Tying the knot... or not?

~8~

Theo stared at Emily in shock as she took a couple of shaky steps backwards, finding the wall with her hands so she could lean on it, the phone slipping through her trembling fingers and bouncing onto the carpet beside her. All the blood seemed to have drained from her face and her eyes looked glassy under the muted light in the cinema corridor.
'Emily?' He made a move towards her, but pulled himself back from touching her at the last second.
He didn't know what to do. He felt he should attempt to comfort her somehow, but he had no idea how to go about it. Dealing with this kind of emotion really wasn't his thing.
'How?' he asked instead, mentally kicking himself at how flippant the question sounded.
Emily didn't seem to notice or care though, judging by the blank look on her face. 'A massive heart attack and a bleed on the brain,' she replied, her tone emotionless and flat.
She bent down and scooped her phone up off the floor, her grip so strong it turned her knuckles white. 'The funeral's tomorrow in Guildford,' she whispered, her voice catching on the last word.
Theo's heart went out to her. She suddenly looked so vulnerable and lost - certainly nothing like the peacock-proud Emily he'd known for the last few weeks. He felt an overwhelming urge to draw her into a tight hug against his body, to soothe her, but he knew that would be a mistake. He couldn't possibly give her what she needed.
'Are you going to go?' he asked quietly.
She shook her head. 'I don't think so.'
'You should,' he said, before he could stop himself.
It really wasn't his business, but he had experience with funerals and grief, and if he could offer any advice, it would be to go through it now so she could put her mother to rest in her mind and not let it ruin her life later, in a slower, more painful way.
'It could help, Emily - to get you some sort of closure.'
She stared at the floor for one long minute before nodding. 'I guess I should say goodbye... even though she never extended the same courtesy to me.' She drew in a sharp breath, almost like a hiccough of grief.
'Are you okay?' Theo asked, reflexively putting his hand on her arm and feeling her tremble under his touch.
She nodded, then shook her head, clearly unable to speak.
'Let me take you home,' he said, sliding his arm around her shoulders for support and gently propelling her forward towards the exit.
And then, as if she hadn't already had enough bad luck, Marnie from the Daily Courier chose that exact moment to appear at the top of the corridor and give them both a curious look as she passed them on her way to the restrooms.
'Everything all right, Emily? You look like you've seen a ghost,' she said, her beady eyes sweeping over the two of them.
'She's fine,' Theo replied tersely, guiding Emily away, towards a quiet side exit, his arm still wrapped tightly around her.
Emily felt numb. And curiously empty.
Out in the neon-lit night, Theo walked her round to one of the quieter roads and managed to hail a cab while she stood staring sightlessly at the pavement.
Her mother was dead.
And not just in her messed-up imagination any more. She was really gone this time.
She let him manhandle her into the taxi, grateful that someone else was making the necessary decisions, taking control of the everyday motions that she felt strangely unable to handle right at that moment.
After a little gentle coaxing from Theo, she mumbled her address to the driver and sat back stiffly in the springy seat next to him as they drove slowly through the busy streets of central London.
Twenty silent and hollow minutes later they reached her house in Notting Hill and she got out on shaking legs, walking swiftly towards her front door while Theo paid for the cab.
He joined her just as she'd managed to get the key into the lock on her third try. It was almost like being drunk, this feeling of floating outside herself, unable to make her limbs and brain function properly together.
Walking into her home, she was only aware that he'd followed her when she heard him close the door behind him and cough gently.
She whipped around, her hands raised as a barrier against him. Now she was in the safety and familiarity of her own place she just wanted to be left alone to process everything.
'You don't need to stay with me. I'm fine.' She turned away from him, heading straight for her bedroom.
'Are you?' he asked, following her.
As she reached the door, he caught up with her and spun her round to face him. His brows were drawn down and his eyes radiated concern.
She didn't want his sympathy. Didn't need it. She could do this on her own. Or with her best friend's help.
'Yes. Anyway, I'll call Lula if I need someone.'
'On her honeymoon?'
His point made her freeze in shock. He was right. She'd forgotten that Lula was away. There was no way she could interrupt her friend's honeymoon with news like this. Lula would feel as guilty as hell about not being there for her and it would ruin her holiday.
She knew she could always rely on her friend to be a shoulder to cry on, but Lula had Tristan now and he should be her top priority. Before Lula had got married, she'd always had her friend there, rooting for her. Supporting her. Loving her. But now, she realised with a sick, sinking feeling, there was a great gaping hole in her life that she had no idea how to fill.
