Page 26 of Knot Our Reality

“Thank you.” Tessa’s voice is quiet. “Not everyone will be as forgiving as you are, but I thought if anyone would understand, it would be you.”

I wave off her words—not to dismiss them, but because she doesn’t need to say them. “We’ll see how things go, but I’m glad he’s here.”

My suitors are speaking quietly behind me, and I’m fairly certain I hear Ian speaking with Dylan, making me smile.

Tonight turned out to be more dramatic than I thought it would, but I can’t say I mind it.

Chapter Seven

Emilia

As I make my way to the dining room, I wonder what I’ll find.

Last night was more than a little awkward, but I did manage to hang out with them after dinner, so I’m calling it a win.

Dylan must have told Ian his story while we walked up and at the beginning of dinner, because by the time we were finished eating, the two of them were chatting like old friends. Maverick and Dalton didn’t try to talk to him all that much, but they also weren’t rude to him. As much as I’d like to hope that today will go better between them, I’m not holding my breath.

Hopefully, none of them are dead or have been sent packing. I didn’t stay up too late with them, having to call it a night well before they were ready to.

The damn pregnancy saps me of energy on the regular.

Voices waft out of the dining room, but no one sounds angry as I step inside.

I’m surprised to find all four suitors already sitting at the table, talking among themselves. That’s definitely different from how I left them last night.

I wonder if Dylan told Maverick and Dalton about everything.

“Good morning,” I chirp, glancing over to see that breakfast hasn’t been brought out just yet.

“Morning, Emilia.” Dalton grins as he jumps out of his chair and hurries over to mine, pulling it out for me.

“Why, thank you.” As I sit down, I breathe in his clove and cedarwood scent that holds just a touch of orange. It’s a complex scent that I love.

Dalton pushes the chair in before returning to his own seat. “It’s my pleasure.”

I glance at the four of them before deciding to just ask them. “The four of you seem to be getting on better than you did last night.”

Maverick winces from his spot beside me, and I lean toward him to get a whiff of his scent—leather and sandalwood. “I’m sorry for how we acted, Emilia. We already apologized to Dylan after he told us what happened. We shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, and there’s no excuse for how we acted.”

“As long as Dylan forgives you, then it’s water under the bridge.” My eyes find the man in question. “You’re likely going to have to explain this repeatedly as new suitors arrive.”

He nods. “I’m aware, and I’m prepared to do that.”

The side doors swing open, and I push to my feet as the food is brought to the buffet. “Not to be rude, but the baby is demanding food, so I’m going to fix a plate.”

I don’t wait for a response from them as I skip over and grab a plate before they’ve even finished putting the food down. Is it rude of me? Absolutely, but ask me if I care.

I’m not usually this rude, but I can get away with a lot when I’m pregnant. Which is helpful in times like this, where I feel like I’m going to be sick if I don’t eat soon.

Today’s offerings are different from yesterday’s, so I take a moment to decide exactly what I want. I decide on a cheese omelette, bacon, and some cinnamon oatmeal.

Ian grabs my bowl from me, a waft of his fennel, orange, and peppermint scent hitting me as Dylan takes my plate before leading me back to the table. I suck in a lungful of his cinnamon and coffee scent that has just a dash of caramel to it.

Damn, I miss coffee.

“I can carry my own food.” I shake my head. At least they didn’t try to make my plate for me.

“Oh, we’re well aware of that fact,” Dylan says with a grin. “But what if you tripped and spilled your entire breakfast? Then you’d have to wait even longer to eat, and we’re not taking that chance. It’s better that we make sure you’re all settled before we get our food.”

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