She wasn’t alone.
She hasn’t been alone.
She doesn’t need me.
Bash doesn’t need me.
Theo has Bash’s college fund—or hisexplore life with reckless abandon when you graduate high school fund, as Theo called it—already fully funded. Grey hinted at regular communication with his own lawyers, which I took as confirmation that they won’t let Emma fight Razzle Dazzle lawyers on her own if I turn into a dick.
The triplets asked when they could start building Bash his own playset.
Zen made sure Emma didn’t run out of drinks.
And I noticed they gave her the lemon kombucha too.
Score.
But it’ll take a lot more than guessing her favorite drink flavors to get past her walls.
“I’m permanently off relationships with men,” she says stiffly.
“Your friends don’t hide things from you anymore.”
She goes even stiffer. “Irrelevant.”
Veryrelevant.
They’d tell her if I was doing something shitty. Or even something normal for me that could puthernormal in jeopardy.
So I go slow.
I can go slow.
I nod to the house. “Will he be up in the middle of the night too?”
“Probably. I’m mildly surprised he hasn’t puked again yet.”
“You need anything?”
She shakes her head.
I don’t know if it’s anI have everything I needhead shake, or athere are other people I can call if I need thingshead shake.
“Thank you for letting me come over and check on you.”
She nods.
And then she makes a noise that I heard Bash make a split second before I got that very distinct welcome to fatherhood this afternoon.
“Emma?”
She doesn’t answer.
She’s too busy running for the back door, hand clapped over her mouth.
22
Emma
