Page 95
“No, you are not! You’re making exactly the right amount of fuss. However you choose to handle it, that’s the right amount.”
Georgia wiped the shining streaks off her cheeks. “Are you going to leave him?”
Why did the mere mention of leaving Garrett suck all the air out of the room?
“I don’t know,” she said, feeling short of breath. “I guess it depends on whathe has to say.”
Hell, they were married. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t just pack her bags and leave. They would have to divorce.
Not that Garrett would agree to that. He would fight her every step of the way. She knew that with a certainty she didn’t feel for anything else.
“Unless he gives up when I don’t get my memory back,” she muttered, her stomach swirling unpleasantly.
Could she live with him and watch him lose whatever hopes he was harboring? Because he would.
Emma disappointed everyone eventually.
“He’s spoken to your doctors. He’s known from the start that it’s not likely you’ll ever recover your memories.” Georgia squeezed her hand. “And I can’t believe I’m defending him right now, but he’s trying to build something with you. Something new.”
Emma pulled the coat tighter around herself with her free hand, unaccountably tired. “He still should have told me about us.”
“Oh, I agree.” Georgia shook her head in disgust. “I can’t believe he didn’t. You know—before last night.”
“But?” She knew there was one.
Georgia gestured up in the general direction of the penthouse.
“I see how he looks at you when you’re not watching. I was there the night he married you. Garrett had the suave playboy bit down to perfection. I never thought I would see him willingly put on that leg shackle. But that night he was… eager. And like stupid-level happy.”
She clicked her tongue. “I didn’t know what joy looked like on Garrett until you came back into his life. And granted, I haven’t known you that long, but the last few weeks you seemed happy too.”
Emma groaned. “Are you suggesting I forgive him?”
“No.” Georgia was adamant. “I think you should go back and kick his ass for keeping secrets. But maybe after that, you should let him explain. Because there is a lot you don’t know.”
She scooted closer and wrapped a thin, strong arm around her. “I get why you didn’t want to get entangled with someone from your past. Your reasons for that are one hundred percent valid. But not knowing is hurting you more.”
George was right, of course.
Emma laid her head on the shorter woman’s shoulder. “Can we just sit here for a little? Five minutes. No more.”
She couldn’t in good conscience take a second longer. Georgia had gotten married yesterday. She needed to be with her husband instead of consoling an amnesiac mess.
“Are you sure?” George asked. “We can go to brunch instead. That’s what we were doing—coming to invite you over.”
Okay, Georgia might actually be a saint.
“That is so sweet, but you got marriedyesterday.” Andnotunder false pretenses.
“Go on your honeymoon,” she ordered. “I’ll be fine.”
Georgia narrowed her eyes, studying her. “All right. You seem better so I’ll take you back up. But if you need anything, I’ll be right next door.”
She got up and wiped her hands on her shorts. “Just make sure if you kill Garrett, do it before Friday. The body won’t fit in the Shelby’s trunk, but I’ve got a rare T-Top Caddie in the shop with a big ass that will do the job nicely.”
Emma laughed, wiping the traces of tears off her cheeks. “You’ve got a deal.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Georgia wiped the shining streaks off her cheeks. “Are you going to leave him?”
Why did the mere mention of leaving Garrett suck all the air out of the room?
“I don’t know,” she said, feeling short of breath. “I guess it depends on whathe has to say.”
Hell, they were married. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t just pack her bags and leave. They would have to divorce.
Not that Garrett would agree to that. He would fight her every step of the way. She knew that with a certainty she didn’t feel for anything else.
“Unless he gives up when I don’t get my memory back,” she muttered, her stomach swirling unpleasantly.
Could she live with him and watch him lose whatever hopes he was harboring? Because he would.
Emma disappointed everyone eventually.
“He’s spoken to your doctors. He’s known from the start that it’s not likely you’ll ever recover your memories.” Georgia squeezed her hand. “And I can’t believe I’m defending him right now, but he’s trying to build something with you. Something new.”
Emma pulled the coat tighter around herself with her free hand, unaccountably tired. “He still should have told me about us.”
“Oh, I agree.” Georgia shook her head in disgust. “I can’t believe he didn’t. You know—before last night.”
“But?” She knew there was one.
Georgia gestured up in the general direction of the penthouse.
“I see how he looks at you when you’re not watching. I was there the night he married you. Garrett had the suave playboy bit down to perfection. I never thought I would see him willingly put on that leg shackle. But that night he was… eager. And like stupid-level happy.”
She clicked her tongue. “I didn’t know what joy looked like on Garrett until you came back into his life. And granted, I haven’t known you that long, but the last few weeks you seemed happy too.”
Emma groaned. “Are you suggesting I forgive him?”
“No.” Georgia was adamant. “I think you should go back and kick his ass for keeping secrets. But maybe after that, you should let him explain. Because there is a lot you don’t know.”
She scooted closer and wrapped a thin, strong arm around her. “I get why you didn’t want to get entangled with someone from your past. Your reasons for that are one hundred percent valid. But not knowing is hurting you more.”
George was right, of course.
Emma laid her head on the shorter woman’s shoulder. “Can we just sit here for a little? Five minutes. No more.”
She couldn’t in good conscience take a second longer. Georgia had gotten married yesterday. She needed to be with her husband instead of consoling an amnesiac mess.
“Are you sure?” George asked. “We can go to brunch instead. That’s what we were doing—coming to invite you over.”
Okay, Georgia might actually be a saint.
“That is so sweet, but you got marriedyesterday.” Andnotunder false pretenses.
“Go on your honeymoon,” she ordered. “I’ll be fine.”
Georgia narrowed her eyes, studying her. “All right. You seem better so I’ll take you back up. But if you need anything, I’ll be right next door.”
She got up and wiped her hands on her shorts. “Just make sure if you kill Garrett, do it before Friday. The body won’t fit in the Shelby’s trunk, but I’ve got a rare T-Top Caddie in the shop with a big ass that will do the job nicely.”
Emma laughed, wiping the traces of tears off her cheeks. “You’ve got a deal.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
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