Illusions

Chapter Five

"Yeah, see ya," she mindlessly hollers back and shuffles out the door.

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She eases up on the gas, crawling her bug up the driveway before fighting against the damn car to shift into park. She kills the engine and scrubs her hands down her face in frustration, that nagging sensation clawing at her gut for not uncovering more vital information. She sighs heavily and kicks open her door, cringing at the loud creak that screeches into the night.

She exits the car, slams the door shut and shuffles her feet up the driveway with her fists balled into her pockets. Her head is down, sulking, but a heavy thump echoing into the night grasps her full attention. She snaps her head up to inspect her yard and of fucking course she spots Henry.

He's standing back up, wiping off his hands and knees before readjusting his backpack and glancing back up at the window he just scaled down from. She groans to herself and quickens her pace, rushing to the side of his house to find out why this little boy is sneaking off after his bedtime?

Henry clutches the straps on his backpack, ready to venture on into the night, that is until he steps directly into Emma. "Whoa kid," she says, resting her hands upon his shoulders, provoking him into jumping back from being startled. "What are you doing?" She questions as her hands jump into action.

He swallows, it's so obvious that he's ashamed or maybe infuriated with her for catching him, either way, it's a painful swallow. His grip tightens around his backpack as his eyes drift to the space between their feet. He shrugs.

She gently rests her hand upon his shoulder, but when he refuses to meet her gaze, she bends down and ducks her head until their eyes connect. "You know I have to take you home," she says with her hands only and he nods slowly, still hanging his head in disappointment. "Come on," she sighs and guides his little shoulders to his front door.

It's a short walk, filled with palpable tension and awkward silence. Henry deliberately scuffs his shoe against the grass as they walk and Emma stuffs her hands into her pockets, wishing this kid would open up to her and explain where his little head is at.

She steps in front of him and rings the doorbell, then proceeds to take a generous step back. She rocks nervously from her heels to her toes, drowning in a wave of nausea that crashes down upon her, out of nowhere. She peeks at Henry out of her peripheral, but he's still hanging his head and fidgeting uncontrollably with his backpack.

That's when the front door swings open in a haste and Emma's heart stops, her next breath catches in her throat, when a stunning woman with inky black tresses, perfectly styled just below her shoulders, is revealed. She's standing with a pristine composure that somehow, in that split second, makes Emma feel like she was just scolded by her teacher in front of the class. She swallows, her eyes drinking in the tight grey dress that hugs this woman's every curve, down to her five inch black pumps. The strange woman just oozes elegance and class, but in this brief second, Emma notices the disheveled appearance and utter shock stealing her features and despite all of that, she's still the most beautiful woman her eyes have ever had the chance to lay upon.

"Hi," Emma nervously says, offering a small wave.

"Henry," the brunette gasps, and it's so painfully hard for Emma to ignore the low, raspy husk that sends chills down her spine. "Why aren't you in your room?" She sternly interrogates, diving forward to pull him over the threshold and into her arms, but he is quick to dodge her touch. Emma flinches, because the hurt striking this woman's face is like a punch straight to her own gut. "What the hell is going on?" The woman investigates, squaring her shoulders and pretending that this little boy didn't just break her heart in front of a complete stranger.