My Cheating Mate (Emma and Jeremy) novel Chapter 72

Chapter 72

My Cheating Mate

Jeremy pov

The casserole was incredible. Real, home–cooked food instead of the protein bars and takeout that had become my diet. But more than the food, it was having Emma across the table from me, talking, laughing, just existing in the same space without the weight of therapy or guilt or carefully maintained distance.

“I can’t believe you still watch that show,” I said, gesturing with my fork at her phone where she’d been showing me clips of some reality dating program. “It’s so obviously scripted.”

“That’s what makes it fun!” She was laughing, her eyes bright in a way I hadn’t seen in months. “The drama is ridiculous. That’s the point,”

“The point is to rot your brain.”

“Says the man who spent three hours last month watching wolves rate roadkill on that nature documentary.”

“That was educational,” I protested. “Completely different.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” She took another bite of casserole. “Face it, we both have terrible taste in entertainment.”

“At least we’re consistent.”

It felt normal. Easy. Like we’d gone back in time to before everything fell apart–just two people sharing a meal, teasing each other, enjoying simple companionship.

I’d forgotten how much I missed this. Not the grand gestures or dramatic moments, but this. The everyday intimacy of shared meals and stupid conversations.

“You’re staring,” Emma said, but her tone was gentle.

“Sorry. Just “I paused, trying to find words. “I missed this. Missed you. Missed feeling like we’re just–us.”

Her expression softened. “I missed it too. More than I wanted to admit.”

We cleaned up together after dinner, moving around the kitchen in comfortable synchronization. Emma washed, I dried. Like we’d done a hundred times before.

“Movie?” I asked as we finished. “I mean, if you want to stay. No pressure.”

nodded.

I could see the war in her eyes–the desire to stay versus the need to maintain boundaries. Finally, she nodded.

“One movie. Something mindless.”

We settled on the couch, a careful two feet between us. I put on some action movie neither of us had to think too hard about. Just explosions and car chases and a plot so thin it was practically transparent.

Halfway through, Emma yawned. “Sorry. Long day.”

“You can go home if you’re tired. I don’t want to keep you-‘

“I’m fine.” Another yawn. “Just comfortable.”

Twenty minutes later, her head was drooping. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she fought to stay awake, her eyelids getting heavier with each blink

“Emma, just sleep if you need to. It’s okay.”

“M’not sleeping,” she mumbled, even as her eyes closed. “Just resting my eyes.”

+15 Bonus

Five minutes after that, she was out. Her head had gradually tilted until it rested against my shoulder, her breathing deep and

even.

I barely dared to move. Emma was asleep on my shoulder. Actually asleep, trusting me enough to let her guard down completely.

The movie continued playing, but I wasn’t watching anymore. Just sat there, hyper–aware of her warmth against my side, the soft sound of her breathing, the weight of her head on my shoulder.

This. This was what I’d thrown away. Not just the physical closeness, but the trust. The comfort. The simple peace of being together without walls or fear.

My own eyes grew heavy. The combination of actually sleeping properly the night before, a full meal, and Emma’s presence–it was more relaxing than anything I’d felt in months.

Just for a minute, I told myself. I’d just close my eyes for a minute.

“Jeremy.”

My father’s voice pulled me from sleep. I opened my eyes to find him standing over the couch, his expression grave. The TV was still playing some late–night infomercial now.

“Dad?” I was disoriented, trying to figure out what time it was. “What—”

Then I became aware of Emma, still asleep against my shoulder. We’d both passed out on the couch.

“Don’t wake her yet,” my father said quietly. “We need to talk first.”

Something in his tone made my blood run cold. “What happened?”

“Black River. They’ve moved. Our scouts spotted them three miles from our eastern border.” He kept his voice low, conscious of Emma sleeping. “They’re not just watching anymore. They’re positioning for an attack.”

I carefully extracted myself from Emma, trying not to wake her. She stirred slightly but settled back into the couch cushions,

still sleeping.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify