“If we let things unfold naturally, Quinton,” Damon says, jaw tight, “we’ll rip each others’ throats out all over again. We both know that’s not what Emery wants.” He nods toward the living room. “After you.”
Swallowing my protests, I lead Damon into the living room.
"Emery," I say, drawing her attention from the book, "we need to talk.” I clear my throat slightly. “About us."
Her gaze flits between Damon and me, curiosity and wariness dancing across her face. She closes the book, setting it aside, and straightens up on the couch.
"Is something wrong?" she asks, her voice soft and tentative.
I exchange a glance with Damon. "No, darling," I reply, taking a seat next to her. "But there are things we need to discuss. Terms, boundaries..."
Damon joins us, his expression serious. "We need to establish some ground rules, Emery. For all our sakes."
Her brows furrow slightly, tensing up. "Ground rules? What do you mean?"
Damon and I share a silent understanding. It's now or never. "Emery, we care about you deeply," I begin, choosing my words carefully. "And this arrangement between us, it needs to be clear. We can't afford any…misunderstandings."
She looks at each of us, her gaze lingering on Damon, who takes a deep breath. "It's about trust," he adds. "Trust and communication. To avoid certain…conflicts, we need to make sure that we're all on the same page."
I place a hand on Emery's thigh. "We want you to be comfortable, but we also need to be realistic about what's happening here."
Emery nods apprehensively. "Okay..."
Damon clears his throat. "First and foremost, Emery, you need to tell us when you've reached your limit," he says, eyes darkening. "In the bedroom, remember your safe word and the hand actions. Repeat our word to me."
Emery swallows, her cheeks flushing as she subtly glances at me. I give her a reassuring smile. She has no need to be embarrassed. She enjoys Damon’s style. And I enjoy watching it.
"Comet," she says in a delicate whisper.
"Good," Damon nods, and then it's my turn to speak.
"When we've returned to New York, we'll implement a schedule,” I say. “We've all got busy lives but our relationship trumps all. To ensure that all of our needs are met, it's important not to deviate from the schedule, pending unforeseen circumstances, that is."
Emery frowns, her confusion evident. "Aschedule?"
Damon's gaze flicks up at me and I nod. "Mondays and Tuesdays, you'll spend with me, and Wednesdays and Thursdays are with Quinton. Friday and Saturday are your choice, andSunday…" He hesitates, jaw tightening, "Sundays we're together, all of us."
Emery blinks. "So, I'm basically a child of divorce?" Her brows scrunch together. "I see."
I lift a brow, studying her reaction. "Is that not okay with you?"
She shrugs, trying to mask her true feelings. "No, it's fine."
Damon closes his eyes, exhaling a sigh. "No, Emery. You need to tell us exactly what's on your mind. Remember what we said—communication is key."
It’s interesting to watch the many sides of Emery take their spot in the limelight. One second, she’s a goddamn vixen, bringing us to our knees. The next, she’s timid and shy. It’s fascinating, her complexity. I wonder which side of her is the dominant one. I’ve seen both. And I can’t say I have a favorite. She deserves to keep them all. It’s what makes her so fucking special.
Emery fiddles with the hem of her sweater, her tone meek as she confesses. "I... I thought that maybe we'd be togethermostdays."
Damon's features harden, and I know that he hates the idea. He's always enjoyed his personal space, his autonomy, and keeping parts of Alison to himself. But he has to remember that it's Emery who sits before us. And nothing is the same. It can’t be.
I reach for her hand, lacing my fingers through hers. "Emery, we're not asking you to settle for less, but we must find a balance that works for all of us, equally. We all have our own lives and our own commitments. This way, you get the best of both worlds. Time with each of us individually and moments where we're all together."
She looks up at me, searching my face for understanding. "I just thought...you know, after everything…we'd be together."
Damon stiffens, hesitating for a moment before he takes Emery’s other hand, cocooning it with his. “We loveyou, Emery. Not each other,” he says, and she winces. Damon tilts his head, picking up on her flaring unease. I knew this was a bad idea. “Please don’t make that face, Emery. It’s not a bad thing, it’s not hurting either of us, but we need structure. And we need boundaries. It doesn't mean we care any less. If anything, it's to ensure that this relationship doesn't crumble."
She nods, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I understand. It's just...new, you know?"
