Echoes

Chapter Five

The following morning, Emily awoke with a queasy stomach, engulfed in remorse. It was out of character for her to surrender so completely, let alone accompany a stranger home. "What was I thinking?" she thought, her hands on her face, hoping to stave off an impending migraine.

The scent of brewing coffee assaulted her senses. "Look who is awake," a familiar voice chimed in from the adjacent kitchen. It was only then that she realized she remained in Sean's home, sitting on his sofa.

"What happened?" she groaned, anxiety gnawing at her. Her memory drew a blank after three in the morning.

"You polished off your glass of water and then fell asleep," Sean gently reminded her. Emily's embarrassment was evident.

"Coffee?" Sean offered, but Emily hesitated, fearing a resurgence of last night's regrettable choices. Sean flashed a reassuring smile. "Don't sweat it. It'll do wonders," he remarked as he passed her a coffee cup. Emily paused for a moment before accepting the gesture. "Thanks," she murmured.

"You know," she began, a hint of uncertainty in her voice, "I'm not usually the kind of girl who trails men home from the bar." Her words served as both self-assurance and an attempt to reassure Sean. Anxiety simmered beneath the surface as she shared the admission.

"I gathered that," he chuckled, his response carrying a lightness that drew an eye-roll from her in playful exasperation.

Her eyes traversed the expanse of Sean's home, a sense of awe filling her. She found it nearly inconceivable that he dwelled here alone; the place was nothing short of spacious. An admiring sigh escaped her lips.

"There's one more thing," she confessed, a trace of trepidation in her voice. Sean regarded her with inquisitive eyes, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I'm a real girl's girl," she continued, her tone now tinged with concern. "I respect other women, and I don't toy with their men." Emily sighed, realizing her words might be misunderstood.

His eyes widened in surprise, and Sean appeared momentarily lost for words. He cocked his head in evident perplexity. Emily's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Your home," she stammered, her voice quivering slightly, "it's hard for me to believe that a straight man, and an attractive one at that, could decorate like this." Her embarrassment deepened, painting her cheeks a deeper shade of crimson.

Sean's response was a quiet admission, his expression carrying a tinge of melancholy. "I'm divorced," he finally revealed, his gaze dropping, sadness etched in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry!" Emily blurted out, an immediate wave of regret washing over her.

"No, it's perfectly understandable," he assured her, his tone gentle and reassuring. "My ex-wife, Linda, still works as my secretary," he explained, casting light on the unusual arrangement. "We utilize my study for my sessions, and this living room serves as a waiting area." His disclosure offered a measure of solace to her.

"Oh," Emily stammered, struggling to find words. The prospect of being entangled in the complexities of a man and his former spouse was the last thing she desired.

"I, uh, believe it's best if I leave," Emily announced, placing her coffee cup gingerly on a coaster atop the wooden coffee table before her. She rose from her seat, adjusting her skirt with a subtle, nervous gesture.

"Wait," he interjected, his expression bearing a compassionate warmth. Her gaze returned to him, filled with eager anticipation. "It's quite a distance back to your car," he gently reminded her, his hand casually finding its way to the nape of his neck, revealing the impressive bicep beneath the snug fabric of his black short-sleeved shirt.