Chapter 3

I stared at Dr. Jameson and sighed. “I don’t want to talk about that.” I avoided eye contact.

She wrote down some notes. “And why is that, George? Why don’t you want to talk about how you feel about your dealing with Emma and the divorce?”

“It’s painful.” I told her honestly. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Yes, sure. Talk to me about whatever you want.” She reassured me with a smile.

“I love Emma. I want her to have faith in me once again. How can I do that?”

“Stay close to her. She needs the emotional support right now. She’s going through a crisis, everything she believed in seem to crumble around her. You need to show her that you’re there for her, George.” She looked at the watch on her wrist. “And our time is up. I’ll see you next week with Emma.”

The first time I realized that I was in love with Emma I was dating someone else. I was at university, far away from home, and I was going out with Melanie, this amazing good looking blonde girl who adored me: my dream girl.

I remember coming back to London for Christmas, anxious to see my family and my dearest Emma.

Years previously

I was anticipating the time when I would be back home and I could spend some quality time with everyone. I missed them, and I missed Emma, my little ray of sunshine. She was just 15 when I left and every time I came back I could see her flourishing into an amazing young woman.

I needed to talk to her. In the last few months, I felt like something was going wrong between us. She was colder, more guarded. Of course, when I raised the issue she would just tell me that I was imagining things but I knew my Emma and she definitely was hiding something.

As soon as I got off the cab, I ran to the door and knocked.

And then my father, Sebastian, opened the door and grinned at me. “Welcome home, son.” He pulled me in one of his manly hugs. Yes, I was finally home.

I had to wait 4 whole days before I could meet Emma. She was gone skiing in France. After protests from her parents’ part, I convinced them that I wanted to be the one to pick her up at the airport.

And there was I, waiting patiently for my amazing best friend to come out and hug me and never let me go.

Last time I’d seen her was in the September. I really missed her.

As soon as I saw her I waved frantically. At first I wasn’t successful into catching her attention but then she saw me. Surprise registered on her face, followed by an enormous grin. She ran up to me and jumped. I picked her up easily and hugged her close to me. I covered her face with kisses. To an outsider we might have looked like a couple in love.

“I missed you so much, my Emma.” I smiled at her as I looked her in the eyes.

She shyly put her head in the crook of my neck. I could feel her smile slightly. She then raised her eyes and spoke softly. “I missed you too, George.”

“I want to hear about everything you did when we were apart.” I put her back on her feet and took her hand in mine and squeezed. “You don’t know how seeing you has made me happy, Em. My little sunshine.” I pushed her bang away from her eyes and smiled happily.

My heart was beating so fast and it had never beaten so fast for her before. “You’re beautiful, by the way.”

“Thank you, George.” She said. The smile on her face vanished. A veiled sadness and a bit of resentment in her eyes.

I looked at her in surprise but decided to comment on it later. “Let’s go home.”

Things after the meeting had been strained between Emma and me. She avoided me and that hurt me. I didn’t understand what her problem with me was, and I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her about it because she didn’t give me the chance to even be alone with her.

I was frustrated, confused, angry and hurt. Why couldn’t she give me the time of the day? I thought I was her best friend.

One day I turned up at her house to affront her. She was home alone and I took the chance to corner her.

“You owe me an explanation, Emma.” I said coldly.

“No, I don’t.” She replied with equal glacialty.

“Yes, you do!” I yelled exasperated. “Tell me what’s your problem. You don’t want to be my friend anymore?” I whispered the last few words, afraid that that was the case.

“You’re leaving me, George. You’ve abandoned me here in London to go to bloody Scotland and now that you have a girlfriend who knows if you’ll ever come back to me.”

I walked up to her and cupped her face. “Nothing will ever come between us, Emma. I won’t let that happen. My girlfriend is not my best friend. You are.” I caressed her cheek and kissed her forehead. She hugged me and cried. I didn’t understand why.

I just felt my heart swell, happy that now it was all sorted.

We looked at each other in the eyes and I felt the urge to kiss her. I leaned in as she looked at me innocently and I couldn’t stop myself. My lips touched hers for a fraction of a second, not even a taste I’d savoured from her lips. Did it even happen?

She stared at me in surprise and touched her lips.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. You’re like my little sister.” Lies. All lies. Of course she wasn’t like a sister for me. I could feel the bitter taste in my mouth left by the lie I was feeding her with.

“Oh.” She said stoically. “Okay.”

“I got to go.” I said. I wanted more. I wanted a proper kiss.

I looked at her cautiously for a few seconds, taking in all her amazing curves and I felt the familiar stirring in my loins. I really needed to go.

As I closed the front door of her house behind me, I knew that I was in deep shit. I had just kissed my best friend and I wanted more, so much more. The coup de grace had been looking at her body. She was hot as hell even in a simple pair of jeans and a sweater. And I freaking wanted her to be mine, forever. I was to be the only one to touch her, kiss her and make love to her. I wanted her heart as she had mine. I wouldn’t let any other man take her away from me.

And it dawned on me. I was in love with her.

I sighed, smiling. I was going to work hard to get her to love me. The first step was to break up with my girlfriend Melanie.

We were all watching tv. Emilienne was on my lap, whereas Darcy’s head was on Emma’s. She would caress his hair softly and smile as a documentary on BBC 3 was on.

“How was your day, George?” Emma whispered. Knowing well enough  that our children were almost asleep.

“It was good.” I stood up, Emilienne in my arms. “I’m going to put her in bed.” She nodded.

She nudged Darcy. “Honey, you’re exhausted. You need to go to bed, Darcy.”

He nodded half asleep and followed me up the stairs.

A few minutes later I descended the stairs, and looked at Emma.

“Done?” she asked.

I nodded and sat down next to her.  She smiled slightly at me. I made rest her head on my lap and smiled as she closed her eyes. We talked about our day, about everything and nothing.

“You make me laugh, George.” She giggled.

“Good.” I chuckled in response. I kissed her forehead lovingly. “I love you.” I told her, wary of her answer.

She didn’t reply. Her eyes closed as she tried to relax.

“I love you, Emma.” I repeated, trying to get her to believe me. “I don’t expect you to say it back. I just wanted you to know that I do love you and I’m here for you. I know I haven’t been the best of friends in a long time, but I realise my mistake and I’ll do whatever it takes to gain your trust again.”

She sat up and looked at me emotionless. And she hugged me.

At first I didn’t respond as I was taken aback. But I soon hugged her back and breathed in her amazing scent.

I felt like we were moving forward. I hoped that we were moving forward.