The Forbidden Throb (Emma and Daniel) novel Chapter 137

Chapter 137

Emma’s POV:

Daniel stood there for a long moment, just looking at me.

Something shifted in his expression. Not disappointment, but a kind of quiet resignation mixed with understanding.

I know,” he said finally, his voice soft. “Take all the time you need.”

He reached for his briefcase on the side table, movements careful and deliberate, like he was giving me space even in the simple act of

gathering his things.

At the door, he paused, his hand resting on the handle. When he looked back at me, there was something almost helpless in his eyes.

“Emma.” His voice carried a note of gentle concern. “Don’t go out alone tonight. Some of the neighborhoods aren’t safe after dark.”

“I know, Daniel. The words came out sharper than I intended, threaded with something that tasted like tears, “I’m not a child.

“I’m not angry with you,” I heard myself say, the words tumbling out in a rush. “About… about everything. I just- My throat constricted. “I

need time.”

His hand fell to his side.

Down the hallway, footsteps approached. A blonde woman in hotel livery paused, her French-accented English tentative: “Is everything alright? Do you need assistance?”

“No, thank you.” Daniel’s response was swift, polite.

The door clicked shut.

I stared at the space where he’d been standing, at the slight indentation his shoes had left in the plush carpet, and tried to understand why knowing the truth made everything feel so impossibly heavy.

I stood at the floor to ceiling window, watching the Gothic spires of Notre Dame pierce the grey Parisian sky The light mitered through thea clouds, painting the Seine in shades of silver Beautiful. Cold. Distant.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table Fourteen unread messages Twenty three emails

Id been completely disconnected from the world for over a week in this dizzying whirlwind of conference work, revelations, and emotional upheaval, I hadn’t even glanced at messages from anyone except my pinned contacts

I set down the drawing carefully, tucking it between the pages of my notebook, and picked up my phone. Maybe focusing on mundane things would help.

Maybe I could force my brain to stop spinning in circles about Daniel, about childhood beaches, about everything I’d forgotten and everything f

chusters of unread notifications one by one

Luty Madione Emmas vou te time unck mer a few pages of French material for me? Also, lets grab dinner when you re hark in

I scrolled down

Lake Erhardoon had sest seven days worth of messages-morning greetings, evening check-ins, asking how I was doing with those prosect

Miu texts were friendly casual denged with genuine concem.

Then Hovis messages, a chanter ming of updates: Robert Williams-my stepfather-had been detained by police for investigation after the tomar itles gut sovstved the added 1 was eating well abroad, if I was enjoying the company-sponsored vacation.”

A whole pile of messages but my mental state was so depleted that nothing really registered. Everything felt distant, like I was reading about someone elses ide.

Carl I opened my email and saw the formal offer letter from Sarah Martinet’s firm.

That made my heart bear a little femen

My Mumio hovered over the screenshot burton. My first instinct-always-was to send it to Daniel. To share the small victories.

Then my finger moved on autoplim and tapped on the pinned conversation at the top of my list.

Daniel Prescon

Our last exchange was still his message form this morning: Tm here. It’s cold outside.”

Sent before he did for the medial college

I locked my phase Pressed face down against the dovet

Then grabbed the hunted down pul and pressed it over my face, letting out a puffed scream that was half frustration, half something I

Why did knowing moke

ack at the door made m

At the sung and fund wung French

standing in the hallway She wore the hotel crisp unikan and held an

ced day tog the past the

Chapter 137

Ms. Prescott? Her English was flawless, tinged with a Paris accent

My chest constricted He

sent you?

I’m here combat of Pre

Ja. She smiled, hoisting the bag He was quite specific about the meny He said, and gards Shop m

sensitive.

Heat crept up my neck as she transferred the containers into my hands

for

Inside: poached eggs with perfectly runny yolks, whole grain toast with avocado, a small steel-cut oatmeal with honey and almonds. Nothing heavy. Nothing that would upset my stomach the days of one sur

“There’s also this. The woman produced a massive bouquet of yellow roses from behind her back, still wadah ets wrong culture, yellow roses mean respect and care.

Tucked among the stems was a card in Daniel’s precise handwriting:

*I know you need time to process all, but take care of yourself. If you need me, call anytime.

I stood in the doorway, cradling roses and lukewarm soup, and felt something crack open in my chest. Not breaking withou

He’s always like this.

Always putting me first. Always patient, even when I didn’t deserve it. Even when I was the one being unreas after he’d been the one hurt, he’d been the one forgotten, he’d been the one carrying scars and secrets for years

ignorant.

He was the one who deserved to be upset. To demand answers. To ask why I’d forgotten hum

But instead, hed simply said: Take all the time you need.

God, what did I do to deserve this man?

I carried everything inside and set them carefully on the coffee table

Then I rethembered I still have the last gift Daniel gave to me before wy wend to Parta for open

My tends tremulded slightly as I pulled it oper

A Paris put transport day pass and bath it and in betul ropt

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