Her smile sags, but she doesn’t fight me. I stop at the tree line, watching as she trudges through the tree roots until she meets up with the group and disappears inside the SUV.
As I follow her footsteps, the short guy from this afternoon closes the trunk of one of the vehicles. “Now I get it. You’re banging her.”
My eyes zero in on this douchebag and I approach him with measured steps. I grab him by the collar. “Listen, whatever you think you know, you don’t. And if I hear a whiff of a rumor about her, I’ll come back and make sure you never utter a lie again. Got it?”
Like before, he shrinks before my eyes. “Whatever, dude. No idea what she sees in a dick like you.”
All of my bluster disintegrates with the wind. He’s right. I push his body away from mine and stalk to the SUV, hopping into the passenger’s side. The ride back is uneventful. I offer one-word responses to the driver and pretend to listen to the radio, which obliterates the conversation from the backseat between Emilie and the photographer. It doesn’t stop the scent of lavender from attacking my senses, though.
She’s a beautiful, sweet, caring woman who brings light into the world.
And I’m the monster who chases it away.