She was going to have to deal with this alone until Lula came back.
The thought of it made her cold with fear.
She had other friends she could call, of course, but no one she was emotionally close to. She kept most of her relationships light and frivolous, preferring to have lots of easy, non-demanding acquaintances. Plus, none of them even knew her mother had been alive. She'd told them all she was dead, and she didn't want to have to go through the humiliation of having to explain her painful past to someone else right now.
Apart from Lula, Theo was the only other person who knew the truth of the situation - but having him seeing her break into little pieces wasn't something she was prepared to let happen. He'd probably run a mile if she broke down on him now. And who could blame him? Dealing with this kind of thing had never been part of their deal.
'I'm fine, Theo, you don't need to stay,' she muttered, walking into her bedroom, praying he would get the message and turn around and leave.
But instead, he followed her.
'Why are you still here? I told you I'm okay,' she said with her back to him, lacing her voice with irritation in an attempt to repel him.
'Because you need someone to look out for you right now. Someone who's willing and able to put up with your nonsense and know it for what it really is.'
She snorted with disdain and turned to look at him, her heart thumping in her chest. 'And that is...?'
He took a deep breath, fixed her with his dark gaze and took a careful step forward. 'Fear, and an unhealthy proclivity for self-loathing.'
Hot anger flashed through her and she shot him a look of disgust. 'I don't hate myself.'
He didn't say anything, just kept looking at her with an infuriatingly shrewd expression.
'I don't, Theo.'
He still didn't say anything.
His knowing silence was the last straw.
'Who do you think you are, coming in here and saying things like that to me?' she spat. 'You don't know me. Sure, we've had sex and some fun over the last few weeks, but that doesn't mean you've got into my head, Theo.' She was shaking now, her whole body tense with rage.
'I know you, Emily,' he said calmly.
She lost it, marching forward and swiping a dismissive hand towards him. 'You don't!'
He grabbed both her hands and held on to them, trying to calm her.
'Get off me!' she shouted in his face, her breath rasping painfully in her throat.
He let her go, then shook his head, his brow furrowed.
His silence enraged her even more. 'Get out of my house! I don't want you here. You're not welcome!' she yelled.
He took her insults, resolutely refusing to rise to them.
He wasn't giving her anything back - just shutting her out like he always did.
She wanted to hurt him - needed to see the same pain she was feeling reflected back at her in his eyes.
'Why so quiet, Theo? Afraid to stand up to me? Just like you're afraid to stand up to your own mother? You'd rather lie and sneak around behind her back than talk to her straight and tell her how you feel. Because you're a coward!'
Her caustic words finally seemed to penetrate through his emotional defences and the expression in his eyes grew hard with anger. But to her frustration he still refused to say anything back to her, instead clenching his jaw, making a muscle tick in his cheek.
Desperation clawed at her. She needed a reaction from him. Any reaction. Just to prove she'd made some kind of impact on his consciousness. That perhaps he cared about her more than he let on.
Because she cared about him.
The realisation hit her like a punch to the chest, knocking the breath out of her lungs.
'Say something, Theo,' she begged, her voice now wobbly with the emotion she was frantically trying to hold back.
He opened his mouth, his dark gaze boring into hers, and for one precious second she thought he might speak. But then he shut his mouth again, his expression detached and unyielding. He gave her one last cold look before turning and walking away.
She listened to his footsteps thundering down the stairs, then the swish and slam of the front door as he left the house, and her heart sank deep into her gut.
He was gone.
He'd deserted her - just like all the other men in her life. Not that she hadn't pushed him to it, but he clearly didn't care about her enough to fight back.
Slumping onto her bed, she put her head in her hands and took some deep, controlling breaths to stop herself from hyperventilating, feeling more alone than she'd ever felt in her life.
She had no idea how she was going to get through tomorrow without his comforting strength by her side.
And the thought of having to deal with her father's cold contempt on top of everything else made her gut sink with misery.
Taking a deep, bolstering breath, she smoothed her shaking hands down her hair and mentally pulled herself together.
She was just going to have to do what she always did.
Put a brave face on it.
Theo walked around the streets for an hour after leaving Emily's house, finding cold comfort in his solitude, and focusing on the heavy slap of his feet against the pavement to try and keep his mind off what she'd said to him.
After his anger had finally faded to a dull glow in his stomach, he allowed himself to turn it over in his mind. She was right, of course. He'd known it deep down in his gut as soon as the words had left her lips.
