Page 76 of The Snowball Effect

Emma was able to take a real, deep breath again as alarm bells – ones that had nothing to do with Kimberly or her sisters – rang in the back of her mind.

“But it’s not the same thing as keeping up this kind of yard.”

“I think keeping your plants thriving when you live in an apartment in the city is even more impressive,” Kimberly readily disagreed.

“I think you said that dinner was supposed to be ready in ten minutes, fifteen minutes ago,” Eva cut in, obviously bored by the conversation about greenery.

Kimberly’s eyes widened. “You’re right, honey!” She clapped her hands together. “Let’s head in. I’ll give you a tour before we settle at the table.”

Emma let out her first easy breath since they’d arrived once her mom’s back was turned to them.

“Anything you need me to change? I can be adaptable,” Regan whispered, dark eyes staring into her own.

Looking down at Regan, Emma took comfort in the sincere look she wore, and she was already shaking her head before she realized it. “No. Please, keep doing what you’re doing.”

She was certain she was going to need it.

Yes. Weird was the most fitting word.

Getting a tour of the three-thousand square foot home her mom now lived in with her husband and two children was weird. Weird being told that there was a guest room upstairs that Kimberly would justlovefor Emma and Regan to stay in sometime.

It was weird to be on the receiving end of so many dirty looks and snarky remarks from Eva.

It was weird to be seated across from Everly, who bounced in her chair and looked at Emma like she was a celebrity.

She supposed the only thing that wasn’t weird was Ted. As his mostly silent presence was the same as she’d remembered since meeting him as a teenager.

And it was the weirdest thing was that the biggest comfort she had was having Regan by her side.

Never in a million fucking years would she have thought that Regan Gallagher would be her savior, especially not when it came to Kimberly, but… she was living in proof of it.

Regan kept up conversation with Kimberly, asking about the food she’d cooked, about what it was like living in Miami. She talked about dance trends and a popular children’s show – something Emma had never even heard of – with Everly. She’d easily and brightly responded to every remark that Eva made.

Even as Eva had stared at them from across the table as they’d sat down and remarked, “You’restillholding hands? It’s been, like, forever.” Her gaze had fallen defiantly to Emma. “What’s that about?”

Emma had felt simultaneously like she wanted to laugh at the idea of a twelve-year-old trying to shame her and embarrassed at the fact that shewasholding Regan’s hand like a lifeline.

Rather than let go, though, as they pulled out their chairs with their free hands, Regan had made a point to flex her fingers around Emma’s. The touch was firm and grounding, and Emma found herself holding tighter.

She’d never been a big hand-holder, not even when she’d been with Felicity, but the constant reminder that she wasn’t alone tonight felt… it felt remarkably, insanelygood.

“I just love to hold her hand,” Regan had commented back, humming contentedly as she stroked her thumb over Emma’s hand.

Emma felt herself shiver at it, the touch feeling like some sort of casual intimacy that sheshouldn’thave with Regan. But, at this moment, she did. And it was the least uncomfortable occurrence happening to her.

“Sometimes, holding someone’s hand can feel so nice. Like second nature. It might be something you enjoy with your future partner,” Regan had said, her voice so warm.

And it hadn’t mattered to Emma that Regan’s words were technically a lie. They’d felt true enough in the moment.

Regan even drewTedout of his shell as she asked him about his job as a senior accountant at the firm he worked at. “I don’t know much about numbers, but Idoknow that I once had to take a basic accounting class as part of the managerial program at the café, and it taught me that no matter where I end up in life – it won’t be in finance.”

Emma smiled at Regan’s dramatic expression as she moved the food around her plate.

“You said you’re a barista, right?” Kimberly leaned in with interest from where she sat at the head of the table. “Where, exactly, is that?”

“Topped Off. It’s right near the NYU campus where most of Emma’s classes were,” Regan answered, tossing her a large, deliberately cheesy smile. “It’s how we met.”

“Ohhh, a meet cute?” The excitement in Kimberly’s voice was palpable.

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