The Forbidden Throb (Emma and Daniel) novel Chapter 67

Chapter 67

She shook her head, another tear falling. “But today I-

I waited, keeping my expression open, receptive.

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The silence stretched. Around us, the convenience store hummed with mundane activity–the refrigerator cycling, someone paying for cigarettes at the counter, the electronic beep of the register.

Emma’s hands were shaking now, fingers twisting together in her lap.

I didn’t push. Didn’t prompt. Just let the quiet space exist until she was ready to fill it.

Finally, her voice came out flat. “There was… at work, there was this dinner. My editor, he… he touched me under the table. And I just–1 froze. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t tell him to stop. I just made an excuse and left like a coward.”

The fluorescent lights suddenly felt too bright. Too harsh.

Every muscle in my body went rigid.

“Which editor?” My voice sounded strange to my own ears. Distant. Too calm.

She flinched slightly at my tone. I immediately regretted it.

“James Hayes,” she whispered.

My hands had curled into fists under the table. I forced them to relax, finger by finger, before she could notice.

James Hayes.

I knew the name. I’d seen it in the paper, watched him receive awards at journalism galas. Respected. Influential.

The urge to find him, to make him understand exactly what he’d done-

But Emma was here. Emma needed me to be calm.

“Listen to me.” I waited until her eyes met mine. “Being afraid doesn’t make you a coward. It makes you human.

I kept my voice steady, controlled: “That man took advantage of his position. That’s on him. Not you.

But I didn’t-

“You got yourself to safety. The words came out more forcefully than I’d intended. “You removed yourself from the situation. You called

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9:19 Sat, May 9 …

Chapter 67

me for help. Do you know how much courage that takes? How many people can’t do even that?”

She was staring at me now, tears still falling but slower.

“Telling someone takes courage too,” I continued. “Acknowledging what happened, saying it out loud–that’s the first step in taking back your power. And you did that.”

Her breath caught. “I… I didn’t expect…”

“What?”

“That you’d understand.” Her voice was barely audible. “I’m afraid you’d think I was making too much of it. Or that I’d somehow

encouraged-”

“No.” The word came out hard. I had to pause, moderate my tone. “Emma, no. You did nothing wrong. Nothing.”

The relief that crossed her face was devastating.

I held out my hand.

I held her carefully, one hand settling at the small of her back, the other coming up to cradle her head. My coat–still draped over her

shoulders–created a buffer between us, but I could feel the tremors running through her frame.

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“You’re safe,” I murmured against her hair. “I’ve got you.”

She made a sound that might have been agreement or simply exhaustion, her fingers clutching the fabric of my shirt.

Once she was settled in the passenger seat, I adjusted the temperature controls, directing the heat toward her.

Emma leaned her head against the window, eyes already half–closed.

“Tired?” I asked softly, pulling out onto Commonwealth Avenue.

“Mmm.” A non–answer, but her eyelids were drooping.

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By the time I merged onto Storrow Drive, Emma’s breathing had deepened into the steady rhythm of sleep.

I glanced over at her. In repose, the tension had finally left her face.

With my free hand, I pulled out my phone and made a call.

“I need you to look into someone.” I kept my voice low. “James Hayes. Senior editor at the Boston Chronicle.“

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The ho Bisern thoden Throb

Chapter aster 68

woke to antamatta coland iar ceiling moldings.

For a disorienting momating moment, 1 couldnt place where I was.

Then it came back. Danessa Damel’s apartment. Our apartment, technically, trough my, though the word still felt for

I sat up slowly, wincing at the mng at the dull ache behind my eyes.

The last thing I remembered membered clearly was failing asleep în Daniel’s car, the engines, the engines hun and his oblivion.

He must have carried me inside inside

The thought sent heat creeping up my my up my neck. I glanced down–still fully dressed in ye cressed in yesterday’s clo the door

A glass of water sat on the nightstand best and beside a warming steam eye mask and a brief notedin Duner note in Dani There’s breakfast in the kitchen.

The memory of last night flooded back wien buck with mortifying clarity–me, sobbing in a convenience convenience sto damp patch my tears must have left on ne anton his shirt.

tiple # pressed my palms against my burning cheeks. tg cheeks. God! How embarrassing.

My ploMy phone showed 7:47 AM. Wednesday morning. Isoning i should be getting ready for work.

Work Work

James games’s actions replayed with brutal clarity in my my du my mand, every detail sharp–edged and unavoidable,

The shame wane was immediate and visceral, tightening around ng around my ribs like a vice.

In the bathe bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face, avoiding avoiding my reflection

I stood there care for a lung moment, gripping the edge of the sum of the sink, my mind already spiraling through loge 30s Face Jorocs ingrs and pretend nothing happened? Or should I coin–us I wait–wst walk away?

sac / was i have to go to the office. I realized.

9:19 Sat, May 9

The Forbidden Throb

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