He was a coward.
He shouldn't have let his mother railroad him the way she had. It was actually pathetic, how he'd resorted to lying to her to get her off his back instead of having an honest, frank conversation and sorting things out once and for all.
But honest conversations had never been his thing. Nor had dealing with the dark swirl of feelings he'd been battling for years now. His foray into the futile world of losing himself in willing bodies had plugged the gap for a while, but once he'd realised it could only be a temporary measure, he'd pulled himself out of it - only to be left feeling exposed and lonely. So he'd hidden away from the world. But he still wasn't free. Not until he faced up to what it was that kept him so emotionally aloof from everyone in his life.
He'd accused Emily of being afraid and not loving herself, but he was just as guilty of that as she was.
More, probably - because at least she threw herself into new experiences. He hid. Like the coward he was.
He stopped outside a quiet-looking bar on the street, realising it was late and the city was winding down. It would be so easy to step in there and find solace in the bottom of a bottle of whisky, like he used to; maybe even pick up a willing bed partner. But he knew he wasn't going to do that. He couldn't live with the shame of giving in to that again - not when Emily was being so brave.
Deciding it was too late to try and get home, he walked to the nearest hotel and booked himself into it for the night.
Slumping fully clothed onto the bed, he let the memories of the last few weeks play through his head, ending with the last few minutes he'd spent in Emily's company.
He couldn't stop thinking about how wild her eyes had looked when he'd held her away from him, and then how hurt when he wouldn't react to her after her tirade against him.
He rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. He should stop being such a fucking wuss, shying away from anything vaguely resembling strong emotion, and do something - something helpful.
He wondered whether she was asleep right now.
He doubted it.
The thought of her driving herself to Guildford in the morning made his gut clench with worry. There was no way he could let her do that - it would be negligent of him as a fellow human being.
She probably wouldn't want him there, but he couldn't in all conscience leave her to deal with the funeral and her hostile family on her own in case they broke through her bubble of protective denial and she found herself having to deal with some truly horrendous feelings alone.
He knew how it went. He'd been through it himself twice already - once with Hugo, then again a few years ago when his father had passed away.
With that decided, he closed his eyes and finally allowed himself to drift off to sleep, feeling more positive and self-assured than he had in a very long time.
After waking early Theo took a shower, then redressed in the dark suit and tie he'd been wearing last night for the film premiere, the kismet of it giving him a small zing of satisfaction.
This was right. It was meant to happen.
She answered the door to him wrapped in a towel, her hair wet and hanging loose round her shoulders.
'What are you doing here, Theo?' she whispered, a mixture of shock, wariness and what looked suspiciously like hope flickering in her eyes.
He rubbed a hand through his hair. 'I've come to drive you to the funeral. I can stick around all day today. I don't have anything at home that needs my attention,' he said, refraining from adding 'as much as you do' to the end of the sentence.
She must have felt the implication, though, because she gave him a scathing look and wrapped her arms around her middle. 'You don't need to do that, Theo. It was never part of our deal. You don't need to play the role of comforter. We're not in a proper relationship, remember?'
He sighed. This was going to be tough. She'd make sure it was. 'I know I don't need to. I want to. And, so what if we're not in a traditional relationship? I'm not going to just walk away and leave you to deal with this on your own.'
She batted away his concern. 'You should. This has nothing to do with you. No good can come of you sticking your nose into the mess of my family's affairs.'
'Don't be so fucking obtuse, Emily. I'll decide what is and isn't good for me. I'm coming with you to the funeral,' he said, putting up a rebutting hand before she could object. 'This isn't open for discussion. I'll drive you there and stand near the back, so you can find me if you need me or ignore me if you don't.'
She was staring at him with wide eyes. 'You'd do that for me?'
'Yes.'
'Even after what I said to you last night?'
'Yes.' He didn't look away, just kept his eyes locked with hers.
After a moment her gaze dropped to the floor and her shoulders drooped. 'I'm sorry.'
'Don't be. You were right. But we don't need to dwell on that right now. You have more important things to deal with. We'll talk later.'
Dragging her gaze up, she raised an eyebrow. 'Really? You mean you'll actually talk to me?'
He almost reacted with a sharp retort until he saw the teasing in her eyes. Leaning on the doorframe, he gave her a pointed look. 'Only if you let me in.'
