Page 70 of Blurred Lines

Emily's expression falters, the carefully constructed composure beginning to crack. It's the perfect setup, and I know the question I need to ask next. It hangs heavy between us, waiting to ignite the tension already simmering under the surface.

I probe further, "Is this about what happened that night at the vineyard?"

She nods, her eyes meeting mine. "Yes, I panicked. But I'm here to confront everything now, not run away. Someone sent me a Polaroid with a threat attached to it."

She hands me a picture. I look at it, breath contracted in anger at the message. "Damn this to hell," I mutter. "Emily, I'm really sorry. I should have gotten to the bottom of this then and there."

The mood shifts. We're beginning to understand how this could have overwhelmed her, although I do still wish she'd have talked to us first.

"It's not your fault," she replies softly, resting her beautiful eyes on me. "I didn't give you a chance to fix anything."

Silas, ever protective, cuts in, "We'll figure out who's behind this, Emily. You're not alone in this."

It feels like we're moving towards reconciliation. Finn fills a flute with bubbly and hands it to her. "Join us."

"I should probably avoid alcohol," Emily murmurs, almost to herself, before stroking her belly.

Everything just stops.

I can't hear anything except the thundering of Silas and Finn's hearts beside me. And I can't see anything except the shock in Emily's face, and how she blushes as she realizes she's revealed far, far more than she ever intended to.

"Guys," she says, voice trembling. "I didn't?—"

It's too late. "Were you planning on telling us?" Silas asks, the question loaded with implications.

Caught off guard, Emily stumbles for words. "I … I hadn't figured out how to yet."

Disbelief and hurt flash across Finn's face. "So, you came back for our help with the family heirloom? Is that it?"

Emily looks wounded. "No, that's not it. I didn't come back to use anyone."

"No?" Silas's voice is sharp, cutting through the air. "Because it seems like you had no intention of letting us know you're pregnant."

"I was scared!" Emily's defense is a mix of frustration and desperation. "I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want to burden anyone with my problems."

"A burden?" I find myself speaking up, frustration heavy in my voice. "Emily, we're supposed to be in this together. How can we help if you don't trust us?"

Her apology sounds hollow in the face of our frustration. "I'm sorry, I just … I thought I could handle it on my own."

Silas steps forward, his tone softer but still laced with disappointment. "It's not about handling it on your own, Emily. It's about trust. And right now, it feels like we don't have that with you."

The argument circles as we grapple with feelings of betrayal, disappointment, and concern. Emily's return, once a hopeful reunion, now feels overshadowed by secrets and mistrust.

Finn finally breaks the cycle, his voice heavy. "We need to figure out where we go from here. Because right now, it feels like we're more lost than ever."

I've had enough. "Emily, you need to leave."

"What?" Her eyes grow bigger. She looks at me pleadingly. "Caeleb, I never meant?—"

"It doesn't matter what you did or did not mean," I say thickly. "It matters that you still don't trust us, and maybe never will. I'm not okay with that. I can't speak for my friends, but I cannot take any more of this bullshit."

With that, I turn and leave. I don't pause to look back at Emily and busy myself with other guests. My jaws begin to ache with the effort of smiling when Finn and Silas join me. "She's gone," Silas says.

"I'm sorry," I reply, voice flat.

"Don't be."

The question of giving Emily another chance lingers, a specter at the feast, its answer as elusive as the whisper of the wind through the jasmine. Some distances might be too great to bridge, some wounds too deep to heal with mere words.

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