me deflates at her words. I was kind of hoping to be a car guy secretly, but clearly I’m not.
"I didn't help her," I clarify quickly. "She did talk at me though. She asked about the bruises, and after that, I was super uncomfortable, so I left."
Emily's eyes narrow, her gaze turning distant and calculating. I can practically see her brain working behind those green eyes, processing each detail like she's preparing for cross-examination.
"Did she have any other identifying marks?" she asks after a moment.
"Her eyes were Brown, I think?" I say, trying to recall the woman's face. "Or hazel? It was hard to tell in the sunlight."
"What kind of car?" Emily continues, her voice clipped.
"I wasn't paying attention to the make," I admit, "but it was a small black car."
"A sedan?" she presses.
"Yeah, a sedan."
Emily's brow furrows as she seems to mentally catalog every neighbor in our area. Her fingers tap rhythmically against her thigh while she processes the information.
Emily's forehead creases as she mentally flips through what must be a catalog of neighbors in her mind. After a moment, she shakes her head, confusion evident on her face.
"I can't think of any Charlotte with red hair in this neighborhood," she says, her tone growing sharper. "I don't want you talking to other women, Charles."
"I don't want to talk to other women either," I reply honestly.
She stares at me with an odd expression, like I've somehow both annoyed her and correctly answered a riddle she didn't think I'd solve. Her eyes narrow slightly, studying me with that laser focus that makes me feel like I'm under a microscope.
"I can't even think of any neighbors that match this Charlotte's description," she says slowly. "Are you sure that was her name?"
"Maybe she's from a few blocks away?" I suggest with a shrug. "Or just visiting someone?"
Emily's frown deepens, her irritation becoming more apparent. She opens her mouth to say something else, but I cut her off.
"Emily, I missed you literally all day," I say, stepping closer to her. "I don't care about Charlotte or any other woman. I just want to hang out with you."
For a moment, she gives me a glare so intense I almost take a step back. Then, like sunshine breaking through storm clouds, her expression transforms into something approaching unhinged happiness. The change is so sudden it's almost alarming.
She sighs, her shoulders relaxing as she reaches out to touch my face. "It's hard to be mad at you when you love me this much, you know that?" she says, her voice softening.
"I'm glad you think so," I say, giving her my best innocent smile.
Emily's eyes darken instantly. She closes the distance between us in one fluid step, her hands cupping my face with startling intensity. Before I can react, her mouth crashes against mine, hungry and demanding. Her tongue slips past my lips, claiming me with a possessiveness that makes my knees weak.
I melt into her kiss, leaning into it like I'm finally home after a long journey. My hands find her waist, pulling her closer as she devours me. There's something almost desperate in the way she kisses me, like she's trying to erase any thought of Charlotte or any other woman from my mind.
Emily breaks the kiss just long enough to look into my eyes. The passion burning there takes my breath away. Without a word, she grabs my hand, her fingers interlacing with mine.
"Come on," she says, her voice husky with desire.
We both know exactly what she means. My heart hammers against my ribs as she leads me toward the stairs, her grip firm and certain. I follow willingly, already forgetting everything else but her.