The Forbidden Throb (Emma and Daniel) novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Emma’s POV:

The next morning arrived gray and misty, typical Portland weather.

I woke to find Grandma already up, moving around the kitchen with determined efficiency.

‘I made us breakfast,” she announced when I appeared in the doorway. “We should eat before we go.”

I noticed she’d already showered and dressed in her good blue cardigan–the one she wore to church on Sundays.

“Grandma, you don’t have to dress up for a doctor’s appointment.”

She straightened, regarding me with thinly veiled amusement. “A lady should always present herself properly, Emma. It’s not about the appointment–ity about self–respect.”

I bit back my response, suddenly feeling foolish.

Grandma had adjusted faster than New England weather could change–from last night’s tears and vulnerability to this mornings put–together competate As if my panic had been the real problem all along.

“What?” She looked at me suspiciously.

“Nothing.” I shook my head, unable to suppress a slight smile. “You’re just… remarkably resilient.

The Portland Medical Center was a modest building compared to Mass General, but it had the same antiseptic smell, the water

I kept my hand on Grandma’s elbow as we navigated to the oncology department.

“This is unnecessary fuss, she murmured.

Humor the

Dr White was a woman in her fifties with kind eyes and efficient movement, she pulled up

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Chapter 43

Everything was exactly as I’d left it–my textbooks still open on the desk, Olivia’s jacket draned were that; the coffee mug lid forgotten to wa

by the window.

But something fundamentally different. I’d gone from Emma Johnson, college student, or Dinema–Prescoti married woman

Olivia was out–probably at the station, working on some story–so I had the space to myretli colicored onto my bed, staring at the ceiling, tryi process everything that had happened in the past week.

My phone rang, shattering the silence. Victoria s name flashed on the screen.

I almost didn’t answer. But something in me–old habit, daughterly obligation–made me pick up

Emma, thank God. Her voice was high, panicked. I need you to come hoone. Mizi now

My heart dropped. ‘What’s wrong? What happened?”

For a split second, I wondered if she knew about my breakup with Nictiobas.

“It’s Leo. He fell. Robert’s at work and I–I don’t know what to do. There’s blood and-

“Mom, slow down,” I said, already moving toward the door. Tishaecconscious? Is he breathing?”

“Yes, yes, but Emma, please. I need you.”

The words cut through me. I need you. Words Ild/waiteellmywhole childhood to hear.

“Call 911 first,” I said, already moving toward thieedboor. Timoon my way. Twenty minutes.”

I made it in fifteen.

Victoria’s house–Robert’s house, really–wassantly colonial in a respectable suburb. The kind of place that screamed were anna

much.

Victoria met me at the door, vonalbelagamsther chest, his face red and streaked with tears. He was sobbing -o grat

trembling, with each cry.

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Chapter 43

Everything was exactly as I d left it–my textbooks still open on the desk, Olivia’s jacket draped over her chair, the coffee mug I’d forgotten to was by the window.

But something fundamentally different. I’d gone from Emma Johnson, college student, to Emma Prescott, married woman.

Olivia was out–probably at the station, working on some story–so I had the space to myself. I collapsed onto my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying process everything that had happened in the past week.

My phone rang, shattering the silence. Victoria’s name flashed on the screen.

I almost didn’t answer. But something in me–old habit, daughterly obligation–made me pick up.

na, thank God. Her voice was high, panicked. ‘I need you to come home. Right now.”

art dropped. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

or a split second, I wondered if she knew about my breakup with Nicholas.

“It’s Leo. He fell. Robert’s at work and I–I don’t know what to do. There’s blood and-”

“Mom, slow down,‘ I said, already moving toward the door. “Is he conscious? Is he breathing?”

“Yes, yes, but Emma, please. I need you.”

The words cut through me.

“Call 911 first,” I said

I made it in fif

Victori

Is I’d waited my whole childhood to hear.

the door. “I’m on my way. Twenty minutes.”

ly–was a tidy colonial in a respectable suburb. The kind of place that screamed were doing untime

o cradled against her chest, his face red and streaked with tears. He was sobbing in great haupung

dforward.

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