Page 136 of The Snowball Effect

“Oh, notthosecookies,” Gram dismissed. “The ones we baked today, here. With Phoebe and Bea.”

“We’re the ones that told Sherry here to give one to Cindy at the check-in desk!” Emma heard another voice shout in the background. “I know that woman has a giant sweet tooth, and she doesn’t shut up about her husband’s impending retirement!”

“The cookies… that you bakedtoday,” Emma stressed, as her mind tried desperately to process this information. “With Phoebe and Bea. And Regan.”

“Yes, Emma,” Gram confirmed, as if Emma was being obtuse. “And you can let Regan know that she doesn’t need to do any of your bidding or running interference again. Not that I don’t appreciate it,” she added, warmth entering her tone. “But it worked. So, you can officially stop worrying about my being lonely.”

“I can officially stop worrying,” Emma dimly echoed, but she wasn’t sure her brain and her mouth were connected, right now.

Because… what in the world wasgoing on?

“I have to go, but please pass the question on. I wouldn’t make it such a big deal, but apparently Cindy would like to talk to Regan as early as tomorrow, if possible.”

“Right, sure. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Gram returned, before hanging up the phone. So that she could return to her evening of beingsocial.

Regan had gone to visit her gram today, apparently. She’d taken the time and effort to go to Astoria to bake cookies with Emma’s grandmother, while – apparently – being the conduit for Gram to make friends with other residents.

Gram assumed this was Regan doing Emma’s bidding, but Emma knew better. She knew very well that she hadn’t asked Regan to do any such thing; Regan had already gone above and beyond doing so much for Emma regarding her family, already.

So above and beyond, in fact, Regan now hadfeelingsfor Emma. How was that for taking her job seriously?

Emma’s mind was spinning, and her emotions felt so all over the place right now, that all she could do as she unlocked the door to the apartment was desperately hope Regan either wasn’t home or was already in her own bedroom for the night.

Because she couldn’t handle seeing and talking to Regan, right now. She couldn’t handle it, because Emma couldn’t handle her own feelings. She didn’t even know what these feelings were.

Or… more aptly, they terrified her.

She cautiously walked into their apartment, shutting and locking the door behind her.

Slowly, she walked into the living room and didn’t even realize she was holding her breath… until she walked in to see that Regan wasn’t sitting there, waiting for her. That Regan wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. She wasn’t waiting for Emma to come home, pouncing on her –

Emma shook her head sharply at the imagery that word invoked.

Emma had expected that Regan would be waiting on tenterhooks for Emma to return home. Wanting to talk about Regan’s confession yesterday, maybe. Or maybe wanting to move past it, and excitedly telling Emma to get ready to dive into a new season ofThe One. Or wanting to tell Emma all about her day – about how she’d apparently spent part of that day with her gram.

Yet… nothing.

Regan wasn’t waiting for her, with that boundless energy and addictive smile.

Which was the best-case scenario, Emma forcefully reminded herself. This waspreciselywhat she’d hoped for – some space from Regan so she could figure out how to deal with everything. How to deal with this major change in her reality.

Unfortunately, that reminder didn’t do anything to combat the disappointment she felt.

She had been stressing all day about how she would come home to Regan this evening and have no idea how to handle it. No idea how to handle Regan wearing her tiny little shorts and have her dark hair all tousled and tossed in a ponytail to get it out of her way while she cooked. No idea how to handle the excitement that Regan never tried to disguise as soon as Emma entered the room.

And now that she didn’t have those things, she was upset about it.

“Jesus christ,” Emma swore at herself, because she was so utterly fucked. Her carefully ordered life was starting to crumble around her, and she had no idea how to pause it.

With a deep breath, she walked down the hall toward her room. A night without Regan being home was great, she tried to convince herself. She could take a long, relaxing bath. She could finish reading the book she’d started on Friday… when she’d been waiting for Regan to come home…

But, wherewasRegan? It wasn’t like she’d texted Emma to let her know she was going to be out late, so –

“Oh mygod.”

Emma froze with her hand on the doorknob to her bedroom, as she heard those muffled words come from Regan’s room.

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