After staring at him for a long moment, she finally gave him a curt nod of acceptance. 'Okay. You can drive me. I'd probably be a danger on the roads today anyway.' She took a step back so he could walk inside. 'I'm going to get ready. Help yourself to some coffee if you want it,' she said, gesturing towards what he assumed was the kitchen.
Swivelling on the spot, she disappeared up the stairs and he heard her shut the bedroom door behind her with a slam.
Going into the kitchen-diner, he poured himself a coffee and leaned against the counter while he drank it. The room was done out simply, with tasteful furnishings and just a little pizazz - like the purple velvet chaise longue that she had pushed up under the window. It was Emily all over.
Some alien feeling made him drag a tight breath into his lungs but he shoved it away, refusing to let anything get to him today. She needed him strong and steady, and he wasn't about to let any chinks in his armour make him vulnerable.
She emerged from her bedroom ten minutes later in a tight black dress which showcased her amazing cleavage and curves. Clearly it was in defiance of her father - she'd mentioned he wasn't exactly a fan of her overtly sexual image.
He attempted to keep his incongruous bodily reaction to the sight of her looking so incredibly sexy hidden by holding the magazine he'd been reading in front of his crotch, but she wasn't fooled. Pulling the supplement out of his hands, she stared down at the tent in his trousers with a raised eyebrow.
'Do we need to take care of that before we go?' she asked, with a lilt of amusement in her voice.
He stared at her, shocked by how breezy she was being, how unaffected - until he realised that the hand she was holding the magazine with was shaking. Clearly, she was using the distraction of sex and humour to mask her real feelings.
As usual.
'I'll be fine,' he said, reaching out and pulling her in for a hug.
After a moment's resistance she sank into his arms and allowed him to rock her gently.
'You'll be fine too,' he whispered into her hair, praying he was right and that the funeral wouldn't be the trial of fire he was afraid it might turn into.
Grabbing her car keys, she led him out of the house to where her tiny car was parked and he folded his long legs awkwardly into the driving seat.
'This car was definitely not designed for men of my height,' he grumbled, pulling the seatbelt across his body and snapping it into the buckle.
She snorted and smiled at him. 'Oh, I don't know... I think you look cute all bunched up in my little car.'
He let out a snort of derision. 'Cute, indeed.'
Her laughter rang in the tiny space as he pulled out into the heavy London traffic.
It took them an hour to drive just south of Guildford, where she told him she'd grown up badly, and where her father still lived with his partner, Betty.
They managed to find a parking space easily at the cemetery, and he pulled on the handbrake and killed the engine before turning to check on her.
Her face looked pale in the late-morning sunshine.
'How are you holding up?' he asked gently.
'Fine. I'm fine.' She nodded, as if trying to convince herself of the fact.
'Are you ready?'
She turned to him with a look of defiance on her face. 'As I'll ever be.'
He went to open his door and get out but stopped when she put a hand on his arm.
'Theo? I just wanted to say sorry in advance for anything you might see or hear today. Seriously, knowing my family, anything could happen.'
An image of someone flinging themselves on top of her mother's coffin before it was lowered into the ground flashed into his head, but he dismissed it quickly. He didn't think that was what she meant. Based on what she'd told him about her family already, he wasn't expecting it to be a fond, emotional get-together.
'Don't worry about me; I can handle anything that's thrown my way today. Just concentrate on getting yourself through it. As I said, I'll stand near the back, if you like, so I don't encroach on anything.'
She frowned and flapped a hand at him. 'Don't be ridiculous. You stand next to me. I'm not letting anyone tell me who I can and can't bring with me to my own mother's funeral.'
He knew she was referring to her father but didn't feel he needed to voice it.
They walked together, hand in hand, to where a small group had already gathered around a coffin in the middle of the graveyard. He felt Emily's grip tighten as they got closer and noticed a tall, handsome man and an older, shorter man, whom he assumed were her brother and father, standing talking together.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Emily throw back her shoulders and felt her pull him forward as she increased her stride towards them. They stopped just in front of the small group, and they didn't need to wait long before both men turned to look at them - her brother apparently surprised and pleased to see her, her father not so much.
'Emily,' the older man said coolly, affording her only a slight inclination of his head.
'Dad, Jake - this is Theo,' she said, turning to look up at him and give him a smile, which he returned.
He held out his hand to her father, wondering whether the man would have the guts to refuse it.
He didn't.
They shook hands quickly, but firmly, and he turned to shake hands with her brother Jake too.
