Page 104 of The Love Rematch
All Emily wants to do is fall into her mother’s familiar embrace and let it all out, but she can’t. Not with the cameras rolling. And even without them, her mother wouldn’t understand.
“I—” She cuts off. “I—”
“Sweetheart, whatever it is, you can tell me,” her mother murmurs, love woven through the words. “I know I sort of started this whole thing, but you don’t have to finish it if you don’t want to. I’m sorry I pushed so hard. Maybe it wasn’t my place. I was just worried about you. I thought a little adventure was what you needed, but if I was wrong, tell me. I know you think I’m wedding-crazed, and, well, I probably am, but that’s not what this was about for me. I don’t care if you come home engaged. I don’t want you to if it’s not the right man. I never cared if you found a husband. I wanted you to find yourself. You’ve seemed so lost these past few years, ever since—” She stops, swallows, flicks her gaze to the camera, and then clutches Emily’s fingers tighter. “I wanted you to see yourself how your father and I see you—perfect just the way you are.”
It’s everything Emily needs to hear.
And everything she can’t bear to.
Because she thought she had found the perfect man. She thought he’d finally come back to her, finally chosen her. For a fleeting moment in the dark she’d felt as if maybe—just maybe—she was enough.
More than enough.
Everything.
Between the cameras, her parents, and the crew, too many eyes are on her—too many, and yet not enough. All she wants to see is one set of deep blue ones.
He’ll be here, she thinks, distantly aware of her mom pressing a palm to her forehead and claiming, “She’s burning up.”
He’ll be here.
A cold towel pats her cheeks. Manicured fingers thread through her hair, gently massaging her scalp. She sinks into her mother’s arms.
He’ll be here, she repeats like a lifeline.He’ll be here.
A knock eventually sounds.
The world returns to sharp focus.
Emily lunges out of her mother’s embrace and sprints past Nina for the door. Cooper is there with a tropical bouquet, his broad chest taking up the entire frame. She throws herself into his arms to get a view over his shoulder. Trish stands behind him with a headset—Trish, a cameraman, and that’s it.
No Jake.
Because he’s gone.
He’s really gone.
“Down, girl,” Cooper jokes.
Emily drops to the floor with athud. The second he sees her face, his grin fades. He steps closer. Before he can ask, she bends at the waist and vomits all over his shoes.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
jake
A dark sliverof green breaks up an infinite blue horizon. Land. The airport.
“Finally,”Jake mutters and grabs his phone from his pocket. He stares at the upper right corner of the screen.
Come on.
Come on.
Two bars appear. Then three.
Bingo!
He pulls up Sam’s flight information. It lands in thirty-seven minutes. Between disembarking and security, it’ll be close. He can’t leave it to chance. So he tries to find her number in his contacts, then remembers in a moment of perfect epiphany that he blocked it a few weeks ago after she’d sent him those texts.
