The Eccedentesiast

Chapter Thirty-nine

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Chapter Thirty-nine
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Emma treaded into the apartment, trying to show just how happy she was. "Guys." She closed the apartment door behind her, leaning on it with a big, goofy smile displayed on his face.

Her smile soon diminished when she saw the empty apartment. She furrowed her eyebrows, puzzled.

"Where-"

"Hey there."

Emma jumped almost a foot high when Emiliano closed the fridge. She gripped the middle of her t-shirt and closed her eyes to take a breath.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she queried.

Emiliano chuckled when he saw her plant her face on the breakfast counter. "I just got out of work. What's up?"

He casually walked over to the living area and sat down on the couch against the windows. He looked inquisitive.

Emma shook her forehead against the counter before she stood up to her full height and sat down on a stool. "Whatever, you're better than nothing, I guess," she mumbled with a sigh following after.

Emiliano rose a stupefied eyebrow and scoffed lightly, turning his head to the side with a shake of his head.

"So, as I was saying," she began, "I have great news." Emma turned and turned on the stool as she pushed herself to the edge of the counter. "I've got a new job."

He scratched his bearded chin. "Really? And why would you need a new job in the first place?"

Emma was irritably suspired. "It's something I don't want to get into with you." She stopped turning and faced the fridge, letting him stare at her back.

He stood from the couch, ambled towards her, and stood across from her. His hands came to rest on top of the fake, marble counter. He leaned forward, attempting to figure her out.

"You're all out of money. Aren't you?" he guessed right.

Emma shook her head. "I don't know what gave you that idea, but you're wrong." She kept her eyes looking down.

"Hmm." He nodded to himself, staring at the top of her head. "You need money?" he asked. "I can give you money. Let me help."

Emma sighed again, this time she let the look of vexation show. "We don't want your help, Emiliano." She faced him. "This happens right? We have our ups and downs, we're just figuring this whole, 'being an adult' thing out."

He was the one to look down now, her eyes had burned through his. He saw how strong she was, he admired how she stood up for herself and her friends—teenagers.

"Fine." He pushed himself away from the countertop. "But I'm always there for you-"

Emma gave him that look, the look his mom gave him when she silently told him to just shut up.

"Okay." He brought his hands up in utter surrender. "I'll get off your back."

Emma watched him slowly back up into the fridge. Then a question came to mind.

"So what are you doing here again?" She looked at him with a questioning gaze. "You have a mansion all to yourself. Isn't silence all you ever wanted?" Her amber eyes bore into his brown ones, brown like dark chocolate.

Emiliano let his hands fall to his sides. He broke their eye contact and looked outside the windows in the living room. "Yeah," he answered. "I guess I did."

She heard how low his voice got, how as he spoke it sounded like his throat closed up. "I'm sorry," she said. "You don't like being alone," she didn't ask, but she said it as a statement—a scanty fact.