She joins me fifteen minutes later, bare feet tentatively stepping into the room. She’s showered and dressed in joggers and a camisole that sculpts to her curves in a way that has my mouth watering. Those breasts are too beautiful to be covered.
I place cereal bowls on the table, and the two of us eat in relative silence.
Then Graham mews, cutting through the quiet scraping of spoons and slurps of milk.
Ah.
That’s what he wants.
Before I can attend to the little fur baby, Emily’s chair scrapes back and she scoops him into his arms, kissing his head.
I wish she were kissing me. I yearn for the feel of her lips pressed against mine. Will she one day let me do it again? It’s so hard to let her be in control. To be the one that decides when the time is right.
“Hi, baby,” she coos at Graham, her voice taking on that babyish tone that we all use when talking to animals. “How are you? What do you want?”
“He’s probably jealous we have milk and he doesn’t,” I answer—you know, since he can’t.
Her brows furrow. “You give him milk?”
I shrug. “He’s a cat.”
“Eli…” she starts, trailing off as if she’s not sure how to respond. “You know most cats are lactose intolerant?”
My jaw drops.
I’ve been poisoning my boy?
“No? What? Surely not?” I practically squeak.
Emily nods her head, stroking Graham lovingly. “Yeah, you really shouldn’t give him cow’s milk.”
“Will he be okay?” I gasp, shoving away from the table so I can run my hands over Graham's fluffy body as he curls further into Emily’s arms.
She tilts her head at me, assessing. “You really love him, don’t you?” she asks, a little disbelieving.
I’m quick to answer. “Of course I do. He’s your baby, that makes him my baby.”
She chokes. “My…. Your… Oh my God.”
“Emily, focus. Is he okay?” I snap.
She immediately straightens. “You just called me Emily. Not Angel.”
My head hit my hands, fingers tugging at strands of my hair.
Emily places her hand over mine, forcing my head up. “He’ll be fine. It’s not been long enough for it to do him any damage. Just don’t do it again.” She smiles at me. With genuine warmth. “Also, you can call me Em, if you want.”
26
To Me, It’s Priceless
Emily's Search History: How much is a human heart actually worth on the black market?
Emily
Ihadamomentaryslip where I forgot that Eli is my captor and a murderer. His concern for Graham was just so genuine. So… innocent.
It made my armour break.