“Please, why don’t you join us for dinner?” Nicolas offered when he was set free, making Emily shoot up shouting, “No!”
Everyone looked at her in surprise.
“I mean…” She retracted. “I’m sure they would like some alone time together.”
Nicolas tilted his head, his brows drawn together and his eyes fixed on her with a puzzled intensity that made her shift on her feet. She couldn’t blame him. He was being nice to her parents, but she was shooing them away like they were a nuisance.
He had an idea about their broken relationship, yet he had still given the invitation. What was he trying to do here?
“Actually,” her mother butted in, “we would love to join you.” Then she raised one hand, signaling for a staff member to come over. Emily stood there, completely helpless as her mother did the most Juliet-like thing, she ordered for their seats to be joined.
Nicolas sat back down. His dark eyes followed Emily’s robotic form as she took a seat.
Time passed by in an awkward blur as they picked at their food, making light talk of the weather and politics.
Just as Emily was about to “accidentally” drop her fork and retrieve it to tell Nicolas not to say anything about their marriage, her mother was the first to break the third silence among them. “How do you and Emily know each other…” She trailed off to catch his name.
“Nicolas, but you can call me Nick.”
Emily’s eyes found him at the nickname. It didn’t quite suit him, but maybe she was biased.
“Okay, Nicolas. How do you know my daughter?”
“Mother,” Emily warned but Nicolas answered anyway.
“Darling, haven’t you told them yet?”
“Nic—” she started, her eyes widening in fright.
Please don’t let this be what I think it is.
Nicolas’s posture straightened as he looked her parents in the eyes. “I’ve been wanting to formally meet you both, but my schedule just hasn’t allowed it. I know that’s a poor excuse, but with the nature of my job, it stands true. It doesn’t help that Em here…” He took a hold of Emily’s shaky hand as he gazed down at her in what could be mistaken as lovingly. “Has also been refusing to let our relationship go public.”
“Relationship?”
He wouldn’t dare to. He wouldn’t dare to. He wouldn’tdar?—
“Yes. I’m Nicolas Re, Emily’s husband. It’s a pleasure to finally meet both of you.”
“You’re married?!” her parents shouted in unison.
She dug her palm into her face.
Yes. Yes, he dared to.
30
Emily glowered at Nicolas like he’d be her future victim.
He couldn’t help it. There was no way he’d meet her parents and not introduce himself. Truthfully. What difference would it make between now and a few months?
If anything, they would have given him shit for keeping it from them. He couldn’t afford that, he wanted to leave a good impression on them. After all, they were the people who birthed Emily. The strong, capricious, and borderline murderous woman who was his wife.
She looked one second away from gouging his eyes out with a spoon. And yet, somehow, she still looked beautiful.
So beautiful.
She’d given all the hints to not tell them they were married.
