Page 74 of Strictly Pretend

“Yeah, that’s her name.”

Emma flinches. “I’m so sorry,” she says.

“Sorry about what?” I ask her.

“That you can’t have children.” She reaches for my hand, but I pull it away. “I can’t believe she told Will that.”

EMMA

As soon as the words escape my lips his face goes completely blank. It’s like a shutter has come down over his emotions, blocking him out from the world.

And all thoughts of being upset because he didn’t tell me his personal business disappear from my mind. Because I’m getting to know this man and he’s not great with his feelings. He’s great at hiding them, though, and I suspect he’s doing that right now.

“Brooks?”

He shakes his head, like he’s trying to get his thoughts straight. “I’m sorry. I need to get out of here.”

He turns on his heel just as I try – and fail – to grab his hand again. “It’s okay,” I tell him. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it’s not okay,” he mutters, running his hand through his hair. “Nothing about this is okay.”

As I stand and get closer to him, I can see the hurt in his eyes. I can feel it, too. Like I’m the one being hurt. “Will is an asshole,” I tell him. “He should never have said anything.”

Brooks says nothing. There’s a twitch in his jaw that looks almost painful.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur again. “But can’t we talk about this?”

“What is there to say?” he asks. “I fire blanks. I can’t have kids. But it isn’t your problem, is it?”

I guess it isn’t. And yet it feels like it is. Or at least his hurt does.

“Talk to me,” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

I wrack my brain, trying to think of the right words to make everything better. All I can actually think is that I hate Will and his meddling ways. The way he told me Brooks’ secrets with such glee.

A sudden fear overtakes me.

“You’re not going to hurt Will, are you?” I ask him.

“Does it matter?” he replies. He’s right at the door, his hand reaching for the handle.

“Yes it matters. It matters because if you hurt him, he’ll think he’s won. He’ll think he’s gotyouwhere it hurts.”

He still opens the door and walks outside, not replying as he pulls it closed behind him.

And I’m alone in the yurt again.

I sit back down on the mattress, my heart feeling heavy. He came straight here thinking I was sick. His hands had been so gentle as he checked me over, asking me if I was in pain.

I wonder what he’d have done if I said yes? Would he have called a doctor? Taken me to the hospital? I swallow, because I can’t remember the last time somebody other than my grandparents cared for me like that.

He looked so wounded as he left. In a way, I never thought he could. I’ve seen him angry, grumpy, and aroused. But never wounded. If I hadn’t seen it for myself I wouldn’t have believed it possible.

A few minutes ago, before he walked through that door, I was feeling sad that he hadn’t confided in me. Now I’m sad because he’s sad, and it’s infinitely worse. I don’t want him to feel sad.

I want to see him smile. I want to kiss him until his pupils dilate. I want to make everything okay.

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