Just Like Her

Chapter 24

Tom

Typically, when I saw Emma after another one of those damn interviews she was quiet and reserved, as if on her way over her mind had wandered somewhere far off.

We almost always met up at my flat, neither one of us wanting to chance being photographed together and to have our intimate moments be plastered across the pages of magazines or shared online.

It wasn't that I was embarrassed to be seen with her—far from it actually. In truth, a part of me wanted to run through the streets proclaiming my love for her for the entire world to hear. I wanted everyone and their uncle to know I was hers and she was mine.

But another part of me, a part I pretended in vein did not really exist, railed against the very idea of sharing her. I believed Emma when she told me there was no one else in her life, and yet... I had absolutely no desire to share any part of her. The very thought of hundreds—maybe thousands—of strangers staring at her pictures, ogling her, commenting or even worse editing her image to fit their perverse desires—it was enough to set my blood boiling.

She was her own person, who had gifted a part of herself to me, and there was no way in hell I was surrendering that gift to anyone else in any way, shape, or form. The way her eyes looked up at me, the many different smiles that illuminated her face, the subtle lacing of her fingers with mine... each set my soul on fire. I knew from the moment I first heard her lyrical laughter that I would forever be chasing that beautiful sound... and from the moment I first laid eyes on Emma's picture in the paper, I knew I would be protecting it, too.

There was no laughter on her lips or in her eyes when Emma stalked into the apartment that evening. Her steps were quick and purposeful, swiftly moving her past me in the doorway and over to the counter where she slapped something down on top of it.

I recognized the sheen and bright use of colors immediately, and my stomach plummeted as I dragged myself over to her and glanced down at the curling cover of the magazine. I startled when I saw myself grinning back and belatedly realized that I was the unwitting cover model.

"You bought this?" I asked as I picked up the magazine, glancing incredulously at her.

"You said nothing would change," she murmured, her eyes glued to a spot on the granite counter.

I dropped the magazine immediately and placed a hand on each shoulder, gently yet firmly turning them toward me. "Emma, this isn't real. You have to know this trash isn't—"

"I know," she sighed, finally lifting her eyes to mine. "I know you aren't cheating on me with whoever she is—"

"A project coordinator, just for the record," I cut in somewhat bitterly.

"But this," Emma said as she picked up the magazine, shaking it in the space between us. "Is real. It was at the newsstand, and I had to see it—what if it's at my mum's supermarket?"

"Then we'll explain it to her," I said evenly.

"Tom—"

"Look, what happened with that guy drew attention and there are more headlines than usual, but just for now! It will all die down, I promise!"

I had been making the same promise since the morning the headlines broke, and each time I said it, I prayed it would be true.

"Till when?" She cried. "Till the next douche grabs me at a bar? Or when we have our first public disagreement?"

"Emma—"

"This is different, Tom." Her voice broke as tears overwhelmed the damn she had painstakingly built these past weeks.

"Yes, but we're not."

"You keep saying that!" She cried, again, this time attempting to take a step back.

Unable to stand another moment of the distance that had been silently yet steadily growing between us since that damn night in the bar, I pulled her closer. "Because it's true!"

"For you, maybe!"

"Yes, for me, it's true! For you—" I choked on my next words and had to clear my throat before I could speak again. When I did, my voice was low yet surprisingly calm. "That's for you to figure out, Ems."

She fell onto the stool beside me, tears streaming freely down her cheeks, and whispered: "I don't want to keep having the same fight."

I hesitated. Emma hardly ever let me see her cry, in fact, she hardly ever told me when something was bothering her. In our short time together, I'd learned to read her signs to know when she needed comfort or when she needed to be left alone. It was usually the latter, and while I wished more than anything that she would confide in me, I respected the boundaries she had put up. Eventually, I got used to the quiet, even accepted it to an extent, but this... this was new territory and I wasn't sure how to proceed without causing her to shut down completely.

Slowly, I lifted my hands to her jaw and gently used my thumbs to wipe away her tears. "Then you have to stop resenting me."

She immediately straightened in her chair. "You're projecting! I don't—" she sighed, her whole body deflating with her breath. "I don't resent you. I just don't know how to do... whatever this is."

I dropped my hands to take hers in mine, cradling them. "Then let me in. Let me help!"

Her bottom lip quivered. "How?"

"Telling me things that are bothering you would be a good start," I suggested with a slight smirk.

Emma nearly snorted. "Why would you want to hear about that?"

I blinked at her in shock. "So I can help you?"

She shook her head dismissively. "You can't always fix everything, Tom, and I know you've got your own things to deal with."

I leaned forward as I gently squeezed her hands. "But I can always support you, always show up for you."

Emma only stared down at our entwined fingers, so I continued.

"Look, I don't want to just be your boyfriend. I want to be your friend, too, and your partner through the good and the bad."

She nodded, still looking down, but eventually squeezed my fingers. "That sounds nice."

I watched as Emma closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. "Tom, there's something I should—"

My phone trilled from my pocket. I quickly pulled it out and groaned when I read the caller ID. "It's Cynthia. What the hell could've possibly gone wrong now?"

Emma squeezed my hand again in support and leaned back as I took the call. 

A/N: What do you think of Emma and Tom's fight? Do they fight fair or dirty?

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