My Cheating Mate (Emma and Jeremy) novel Chapter 71

Chapter 71

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“Okay,” I agreed.

We worked together in silence, tucking in sheets, arranging pillows. The domesticity of it was both comforting and painful. A reminder of what we’d had, what we’d lost, what we might be slowly rebuilding.

“There,” Jeremy said when we finished. “Looks good. Feels weird sleeping in a properly made bed.”

“Get used to it. I’m going to keep checking on you, and if find out you’ve been sleeping on your office couch again, there will be

consequences.”

“Yes ma’am.” A slight smile. “What kind of consequences?”

“The kind where I tell Dr. Chen, and she extends our therapy sessions by an hour each.”

“That is genuinely terrifying.”

I laughed despite everything. “Good. Now come on. Let’s get that casserole in the oven. And Jeremy? You’re going to eat an actual portion, not pick at it.”

“You’re very bossy today.”

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“Someone has to be.”

In the kitchen, I busied myself with the casserole while Jeremy put away the groceries I’d brought. It felt normal, domestic, like we were just a couple preparing dinner together.

Except we weren’t a couple. Not anymore. Not yet. Maybe not ever again.

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“Emma?” Jeremy’s voice was quiet. “Thank you. For today. For caring. For-” He gestured at the clean house. “For all of this.” “You’re welcome.” I slid the casserole into the oven. “And Jeremy? Those memories I was having. The good ones from before. I want you to know–I do treasure them. Even knowing what I know now. Because at the time, they were real to me. And that

matters.”

His eyes were bright with unshed tears. “They were real to me too. Maybe not at first, but they became real. You became real. More real than any fantasy I’d built up about Vanessa.”

“When?” I asked. “When did I become real to you?”

He thought for a moment. “There was this day, maybe three months into our mating. You’d made dinner and we were just sitting on the couch, your head on my shoulder, watching some terrible reality show you loved. And you laughed at something ridiculous on the screen, and I-“He paused. “I looked at you and realized I was happy. Really, genuinely happy. Not thinking about Vanessa, not wishing I was somewhere else. Just happy to be there with you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was an idiot. Because I thought admitting that would mean admitting I’d been wrong about everything. Wrong about Vanessa, wrong about the mate bond, wrong about trying to force something that wasn’t meant to be.” He shook his head. “Sol buried it. Kept seeing Vanessa. Kept lying to myself and you.”

“And now?”

“Now I’d give anything to go back to that moment. To tell you how I felt. To choose you fully instead of splitting myself between a fantasy and reality.” He moved closer. “But I can’t go back. Can only move forward. Try to become someone worthy of another chance.”

The timer for the casserole beeped, breaking the moment.

“Thirty minutes,” I said, needing to ground myself in practicality. “I should probably go. Let you eat in peace.”

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“Stay” The word came out urgent. “Please? We can just eat dinner. Talk. Nothing more than that. I just–I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

I should say no. Should maintain boundaries, keep that careful distance we’d been building.

But looking at him–exhausted, hopeful, vulnerable–I couldn’t.

“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll stay for dinner.”

The relief on his face was almost painful to see.

“Thank you. Again. For everything.”

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