“We both know that’s bullshit. And unfortunately for you, my tolerance for bullshit is low on weekends.”
The silence between us stretches, and Carmen folds her arms and waits.
She’s not going anywhere. And against my every better instinct, my mouth betrays me.
I can’t help myself. “How’s Emma?”
The second the words are out, I regret them.
Carmen’s dark brows lift slowly, like she’s examining a fascinating specimen that just moved unexpectedly.
“Well,” she says, smiling softly, “that answers one question.”
I grit my teeth. “The question is simple, Rodriguez. Either you can answer it or not.”
“And I’m trying to decide how honest to be,” she exhales, dark eyes lowering. “Emma’s… Emma. Stubborn. Smart. Overachieving. The kind of person who would apologize to a knife for cutting herself.”
I close my eyes for half a second.
Christ.
“She’s been quieter than usual,” Carmen continues. “Working late. Coming in early. Pretending she’s fine when she looks like she’s two breaths away from crumbling.”
My chest tightens painfully.
“And she’s nauseous. A lot. More than she admits.”
I swallow hard. “Has she been eating?”
“A little.” Carmen hesitates, voice softening. “She keeps pretzels in her desk drawer now. Salt helps.”
Of course she is. She’s trying to power through. As always.
My voice is rough when I speak. “She shouldn’t be at the office when she’s feelinglike that.”
“Try telling her that.”
“I would… if she’d let me within ten feet of her.”
Carmen watches me quietly. And I hate that it makes me feel flayed open.
“You know,” she says finally, “for someone who projects control better than any executive I’ve ever met, you’re surprisingly helpless when it comes to Emma.”
My jaw flexes. “Thank you for that wonderful observation, Carm. And for the record, I’ve never been helpless a day in my life.”
“Oh, no. You are extremely helpless.” A ghost of a grin graces her lips. “It’s actually endearing. If it weren’t also slowly killing both of you.”
I glare, and she doesn’t blink.
“What exactly did Emma tell you?” I ask.
“That she has…regrets. That’s all she’ll say. Which is a lie she only tells herself because she’s terrified.”
Terrified.
The word hits me harder than guilt ever could.
Carmen leans forward, lowering her voice. “Donovan… she’s in love with you.”
