Chapter 12 - Dinner and What Followed
The dinner took place on a Thursday evening. Emma arrived by the less visible car. Isabella was already at the table. Vincent joined them a few minutes later.
The meal was simple by the standards of the house—roast chicken, vegetables, bread that tasted homemade. The conversation moved easily between books, the weather, a recent article Isabella had read about lake conservation, and Lily’s progress toward graduation.
No one mentioned Victoria.
After dessert, Isabella excused herself early, claiming fatigue. The attendant helped her from the room. Emma and Vincent were left alone at the table with the remains of the meal and the quiet of the house.
“She planned that,” Vincent said.
Emma almost smiled. “I thought so.”
He poured more water into both glasses. “I have been careful not to assume anything about these visits. They began because of my mother. They continue because of her. But I find that I look forward to the days you are here for reasons that are not only about her.”
Emma’s throat felt tight. “I do too.”
Vincent nodded once, as if confirming something he had already known. “There is a significant difference in our circumstances. I will not pretend otherwise. I also will not pretend that difference is the only thing that matters.”
Emma looked at the tablecloth. “I’m not looking for a rescue. Or a role.”
“I know. That is part of why this is possible.”
They sat in silence for a while. It was not uncomfortable. When Emma finally stood to leave, Vincent walked her to the door again.
At the threshold he said, “If at any point this becomes more complicated than you want, say so. I will respect it.”
“I will.”
He did not kiss her. He did not touch her hand. He simply held the door and watched her walk to the car.
May you like
In the back seat Emma pressed her palms against her knees and tried to steady her breathing. Something had shifted. Not into a fairy tale. Into a possibility she had not allowed herself to name until now.