Just then a middle-aged, petite woman with dark hair cut into a neat bob hurried up to them. 'Michael, the vicar would like a word with you before we begin,' she said.
Emily's father gave her a sharp nod and turned and walked off without bothering to excuse himself.
'Still as charming as ever, I see,' Emily muttered.
'He's finding it all a bit hard to deal with,' the woman with the bob said.
Emily turned on her. 'Really, Betty? I'm sure it must be just awful for him to have to finally admit he had a wife he locked away for years whilst all the time pretending he was actually married to you.'
The woman's face turned pillar-box red. 'Yes, well... I'd better go and see if they need me too,' she mumbled, and scurried off in the direction that Emily's father had gone.
'That was a bit harsh, Em,' Jake said, folding his arms against his chest.
'You think? I don't,' Emily replied, crossing her own arms and staring him out.
Before there was a chance for either of them to say anything further the vicar leading the ceremony called them over and they all shuffled into position in front of the coffin.
Theo held her hand all through the short ceremony, feeling her swaying gently beside him as she stared resolutely in front of her, clearly determined not to cry. He admired her fortitude; he'd cried like a baby at Hugo's funeral, and had even shed a tear at his father's - even though they hadn't been as close as they once were.
When it was finally over, and the coffin had been lowered into the ground, the small party started to drift away. Emily turned and pulled on Theo's hand, as if to ask him to leave quickly with her.
'Don't you want to say goodbye to your brother?' he asked, knowing she'd need a bit of a push to get past that iron-clad pride of hers.
'I don't have anything to say to him,' she said stiffly.
He stopped short and tightened his grip on her hand, urging her to a standstill. 'Emily, I know this isn't any of my business, but if I were you, I'd want to at least reconnect with my brother and see whether there was any chance of making things right. I know what it feels like to be cut off from family and, honestly, if I had the chance to make things right with a brother I wouldn't hesitate. None of this was his fault either, and judging by the look on his face when he first saw you, I suspect it would mean a lot to him if you at least gave him the opportunity to say his piece. He's probably hurting too.'
She stared at him for one long moment, a whole range of emotions flitting over her face until she finally alighted on resignation. 'Okay. Fine. I'll talk to him - but that's all.'
'Good.' He nodded, surprised but pleased that he'd been able to get through to her. It wasn't like him to get involved in someone else's affairs, but he knew if he didn't at least make her stop and think about how to make things easier on herself no one else would. 'I'll wait for you in the car,' he said, brushing a stray piece of hair away from her face and giving her an encouraging nod.
'Okay. I won't be long,' she said, turning and walking away, towards where her brother was standing talking with the bobbed-haired Betty.
As he walked back to the car a movement in the distance caught his eye and he saw what he thought looked like a flash of sunlight on a camera lens.
Who'd want to take photos in a graveyard? he wondered idly to himself, opening up her car and shoe-horning himself back into it.
Emily walked over to where her brother stood with Betty, her legs shaking less now that the ordeal of the ceremony was over. She'd been terrified of breaking down in front of everyone, and it had only been Theo's robust presence next to her that had kept her strong. He'd been amazing today - truly amazing.
Her insides did a strange little jump at the thought of it.
Jake looked round as she approached, with a surprised but pleased smile on his face.
'Emily - I thought I saw you leaving?' Jake exclaimed.
'I came back.'
He nodded. 'Listen, I'm sorry, but Dad had to get back home quickly for something business related. He said to say goodbye,' he said, glancing over his shoulder.
She gave a sarcastic laugh. 'No, he didn't, Jake. Why the hell are you covering for him?'
He looked uncomfortable. 'Because I don't think he's right to treat you the way he does.'
'Well, that's big of you - considering you've always been Dad's protégé.'
Jake sighed and ran a hand over his jaw. 'Look, I just wanted to say that I know things were tough when we were young, and I realise that as the oldest you caught the brunt of it all. I was the protected, coddled younger one, and I acted as though you were part of the problem, but I was wrong to do that. I'm really glad you came here today because I wanted the opportunity to say sorry.'
She stared at her brother, sadness rising from deep within her. They'd both been victims, and so young when their world had crashed down around their ears. It was no wonder they'd reacted so badly to it all.
'Apology accepted. And I'm sorry too, for being so impatient with you. It just felt like Dad was always on your side and I didn't handle that well.'
He frowned and went to deny it, but she batted his objection away.
'You always were Dad's favourite. I reminded him too much of Mum, and no matter what I did, or how hard I tried to be who he wanted me to be, he never loved me like he loves you.'
