The Perfect Emma

Chapter Sixty-Six

Grayson Todd

It had been years, seven in fact, since Gray had last had an emotional breakdown of this magnitude. Last time had been about Rosie too. He had investigated countless murders, been the one to tell dozens of families their loved ones were killed, and watch them sob on each other without feeling this horrible.

It sucked.

Gray merely kept his eyes closed—at least, he tried. Emma was a little rusty driving again after so long. If he closed his eyes for too long he honestly got nervous and had to open them again. Purely just to have an extra pair of eyes on the road...just in case.

But, he would be lying if he said he didn't expect today's trial session to go that way. Well, he did expect the shitshow. He didn't expect to end up the center of it.

The closer they got to home, the more comfortable Grayson felt letting Emma have the benefit of the doubt, and so he leaned his head back once more and rested his eyes. Christ, he was tired. It wasn't even that late in the day, but he was mentally drained. Emotionally drained. He didn't realize how much time had passed, until Emma touched his hand. "Hey," she said softly. "We're not dead."

Gray glanced at her, realizing that they'd stopped in the parking lot. Oh. He managed a half snort half sigh at her comment. "Good job, Em. You didn't kill us," he offered.

She smiled. "C'mon. You look like you could use a couch."

"And a nap."

Emma giggled as they got out of the car, taking a moment to stare at his keys looking for the lock button, before finding it and putting her arm around him. The pair of them weren't in a great hurry as they made their way back into the apartment. But when they did get in, and shut the door, it was like a small weight had already been lifted. Just by being home.

And even though this apartment was still fairly new, it felt more like home than the last did. Gray had a feeling Emma had a hand in that. Actually, he had a certainty.

After taking off their shoes, and in Gray's case his jacket, Emma helped loosen his tie and took that off for him, before ushering him off towards the couch. "Shoo."

"Alright, alright. So bossy."

She laughed, despite her glare.

Grayson sat himself down on the couch with a sigh, leaning an elbow on the arm of it and resting his temple against his knuckles. He shut his eyes again, seriously considering a nap, and so was oblivious to Emma's approach until she'd thrown the fluffy blue blanket over him. He blinked at her in momentary confusion, before smiling warmly.

That he could even still smile after today was a miracle.

Emma smiled back, sitting on the couch as well and snuggling up to him. Gray adjusted himself to better accommodate her, wrapping his arms, as well as the blanket, around her too.

"Are you okay?" she murmured.

He let out a deep sigh. "Not...really."

His heart had already been made of glass. Already shattered once, and half-assedly put back together. He'd swept up the pieces again well enough, but...he would need some help putting them back together a second time.

Thankfully, Emma was here.

She raised a hand up to his face, rolling a thumb over his cheekbone softly. There was sadness in her eyes, but Gray knew it was secondhand sadness. She was sad because he was sad. "I'm sorry."

Gray snorted. "Why are you sorry?"

Emma glanced down slightly. "I'm sorry you had to hear that."

He gave her a squeeze and rested his forehead against hers. "I am too." He wondered if Emma was as affected by Aaron's words as he was; obviously she was, to some extent. But...Emma had almost shared Rosie's fate.

It was such a strange thing. At the start of all this, the very start, Gray had lost someone because of Aaron's actions. And now he had gained someone, someone who'd gone through the exact same horrible experience; but lived to tell about it. He couldn't help but be curious if the things Emma had been through, Rosie had too. After all, a lot could change in seven years—even a modus operandi.

Of course, far be it from Grayson to ask.

"Are you hungry?" Emma murmured after a bit of silence, merely caressing his cheek.

Gray shook his head a small bit. "Food sounds like vomit fuel right now."

"Ew," she responded with a mildly disgusted chuckle. He chuckled too. They were silent for a few more moments, until Emma sat back just a little, to stare at his face with a tilted head.

He blinked in slight confusion. "What—"

"Shh." Emma bit her lip slightly, seemingly in thought. Gray remained quiet, watching her do so. Then, slowly, she brought herself forward again, and yet another unexpected thing happened that day. Emma, though a little hesitant, pressed her lips against Gray's.

Grayson, though caught a little off guard, was in no position to complain. He kissed her back, though softly, reciprocating without taking away her control. After a few heartbeats, she let go of him.

Then she grinned. "I'm okay!"

He laughed, bringing a hand up to run through her hair gently. "Y'know," he murmured. "You may not have been the perfect Emily. But you are definitely the perfect Emma."