“Emma, let me explain?—“
“Is it true?” I step closer, keeping my voice low even as anger burns through me. “Are you a Hammond? Is your father Victor Hammond?”
“Yes,” he says quietly. “But?—“
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
“I was going to tell you tonight. After the gala. I had it all planned?—“
“Planned.” I laugh softly, the sound bitter. “You had it planned. Like everything else. Like this whole relationship.”
“That's not fair.”
“Fair?” I hiss the word. “You want to talk about fair? I told you everything. About James, about my parents, about every broken piece of me. And you couldn't even tell me your real name?”
“Emma, please.” His voice cracks. “Let's go somewhere private. Let me explain.”
“Explain what? That you've been lying to me for months? That everything I thought I knew about you was a performance?”
“It wasn't a performance.” He reaches for me, stops himself. “What I feel for you is real. Everything between us is real.”
“How would I know?” Tears burn at the corners of my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. Not here. “How would I know what's real when you've been hiding who you are this whole time?”
He flinches like I've struck him.
“The woman you are,” he says slowly, “the woman I fell in love with—she would let me explain before making up her mind.”
“The woman I am is a damn fool. I trusted you.” My voice breaks despite my best efforts. “And you let me walk into this blind.”
Silence stretches between us. Logan shifts uncomfortably. Ethan stares at the floor.
“I'm leaving,” I say.
“Emma, please?—“
“Don't.”
I turn and walk toward the exit, forcing myself to keep a steady pace. I don’t run or make a scene. Just a woman leaving a party, nothing to see here.
The night air hits me as I push through the doors. Cool and sharp against my flushed skin. I wrap my arms around myself, shivering.
“Emma, wait.”
Kai catches up to me on the steps. Shrugs off his jacket, holds it out to me.
“You're cold. Take this.”
I stare at the jacket. His jacket.
“No,” I say.
His hand falters. “Emma?—“
“I said no.” I step back. “I don't want your jacket. I don't want your explanations. I don't want any of it right now.”
“Please.” His voice is raw. “Don't do this. Don't shut me out.”
“You shut me out first.” The words land like blows. “You had months to tell me the truth. Months. And you chose to keep me in the dark.”
