Just Like Her

Chapter 103

Tom

I unceremoniously dropped my rugby cleats by the door and peeled off my sweat-soaked shirt. It had been over a month since I'd played and my body felt it. I meant to dive straight into the shower, but I froze a the sight of Emma working at the kitchen table.

She was typing on her laptop and—for a brief moment—I had a hope she was writing again.

It'd been nearly a month since she'd come home, and while things still weren't exactly "normal" they were better. Emma got out of bed with me in the mornings and ate regular meals. She'd even started going to grief counseling twice a week and started calling her mum regularly again.

It was all good—definitively better than it had been by any measure—but I still couldn't shake the feeling that it was Emma simply going through the motions of life rather than living it.

My chest deflated slightly as I noticed it wasn't her notebook sitting on the table beside her but a stack of financial documents.

She glanced up at me and smiled. It was a good attempt, but it didn't reach her eyes. 

"I was about to call the solicitor," she said as way of greeting. "To check that I don't have to make any special adjustments because our contract.

"I know its expiration doesn't matter to us," she added somewhat cheekily. "But it might to the government."

The solicitor.

The contract.

"Tax filings were due two weeks ago," I mumbled as the implications of her words slowly sunk in. 

A wave of panic flooded my system. I'd only just gotten her back—Not even fully yet. 

Emma nodded at her computer. "Yeah, I... I'm still having a hard time keeping track of dates and... time. There's a penalty, but I can still file. But I think I need to do it soon or the penalty will just get worse, so I-I was going to call the solicitor to ask—"

"No."

Emma blinked several times and then glanced up at me. Her eyes scanned me up and down, apparently taking in my tensed muscles because she lifted her fingers from the keyboard and leaned back into her chair. "Tom?"

"You can't—" I closed my eyes and tried to focus the dizzying whir of thoughts pummeling my brain. "I need to tell you something."

"Tom?" I heard her ask again, this time barely above a whisper. "You're scaring me."

My chest rattled as I released the breath I'd been holding. I nodded once, opened my eyes, and then forced myself to walk over to her.

She was still sitting in her chair, one knee raised to her chest, her eyes wide and on me.

I kneeled in front of her, trying to find the right words to explain to her to make her understand what I'd done and why I'd done it.

"It's about the contract," I said finally.

Emma merely waited for me to go on.

I cleared my throat and looked down. "Well, you and I—we said six months, but the contract itself never specified..."

A sharp intake of breath caused my eyes flick back to search hers.

"Y-You mean the contract—It's..."

"Indefinite," I nodded solemnly. "Yeah."

Her brow furrowed as her eyes shifted between mine as if studying my face could somehow make the situation make more sense.