My Darling Bride(96)

“They respect me and understand why this is what I need.”

“We’re fine!” Jasper calls. “I support our guy a hundred percent.”

Everyone laughs as Graham smirks. “Guess you all want to hear from Jasper now, am I right?”

More whistles reverberate from the crowd as Graham moves aside to hand over the mic.

I ease Londyn to the floor and get up to head to the bathroom.

Jane follows. “Well? That was a pretty awesome thing, right? He won’t be playing football anymore.”

I nod.

“I mean, he changed the bookstore name to Darling. He’s creating a legacy for you.”

“Yeah. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta pee.” I ease the door closed, but not before I see her disappointed face.

I tug out my phone and sit on top of the toilet and send Graham a text. Hey. Saw the news. I hope you’re happy, that you did this for you.

He doesn’t reply, which isn’t surprising, since he’s still at the press conference.

I stay there for several minutes, waiting to see if he replies. When he doesn’t, I go back out into the den, tell my family good night, and head to bed. Magic jumps up when I pull the covers down and slide inside.

Grabbing the extra pillow, I wrap my arms around it tight and somehow drift off to sleep.





Chapter 33


EMMY


A few days later, I announce I’m going to the bookstore, not to work but to hang out while Jane and Andrew do their thing. She makes me swear that I won’t do anything strenuous. I can walk up the stairs and relax in my office or sit in one of the lounging areas and read a book. It’s a relief to get out of the apartment.

Graham has called, but we haven’t spoken. I just need time to process if what Graham said is actually true.

I can’t resist helping a customer when I notice a man on the third floor. An older man, maybe in his seventies, he shifts from one foot to the next as he stares uncertainly at the books on the shelves and blows out a long breath. It’s a cry for help.

“Hi, I’m Emmy,” I say as I get up from the comfy leather lounger I was sitting in. I straighten my loose linen pants and matching peasant blouse. “I work here. Can I help you find anything?” I smirk. “It will actually make my day if I could find you a book.”

The man smiles engagingly as he speaks in a slow southern drawl. “I don’t want to bother you, but I’d appreciate it. I’m Carl.”

“It’s no bother.” I go to stand next to him, and he tells me that he’s in town to visit a friend of his, River Tate, a Python player who told him about the store. I reply that I saw River play once, at the preseason game.

Carl smiles and gives me his life story, about how he lives in Ellijay, Georgia, and knew River when he was in college. Then he describes a museum in Ellijay dedicated to UFOs. Apparently, the locals claim that part of Georgia is a hotspot for extraterrestrial activity.

“I was abducted once, you see, and I thought I could find some books about true-life stories of people who’ve experienced the same thing.”

I nod sagely, keeping my expression blank. “I have just the thing. We have an entire section and even a brand-new book of interviews from whistleblowers who once worked for the government and have come forward with stories. I flipped through it when it came in, and it was fascinating. Follow me.”

I escort him to the display we have on the second floor. He’s chatting to me about aliens with big eyes, and I nod in all the right places. He’s just wrapping up a long-winded story about how he hopes they come back and take him to their planet when the PA system goes off.

I start at Graham’s voice. “Emmy, you have a cream situation in the rotunda. Please meet me there. It’s me. I’m the cream. I’m waiting for you.”

My breath catches.

I tell Carl to excuse me and head down the staircase. Butterflies dance in my stomach when I see him standing in the rotunda next to the manual typewriter.

Jane and Andrew are at the counter, all wide eyes and smirking, while Babs has literally taken a seat at one of the tables with Brody to watch me. I start when I notice Vale at the counter, a couple of books in his hands. He smiles at me, a knowing expression on his face as he looks from me to Graham.

I lick dry lips. Graham looks gorgeous, his dark hair swept off his chiseled face, his gray gaze watching every step I take.

“Hey,” he murmurs when I reach him, his greedy eyes eating me up.

“Hey,” I reply shakily. “Um, good to see you.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“Have I given you enough space?” he says with an earnestness I can’t deny. “I know things are happening fast—your surgery, my retirement. I wanted to give you time to think. I can’t stop thinking of you, though. I want to be the one who takes care of you, Emmy. I want to protect you, from whatever comes, whether it’s an old boyfriend who won’t leave you alone or a health issue.”

“Oh,” I say, letting the words settle inside me. I bite my lower lip to keep the tears pricking my eyelids from falling. “I’ve missed you.”

His warm hand cups my cheek. “Oh, baby, I’ve missed you. I want to show you something. Look.” He points down at the manual typewriter, and I scan the various messages people have left. He picks up the three-ringed binder where we keep older messages from the beginning of the year. He flips back several pages to one dated in late June. “This is the day I came to the store after our honeymoon. I’d been gone for seventeen days, and I missed you for every one of them.” He reads the message aloud. “‘I am obsessed with you, Emmy. From the moment you stepped out on that balcony. From the moment you called me your prison boyfriend. From the moment I dreamed of you on the football field. You are mine. You are my saving grace, my reward, my happiness, my darling.’”