The Perfect Emma

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Grayson Todd

It was an inevitability that Emma would leave Gray's apartment; whether she went home to Arthur or her family was irrelevant. And while in the back of his mind Gray had expected it, the last week had felt like no time at all. He didn't doubt her therapist's opinion—after all, he wasn't one himself, and he should probably see one considering the places his mind tends to go—and he didn't doubt that Emma had made progress, but he was still iffy about taking her to see Arthur again. Mostly because of the way her husband had acted last time. And every other time they'd met, to be perfectly honest.

But, Emma wanted to go now.

And seeing as Gray had already started spoiling her with the candy, it would be uncharacteristic of him to stop now.

After telling her to wait, he started up the path towards the front door. However, it wasn't very far away from it that he noticed something through the adjacent window that he...probably shouldn't have.

Grayson tilted his head, watching for a moment what was happening inside. Arthur was there, as expected, but he was with Emma's fellow elementary school teacher, Lily. And they were, uh. Kissing. Quite aggressively by the looks of it.

And Gray had thought he was betrayed.

Glancing back at Emma, who wasn't really paying attention, just letting her eyes wander, Gray grimaced slightly. Ah. He supposed that was where the unfamiliar car was from. Oh boy. Well, this just wouldn't do. It was in Grayson's professional interests to leave this be and tell Emma that they should come back another day, but as a person he couldn't just walk away from this.

So he continued right up to the door and knocked on that bitch.

It took a minute or so, but eventually Arthur answered the door, looking surprised momentarily, before mildly annoyed. "Detective," the man greeted, furrowing his brows. "Can I help you?"

Behind him, Lily was peering around curiously, her face flushed and hair a tad messy. Okay. This....Just wow.

Gray frowned slightly. "Well, Mr. Mabel," he started, scratching at his stubble absently. "I would tell you that Emma decided she wanted to see you today, but it looks to me you're all set."

Arthur glanced at Lily, then made a face. "Is that so?"

"It is," the detective replied. "And I'm not going to pretend to know what goes on in your head—...either of them—but I can tell you what goes on in Emma's, and I don't think she'd appreciate you doing what I just saw you doing with her friend."

Anger crossed the other man's face. "Oh really? Yeah, I bet you know Emma so well, seeing as she chose you over me. And y'know what? She was gone. I thought she was dead, and Lily? She helped me through that. We helped each other through that—"

"That's well and good, Mr. Mabel, and I'm glad you found a way to cope with your grief, but Emma—who, may I remind you, is your wife—is very alive, and as her husband you should've been willing to drop everything—"

"Okay, how dare you judge me? Do you even know what it's like to think your wife is dead?"

Gray barked a laugh. "No actually, I can say that I know exactly how it feels to be certain that your wife is dead, to have seen her body, and to have grieved over it—to still be grieving over it, and I can tell you that I definitely wasn't ready to move on after fifteen months."

Arthur was silenced. In fact, he almost looked humbled, casting his gaze anywhere but Gray's face. "I...."

"Save it. You're an adult. You do what you want. But Emma doesn't deserve this," Gray spat, pointing between Arthur and Lily, who looked incredibly guilty. "She was hurt and she needed time to heal, but apparently you took that as a pass to pretend you weren't married to her anymore, and to throw her to the wolves. If you asked me, you shouldn't be. But...." He threw his hands up. "That's just me. And you've already told me plenty of times before my opinion doesn't matter. So, I'll be going. And I'll be taking Emma with me. When you decide what the fuck you want, then maybe I'll consider bringing her back." Turning around, he added curtly, "Goodnight, Mr. Mabel," and returned to the car.

Emma looked up as he approached, raising her brows and then furrowing them as Gray didn't open the door for her, but for himself. "....What did he say?" she asked tentatively.

Grayson smiled at her, concealing his anger. "I don't think today's a good day," he replied, making an apologetic expression.

She looked out the window for a second, watching Arthur shut the door, and then returned to looking at Gray. "But...why? What...."

"I....I think it's best that we leave Arthur be." After that conversation, he was disinclined to call the man her husband. "At least for now. You might be ready, but...." Gray took a calming breath. "He definitely isn't."

It was clear from Emma's subtle change in expression that she certainly noticed his behavior. Thus far he'd avoided the question, and he would continue to do so, and he was trying and to some degree failing to conceal that he wasn't happy with something. "Is...everything okay?" she asked softly as Gray started to drive.

If Gray were honest he would tell her that it had taken a great deal of strength not to punch Arthur in the face, but he wasn't going to. That would be unwise to say to her, because she would ask why, and he didn't want to answer that. "Yeah," he replied with false easiness. "Everything's....Everything's fine. Don't worry about it."

If he knew Emma, she was worried about it.

But some secrets were best kept secret. He would tell her, just...later. When he was less pissed off about it.

Seven years. Seven years after Grayson had seen proof of his wife's death, and not once had he ever considered getting into a relationship with someone else. Most would probably call that clinging to the past, but even when Rosie was missing, and technically still alive, Gray would've died himself before cheating on her while she was gone. That Arthur had both done so, and continued to do so even after Emma was back, definitely bothered Gray. If his wife had come back alive after being missing for a year and three months, he would wait as long as he needed and do whatever it took to have her back.

Apparently Arthur felt differently.

And apparently Emma was still worried, as she remained silent, regarding Gray out of the corner of her eye. He knew she would persist, at least when they got back to the apartment, but he wasn't sure if he should tell her.

On the one hand, she deserved to know the truth. It would be irresponsible of him to keep it from her for long, to let her think that Arthur was still waiting for her when he very clearly wasn't. His excuses told Gray that well enough.

But on the other, Gray wasn't sure how she would react. Thus far, ever since the first time he'd tried taking her home, she'd been very...distant towards Arthur. Hell, it had taken her this long to even consider seeing him, and she hadn't exactly sounded very anxious to do so even today. But Grayson didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, especially if he was wrong about how she felt.

Of course, being a detective, in the Homicide Unit no less, it was his job to be the bearer of bad news.

Shit.

Getting back home, Gray was sure the IA agent that had no doubt followed them was pretty annoyed by how short that trip was. But hey, fuck 'em. He was too annoyed at the moment to care. After resettling for the night and sitting on the couch again, Emma finally decided to act upon her obvious worries. "Hey, Gray?" she murmured.

"Hmm?"

"What....What happened? Really?"

He sighed, leaning back a little and closing his eyes. He didn't want to tell her. But, he didn't want to tell people that their loved ones had been murdered either. He supposed telling someone their husband cheated on them while they were kidnapped was a little easier than that, wasn't it. Gray rubbed at his face, as if doing so would make the decision for him. In the end, he decided it was best she knew the truth. "I'm sorry, Emma," he murmured. "But...I don't think Arthur is all that broken up that you've been away, at least since you got back."

Emma furrowed her brows. "What do you mean?"

Gray was almost wishing he was telling her someone was dead instead. "When I went up to the house....Arthur was...with someone else." He decided maybe not to say exactly who. Better to only ruin one relationship tonight. "Er. Pretty intimately."

"Oh...." Emma looked down at her lap, and Gray would've loved to have known what she was thinking in that moment.