Chapter 63

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Tom

I stormed into the apartment, letting my temper get the better of me and slamming the door shut with more force than was rightly needed. I half expected Emma jump or call out at the noise, but she didn't.

She didn't even flinch.

She sat at the kitchen table, completely unmoving except for her fingers flying about the keyboard. The journal I had given her lay open on the table before her, its pages splayed open and filled with smudged ink scribblings. 

My anger dissipated at the sight of her, and I stood mutely with my keys still clutched in my hands as I watched her. It was like watching a master composer. 

Eventually, her concentration broke and her eyes flitted up. She startled so forcefully when she finally noticed me that she practically screamed as her hand flew over her chest. 

"Christ!"

I stared a moment longer before shaking off my stupor. "Shite, sorry!"

"How long have you been there?" She practically gasped, still clutching at her heaving sternum. 

"I-I'm not quite sure," I responded honestly as I deposited my messenger bag onto a nearby stool. "Few minutes?"

Emma raised her brows. "And you were just standing there, watching me?"

My eyes drifted to the open notebook and then back to her. "You were writing."

She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it shaking her head dismissively. "Just the story I've been telling Alice."

I raised my eyebrows. "You visited her again?"

"The café was in the same neighborhood as the hospital, so I decided to pop by after tea with Margret and ask after Alice," Emma explained.

"How is she?"

Emma merely shrugged. "Well, I suppose. She's not much interested in talking about her cancer. Far more interested in discussing the fantastical exploits of the Extraordinary Alice," she teased.

A sad smile tugged on my lips. "Can't say I blame her."

"Me either," Emma mumbled as she gave me a careful once over. "You want to talk about whatever it is that's bothering you?"

I sighed heavily as I leaned back against the counter. "It's just been a rather long day..."

Emma frowned as she unfolded her legs and rose to walk toward me. "What happened?"

I couldn't help but smile as her hand slid into mine and gave a tight squeeze, the sensation of her touch firing off a chain reaction throughout my body. My smile faded, though, as the events of the afternoon shoved their way to the forefront of my mind.

"We were invited to a dinner hosted by the prime minister."

"The whole family? That's a bit odd, but I don't get why—"

"Not the family," I corrected her. "Just us."

Emma's eyes bulged in sudden understanding. "You and me?"

I nodded, allowing her time to process the information.

"By name? Tom and Emma, cordially invited to—"

"More or less."

"But..." Emma furrowed her brow in concentration. "Is that allowed?"

Slowly, I shook my head.

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