Jake gave her a supportive but sad smile. 'He's not an easy man to please. It's not your fault.'
'Yeah, that's what I keep telling myself.'
Jake rubbed a hand over his brow. 'Look, I understand why you don't want anything to do with Dad - he's never handled things well - but please don't cut yourself off from me forever too. I want to get to know you again, Em. Please give me a chance to.'
She sighed and scuffed her toe against the grass. 'I know it's been a long time since we last spoke properly, and that's mostly down to my stubbornness.' She folded her arms across her chest. 'Maybe it's time to put the past behind us.'
'I'd like that.'
She nodded. 'Okay. Although this isn't exactly a great place for a family reunion, is it?' she said, looking round at the emptying graveyard. 'I'll call soon. When I've got my head straight.'
'Okay. Thank you.'
She went to turn away, but then stopped and turned back. 'I wish I'd gone to visit her, Jake. I should have. She was all alone in there. I only ever thought of myself.'
She turned and started to walk away before the painful pressure in her throat gave her away.
Coming here today, she'd finally realised that the slow, dark dread that she'd carried around deep within her, seemingly forever, was the result of all the guilt and self-loathing that had plagued her since her mother's first suicide attempt.
Theo had been right. She had hated herself. Or if not hated, then she hadn't liked herself very much. And she'd never been brave enough to face her mother or her past, so she'd hidden from it. She was the coward.
Urgh, she was so messed up.
'She wasn't alone,' Jake said behind her.
She froze and swivelled back to face him. 'What do you mean?'
He gestured to the woman still standing next to him. She'd been so quiet and still that Emily had forgotten she was there. 'Betty used to visit her once a month, without Dad knowing. She told me the day Mum died.'
She turned to face Betty now, her heart pounding in her throat. 'Is that true?'
The woman nodded solemnly.
'Why?' The question came out as a whisper.
'Because your father was never going to do it and I couldn't let her be totally alone.'
'Wow.' She stared at the woman and felt heat rush up her neck into her face. 'Well, that's very kind of you, Betty. It's more than I ever did.'
Betty put her hand on Emily's arm and patted it awkwardly before retracting it again. 'You mustn't blame yourself, Emily. She didn't know who or where she was a lot of the time. She was a very sick woman.'
'But I never visited her.' The raw truth made something in her chest squeeze painfully hard.
'She knew why that was,' Betty said, giving her a supportive smile. 'She'd done the most selfish, cruel thing in the world to you by trying to end her life and then having you find her in that state when you were just a child. She never forgave herself for that. But she loved you. She always loved you. During her lucid times she followed your career religiously... watched your show. She was proud of what you'd achieved with your life and she told me that repeatedly. She was sad that you didn't want to visit her, but she refused to let me come and talk to you. She said you'd been through enough without her badgering you to forgive her, and that she knew you must love her if you were still angry with her. She made me promise not to say anything.'
Betty looked sheepish now, as if she thought she'd done the wrong thing by keeping this information secret until now.
Emily gave her a grateful smile, wanting her to know she didn't blame her. It hadn't been her responsibility. As Theo had pointed out, it hadn't been any one person's fault. They'd all had a hand in it.
'Thank you for visiting her, Betty. I really appreciate you doing that. It was kind of you - especially when she wasn't really anything to do with you.'
'It was my pleasure.'
Betty nodded and turned to walk away, but Emily put her hand on her shoulder to stop her.
'I misjudged you, Betty. I'm sorry.'
Betty gave her a genuinely warm smile back. 'It's okay, Emily. I understand why.'
Walking back to the car to meet Theo, Emily ran through everything she'd just been told. She felt barely able to process all that had happened as it swirled around her mind like a dizzying zoetrope.
Her mother had loved her. And even though she'd been very sick she'd known that Emily loved her too, deep down. She felt sure that was true.
Thanks to Betty she hadn't been totally on her own for all those years, and had even gone so far as to follow her career.
The thought of it nearly blew her mind. She wondered how she would have felt during filming if she'd known her mother would be watching the show. Pretty compromised, she suspected. In some ways not knowing had allowed her to truly be herself, without fear of offending, alienating, or even worse trying to please the people she loved.
Because she did love them. All of them. Even her father. She just hadn't wanted to admit it for fear of it breaking her.
She found Theo crammed into her little car, listening to the radio with the seat raked back so he could relax into it. He readjusted the seat and flicked off the audio when she got into the car with him.
