The Forbidden Throb (Emma and Daniel) novel Chapter 130

Chapter 130

Emma’s POV:

Daniel’s hand came to rest gently on the top of my head.

He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was soft.

“In international medical circles, Emma, language choice is itself a statement.” His fingers moved through my hair with absent tenderness. “Speaking my mother tongue isn’t about ability-it’s about identity. ”

“You are important to me, Emma.” His voice dropped lower. “More important than you realize.”

The ambiguity of those words sent electricity through every nerve. Important how? As a convenient wife to satisfy family expectations? As a

project to mold? Or…

The wine made my thoughts fuzzy and reckless.

Part of me wanted to grab his coat and demand clarity. Part of me wanted to kiss him until the question became irrelevant.

But even through the pleasant haze of alcohol, some deeper instinct held me back.

So I did nothing. Just stood there clutching my snowman mug, letting the moment pass like all the others before it.

By nine o’clock, the Christmas market had transformed into something otherworldly.

The lights blazed brighter against the darkening sky, and soft snow drifted down to settle in my hair. My canvas tote bag bulged with our collection-barrel mugs, snowman mugs, tiny stein-shaped cups, each one a small treasure that Daniel had indulged without complaint.

He carried the bag now in one hand, his other naturally finding mine as we walked.

The scent of pine and cinnamon grew stronger as we entered the Christmas ornament section.

Wooden stalls displayed garlands and wreaths, hand-carved decorations, delicate glass baubles that caught the light.

Ahead, I noticed a shop with unusual foot traffic-couples streaming in and out, many of them kissing beneath the enormous green wreath hanging over the entrance.

My cheeks heated as I watched a young couple embrace under that wreath, the woman laughing as her boyfriend dipped her dramatically.

That wasn’t just any wreath.

Mistletoe.

I’d learned about the tradition in my American Culture class freshman year-how standing beneath mistletoe obligated a kiss, how refusing was

9:39 am PPP

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