Liam’s POV
“Emily, I’m not eating here. I’m going back to my room.”
She looked up at me, her expression stiffening.
“You’re going to leave me eating alone?”
“I need to rest.”
And more than that, I needed to leave before this situation became even more tangled.
Emily leaned forward slightly, her chin resting on the back of her hand, as if I were today’s favorite show. The waiter returned with cream soup and toasted bread, then left quickly.
For some reason, everything about Emily tonight felt staged. But I kept my expression flat. After a long day, I didn’t have the energy to dissect someone’s intentions.
“I don’t want you to leave me,” she said, stirring her soup without really wanting to eat it. “Too many eyes are on me.” “What do you mean?” I asked shortly.
Emily stared at me for a long moment, her eyes moving as if searching for something on my face. “You forgot, didn’t you? People know me too well. And I’m scared of that.”
“I know you’re used to it.”
In truth, I just wanted to leave. My body felt like it was rejecting staying in this room any longer. There was something about Emily tonight that made me want to keep my distance, the way she spoke, the way she breathed, the way she looked at me as if she knew something I didn’t.
“Eat,” I said finally. “You said you were hungry.”
Emily smiled faintly, but it wasn’t a warm smile. More like the smile of someone who felt they were winning a game only they understood. She spooned the soup slowly, her eyes never truly leaving my face.
“You’re not eating?” she asked.
“I already ate.”
Emily began tapping her spoon against the bowl, the rhythm slow but irritating. “Strange. Usually when I eat, you eat too. Now you’re just sitting there. Are you uncomfortable with me?”
The question hung in the air. I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the tension tighten.
“I’m just tired,” I said again.
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