'How did it go?' he asked, one eyebrow raised in suspense.
'Good. It was good. I think it's going to be okay with Jake. I told him I need some time to process everything, then I'll be back in touch.'
Theo nodded. 'That's great, Emily. I'm really pleased to hear it.'
She flashed him a grin. 'Thanks for coming with me. It was good to have you here.'
He didn't say anything - just gave her an understanding smile.
There was a strange moment of tension when neither of them spoke and the question of what happened next hung heavily in the air between them.
'So, what are you up to for the rest of the day?' she asked, trying to sound as casual as possible whilst also steeling herself for being told he had to get back home and had lots to do.
She so desperately didn't want to lose his company now. She had so much to tell him.
Eventually.
When she got it all straight in her own head.
She was acutely aware that if it hadn't been for him she never would have spoken to Jake or found out about her mother from Betty.
Not that she had any right to drag him further into this. He'd already gone above and beyond the call of duty, coming here with her today. She needed to remind herself that he wasn't her boyfriend. He wasn't even a friend - not really - and he wasn't interested in a relationship with her. He'd made that very plain.
Many times.
'No plans,' he said, his gaze still fixed on hers. 'I'd like it if you came back to my place and had something to eat.'
His voice sounded just as casual as hers had, but she felt the sincerity of his statement and an acute sense of relief rushed through her. Even if he was only interested in sex, she'd be happy to lose herself in that with him today.
Wouldn't she?
Yes.
She could do that.
Ignoring a low pull of unease, she smiled and nodded. 'Okay, that would be great. I don't have any food at my house anyway.'
'Good.' He nodded, as if he hadn't been in any doubt that she'd agree.
'Then drive us home, chauffeur,' she said, forcing her mouth into a cheeky grin.
He snorted. 'And I'm supposed to be the entitled one,' he said, turning on the ignition and ramming the gearstick into reverse.
Emily was quiet all the way back to his house - via her house so she could pick up a fresh outfit. There was a heavy weariness about her that he'd never seen before and it bothered him. She hadn't shown much emotion throughout the funeral. The only sign that it had affected her at all was the way she'd gripped his hand harder as her mother's coffin had been lowered into the ground.
She hadn't shed a single tear in his company since she'd heard the news about her mother's death.
Clearly it still hadn't fully sunk in yet, and she was riding the denial with her usual brash aplomb.
Not that he was going to push her to talk. She'd get to it when she was ready. He felt sure of that.
Back at his house, they both took a shower and changed into more comfortable clothes before reconvening in the kitchen.
After eating a light tea provided by his housekeeper, they moved into the drawing room to read books and listen to music in the late-afternoon sunshine.
Despite his promise to himself not to get tangled up in the emotion of the situation he couldn't help but keep looking over to make sure she wasn't too exhausted, faking her strength after the excesses of the day. After the fourth time he did this, she sighed and put her book down.
'You can stop checking to see whether I'm about to burst into tears on you,' she said crossly.
He snorted. 'Okay,' he said, holding up his hands in surrender. 'Whatever you say.'
She bristled. 'I can take care of myself, you know.'
'I know that. I just don't want you to feel like you have to today.'
She frowned. 'What? You're going to adopt me now? Take me under that big protective wing of yours?'
Her voice was jokey, but he sensed an undercurrent of seriousness.
'Only if you need me to.' He didn't want to brush her off in case she was angling to talk, but he knew this was a fine line he was treading. She was independent through and through, and wouldn't respond well to any attempt to force a confrontation she didn't want to have.
'I don't need you, Theo,' she scoffed, keeping her tone light, but he could tell she was holding back. She was a tigress and there was no way she'd ever be tamed. Not that he wanted to do that. He loved her just as she was.
The realisation struck him hard, forcing the breath right out of his lungs.
He was in love with her.
She was staring at him, waiting for his pithy reply, but he had nothing. He was literally speechless.
Clearly, she thought he wasn't saying anything back because he didn't agree with her statement and she got up, her body suddenly stiff with anger, colour flooding her cheeks.
'I didn't come here looking for sympathy.'
He stood up too, frowning hard, totally unsure about how to handle the situation now. He was reeling from the insight about how he really felt about her. How he'd felt for a while now.
Her gaze bored into his and he felt more exposed than he had in a very long time. Frighteningly so. He couldn't speak. Couldn't formulate a plan. So he just stood there, frowning and being ineffectual.
