"You are welcome here. Don't be ridiculous. I don't want to fight with you."
"Too bad, because I want to fight with you. You're irritated because I'm here, because I invaded your space, made myself at home. And that tells me I'm wasting my time, I'm wasting my feelings, because I deserve better than that."
"Look, Emma, all this just caught me at a bad time."
"It's not the time, Jack, not just the time. It's always. You don't let me in here because that's too close to a commitment for you."
"Jesus, Emma, I am committed. There's no one else. There hasn't been anyone else since I touched you."
"It's not about someone else. It's about you and me. It's about wanting me, but only on your terms, on your-your blueprint," she said waving her hands in the air. "As long as we stick to that, no problem. But that's not going to work for me anymore. It's not going to work when I can't pick up a quart of milk for you or leave a damn lipstick on your bathroom counter. Or give you some damn plants without pissing you off."
"Milk? What milk? Jesus Christ, I don't know what you're talking about."
"It's not going to work when cooking you a fucking meal is like a criminal act." She snatched up the plate of scallops, tossed it into the sink with a crash of stoneware.
"Okay, that's enough."
"No, it isn't enough." She whirled, shoved him back with both hands as tears of anger and heartbreak clouded her eyes, thickened her voice. "And I'm not going to settle for what isn't enough. I'm in love with you, and I want you to love me. I want a life with you. Marriage and babies and a future. So this? This isn't enough, not nearly. It turns out you were right, Jack. Absolutely right. Give them an inch, they'll take a mile."
"What? How? Wait."
"But don't worry, no need to run for the hills. I'm responsible for my own feelings, my own needs, my own choices. And I'm done here. I'm done with this."
"Hold it." He wondered his head didn't explode. Maybe it already had. "Wait a damn minute so I can think."
"Time's up, thinking's over. Don't touch me now," she warned when he started toward her. "Don't even think about putting a hand on me. You had your chance. I'd have given you everything I had. If you'd needed more, I'd have found it, and given you that. It's the way I love. It's the only way I know how. But I can't give where it's not wanted and valued. Where I'm not."
"Be pissed off." He snapped it out. "Break dishes. But don't stand there and tell me I don't want you, don't value you."
"Not the way I want or need. And trying not to want, Jack? Trying not to love you the only way I know how to love? It's breaking my heart." She grabbed her bag. "Stay away from me."
He slapped a hand on the screen door to stop her. "I want you to sit down. You're not the only one with things to say."
"I don't care what you want. I'm done caring. I said stay away from me."
She looked up at him then. It wasn't temper or heat in her eyes. Those he would've ignored until they'd burned this out. But he had no power against her pain.
"Emma. Please."
She only shook her head, and, pushing past him, ran to her car.
SHE DIDN'T KNOW HOW SHE MANAGED TO DAM THE TEARS. SHE only knew she couldn't see through them and she had to get home. She needed home. Her hands wanted to shake so she gripped the wheel tighter. Every breath hurt. How was that possible? How could the simple act of drawing breath burn? She heard herself moan, and pressed her lips together to hold back the next. It sounded like a wounded animal.
She wouldn't let herself feel that. Not now. Not yet.
Ignoring the cheerful ringtones of her phone, she kept her eyes focused on the road.
The dam collapsed; the tears broke through when she turned into the drive. She swiped at them, a fast, impatient hand until she'd navigated along the curve, parked.
Now the trembling came, so that she shook as she stumbled from the car, up the walk. She made it inside, safe, home, before the first sob took her.
"Emma?" Parker's voice carried down the stairs. "What are you doing back so early? I thought you were-"
Through the flood of tears, Emma saw Parker rush down the stairs. "Parker."
Then there were arms around her, strong and tight. "Oh, Emma. Oh, baby. Come on now, come with me."
"What's all this commotion? What's . . . Is she hurt?" Like Parker, Mrs. Grady hurried forward.
"Not that way. I'm going to take her upstairs. Can you call Mac?"