That Woman, Emma.

Justin

I hunched over, my fingers fidgeting nervously on my lap as I addressed Zaid, "Did you tell her that he is my brother?" My voice wavered with apprehension, the weight of the situation heavy upon me.

Zaid's response came with a sigh, his expression somber as he shook his head. "No," he confirmed, his tone conveying a mixture of understanding and concern.

A wave of relief washed over me, and I couldn't help but lean back in my chair, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of my lips. The tension that had gripped me moments ago began to ebb away as I processed Zaid's words. "That's good," I murmured, my mind already racing ahead to the next steps now that this particular hurdle had been cleared.

Victor remained unaware of the connection between Emma Flanagan and me, just as Emma herself was oblivious to the fact that Victor Hughes was my older brother. It was a delicate balancing act that I had maintained for months, a secret I had guarded closely. Yet, as I reflected on it now, I couldn't deny the importance of having someone like Emma in my life. She had become a trusted confidante, a source of comfort and support during some of my most challenging moments. In many ways, she was the silver lining to the storm clouds that had hovered over me since I came out to my family. With a sense of gratitude, I acknowledged her presence as one of the best things to have happened to me in recent times.

The Emma that Victor knows is not the same Emma that I've come to know and cherish.

But how could I possibly convey this to my brother? It's like trying to navigate a minefield without triggering an explosion. Victor's disdain for Emma is palpable, and Emma, in turn, remains tight-lipped about Victor and her past.

When I first encountered Emma, I had no inkling of her true identity. To me, she was just another Emma, one among countless others in the world. It wasn't until a month into our burgeoning friendship that I stumbled upon her last name, and by then, it felt too late to disclose the connection. By that point, I had grown accustomed to her presence in my life—a rare occurrence in itself.

I'll never forget the night she intervened, rescuing me from the clutches of a lecherous old man while I was hopelessly inebriated. Instead of abandoning me to my sorry state, she took me under her wing, offering refuge in her apartment until I could regain my bearings. Acts of kindness like that are few and far between, and Emma's selflessness left an indelible mark on me.

I vividly recall that tumultuous day. It was a dark chapter, marked by Chester's abrupt departure, leaving me shattered and adrift. Lost in a haze of heartache, I wandered aimlessly until I stumbled upon a dingy bar, seeking solace in the bottom of a glass. Suffice it to say, I imbibed until I was utterly inebriated. Were it not for Emma's timely intervention, that sinister figure lurking in the alley would have undoubtedly taken advantage of my vulnerable state.

If I'm being honest, waking up in Emma's apartment the following morning was disorienting, to say the least. At that moment, I only knew the Emma my brother Victor had painted for me—an image tarnished by his words and actions. Had I known her true identity at that juncture, I likely would have harbored resentment toward her. After all, I placed unwavering trust in Victor, believing every word he uttered. If Emma had revealed her past as the Emma my brother dismissed, I would have met her with hostility.

However, as Emma gradually confided in me, unveiling her struggles and past, I came to see her in a different light—a transformed Emma, distinct from the one Victor knew. In my eyes, everyone deserves a second chance, and if pressed to identify someone worthy of such redemption, I would unequivocally nominate Emma Flanagan.

Zaid's sigh signaled his impending departure, prompting him to rise from his seat. I couldn't suppress a chuckle, finding his nonchalant demeanor amusing. His quizzical glance in response to my laughter only heightened my amusement.