'I think I should go,' she said curtly, brushing her hair away from her face with a shaking hand and walking past him towards the door.
He caught her hand as she passed and swung her back to face him, not sure what to say, but knowing he had to say something before she walked away from him for good.
'Don't, Emily. Stay.'
She tried to shake off his grip but he held her fast. 'You can't make me, Theo.'
'I know that, but I think you should.'
'Why?'
He shook his head. He wanted to have the courage to say it. To tell her how he really felt. But the words wouldn't come. They were jammed painfully in his throat.
'You don't really want me here. You just feel like you have to play the big man, to save the damsel in distress. Just like your mother said you do.'
He shook his head again, but it only seemed to enrage her more.
'Let go of me. I need to get out of here.'
Her voice sounded panicky now, and she pulled away from him again hard - but he clung on.
'No. I'm not letting you go.'
She stared at him wildly for a few seconds, her eyes filled with the hurt he'd sensed hiding inside her all day, and then her face crumpled, fat tears welling in her eyes before spilling down her cheeks in a torrent. Her brows drew together and she dropped her head, seemingly unwilling for him to witness her pain.
Releasing his grip on her hand, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly; making soothing noises into her hair.
She sobbed in his arms, her whole body shaking with the ferocity of her grief, and still he clung on, absorbing the throbs and shivers of her torment. He wanted to take her pain away, take it himself and hold onto it for her until she'd worked out how to deal with it, but he knew he couldn't do that. All he could do was be there while she accepted it and fought through it herself.
After a few minutes she seemed to get her convulsions under control and he relaxed his hold slightly, intending to lean back and look her in the eyes, to let her know with his expression that it was okay to do this - that he was here for her.
'Don't let go,' she whispered. 'Please don't let go.'
So he pulled her in tight again and they rocked gently together, her breathing growing slower as she began to get it under control.
After another minute of clinging to him she finally relaxed her hold and moved away a little. He released her and took a step back so he could look at her.
'Can I get you anything?' he asked, running his thumbs over her cheeks to brush away her tears.
She gave him a watery smile. 'Some tissues wouldn't go amiss.'
He nodded and left her standing there, with her arms wrapped around herself, while he fetched her some.
She accepted them with a grateful smile and dabbed at her face, then blew her nose, keeping her gaze averted from his. 'I must look a real mess,' she said, her voice laced with self-disgust.
'You look beautiful. You always look beautiful,' he said sincerely, stroking a hand down her arm.
Looking up at him, she gave him a teasing grin. 'You old smoothie, you.'
The switch to levity made him feel first relieved, then inexplicably sad. She was such a strong person - much stronger than him.
'What can I do to help?' he asked, praying she wouldn't say 'Let me go home'.
'Come to bed with me?' she asked, her voice a little more wary now, as if she couldn't quite believe he'd want her to stay after he'd witnessed her falling to pieces.
He smiled, relief pouring through him. 'Of course. Lead the way.'
Leaving the room hand in hand, they climbed the stairs and he guided her into his bedroom. Once in there they both lay down on the bed, facing each other but keeping a small distance between them. He wasn't sure what she needed from him, but he was prepared to wait until she was ready to tell him.
Her eyes looked tired and red from crying but she didn't break her gaze from his, clearly comfortable in the knowledge that he sincerely didn't give two hoots about what she looked like right then.
She took a deep breath. 'I'm sorry about yesterday,' she said, her brow furrowing. 'It was stupid of me to let my exec producer assume we were engaged. I was being selfish, only thinking about myself - as usual - and you got caught in the crossfire.'
He shook his head. 'Forget about it. It's not important.'
'But it is. It's what I do, Theo. I cause chaos wherever I go. It's not fair to keep mixing you up in that.'
'Let me decide whether it's fair or not, okay?' he said, quietly but firmly. The last thing he wanted was to add to her worries with something that could be dealt with another time.
She let out a small huff of laughter. 'Why are you still around? Most men I know would have run for the hills by now.'
'Well, to coin a phrase, I'm not most men. I'm me. And I want to be here with you because you're my friend and I care about you.'
She stared at him, her eyes wide with insecurity. 'You care about me?'
His heart seemed to stutter in his chest. 'Yes.'
He wanted to say more. To tell her the whole truth. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't make himself form the words.
She closed her eyes but didn't say anything. When she opened them again, they were full of pain. 'I don't know why.'
He put a hand up to her face and stroked his thumb down her cheek. 'Don't you? Really?'