Chapter 5

five

"I refuse to believe that this article was written, word-for-word, by Henry Cryer. I refuse to believe it because I refuse to believe that I was responsible for hiring someone who wrote this , and believed for a second it would have a chance of being published," Allegra fumed, aggressively tapping her well-manicured nail down on the hard copy of the article she was referencing.

Emma exchanged a quick look with Brynn as they sat in Allegra's office, and in the split-second of eye contact, she could tell they were both on the same page.

And that page read that it would be shocking if Henry was still gainfully employed in the near future.

A beat went by, and they both realized Allegra was staring at them expectantly. Emma's eyebrows inched up in surprise; she'd believed this rant had been somewhat rhetorical.

Brynn cleared her throat. "Do you think it was plagiarized? Written by AI? Or maybe he had an off week?"

Emma couldn't help but quietly scoff. "More like an off two months."

As soon as the words left her mouth, everything inside of her froze.

Allegra was a good boss. Honestly, she was a really good boss. Demanding, worked long hours, sent both Brynn and Emma tasks on the weekends. But all of her past assistants had gone on to have meaningful careers in publishing. She allowed both Emma and Brynn to read every piece that made it to her desk, and she gave them space to critique and give their opinions.

Granted, it wasn't an editing circle, where everyone's thoughts mattered and had an equal voice. It was more of a test; at least, that was how Emma viewed it. Allegra would stare at her, direct and intense, as if measuring every word she said. She likely was.

But – until this moment – Emma generally had felt like she'd passed!

However, it was only after the words had left her mouth that she realized: her comment could very well sound like she was doubting Allegra's judgment where Henry was concerned. And Emma had already been at Olly long enough to know what happened when someone questioned Allegra's judgment.

She blamed Regan, she thought desperately. Blurting out whatever came to mind; she'd obviously been living with her for too long.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the high lift of Brynn's eyebrows in surprise at Emma's sardonic comment as well.

Keeping her composure, Emma sat with her shoulders straight, staring at her boss from across her desk. She could feel the stampeding of her heart in her chest.

Allegra quirked her head to the side as she stared back at Emma, giving her no visual indication of a response. Until – there . The slightest uptick of the side of her mouth as she hummed and dropped her gaze back to her open laptop. "You're quite right about that, Emma. It's been far too long since Henry's work has reflected the quality he was hired for."

She could have melted from relief.

"Brynn, I want you to collect Henry's work from the last three months. No, four. I want you to sum up any salient points made, then compare the work to samples of his work from the last two years since he was hired. I need a paper trail here. On my desk by tomorrow morning."

"Absolutely." Brynn was already tapping on her tablet, undoubtedly pulling up Henry's submissions.

"Emma," Allegra said, making Emma snap to attention.

"Yes?"

Allegra stared at her from over the top of her glasses. "You were selected for the Alton Writing Fellowship, correct?"

Emma gaped in surprise. "I was. Yes."

Her heart continued to pound in her chest, wondering where Allegra was going to go with this topic.

The Alton Writing Fellowship was one of the country's most competitive and coveted literary programs. Thousands of undergraduate and graduate students submitted portfolios, vying to fill one of only fifty spots. And each spot guaranteed a door into the literary world like no other for any aspiring writer. Tutelage and mentorship from well-known writers and editors, networking into the publishing world.

Emma had nearly fallen out of her chair in shock when she'd received her acceptance email four years ago.

Allegra sent her a critical stare. "You're my assistant. Why are you acting as though I would be unaware of your accomplishments?"

First and foremost, because Emma hadn't actually completed the fellowship.

She didn't say that, though.

Instead, as her cheeks burned, she cleared her throat and wracked her mind for the right response. Because she hadn't been aware that Allegra would have personally reviewed applications for her assistants? Because she wouldn't have thought Allegra would retain such a small detail from Emma's resume?

Neither answer sounded great.

"I apologize; I was just not expecting it to be brought up," she settled on.

God, she didn't think she'd had such an off day at work since she'd been hired.

She would admit, though, that she'd felt off-kilter since yesterday morning. Waking up first to Regan in her bedroom, quickly followed by the information that Kimberly was in their apartment, had made Emma feel so – off .

That feeling had continued throughout the day, no matter how much she'd tried to shake herself out of it.

Clearly, it had carried over.

"Right," Allegra drawled. "This year, I'm on the applicant review board. Given your experience, I figured you'd be my right-hand in the process. The submission deadline is today, and all those in my purview will be directed to you."

Emma nodded, perking up in excitement as she brought her tablet to life to start organizing her email files in preparation.

This was – by far – the biggest responsibility Allegra had given her since she'd started. And she was ready . She was so ready to prove herself she could taste it. It was how she'd always been.

"We have three weeks to decide who will move onto the interview rounds, so I do hope you're prepared for quite a bit of reading," Allegra continued, turning her attention back to her laptop once more.

Emma was already figuring out her color codes as she nodded, trying to bite back her smile; she didn't want to look like an insane person thrilled to have this responsibility dropped on her desk.

Even if that's exactly what she was.

"I'm always prepared for quite a bit of reading," Emma confirmed.

She swore she saw Allegra's lips tick up once more before she merely answered, "Good."

She was still riding that high as she left the office that evening.

Yes, it was seven in the evening by the time she was able to pack up.

Yes, the submitted portfolios had started rolling in an hour ago. There were already ninety-five emails in the Alton Fellowship email folder she'd created.

Yes, the disgusting heat wave was still wreaking havoc on everyone living in this densely populated concrete island.

Emma simply didn't care.

She fished her phone out of her back pocket as she felt it vibrating, her excitement only growing when she saw her grandmother's contact information reflected back at her.

"Hi, Gram," she answered, thrilled to share her updates.

After all, her grandmother was the one person who'd always been there to share in her triumphs and to support her in her failures. If there was one person who would understand Emma's elation at being entrusted with such a big project, she knew it was her gram. The same woman who'd taught her the value of working hard and being proud of a job well done.

"I'm sorry," her grandmother immediately apologized, forgoing a typical greeting.

Emma's swift stride toward the subway slowed. "You're… sorry?"

"I am," Gram confirmed. "I didn't want to interrupt you at work, and I know Mondays are busy for you; that's why I didn't call earlier. But I'm sorry, Emma. I had no idea your mom would go to your apartment without notice."

Though she'd been swept up in the craziness of her schedule, her grandmother's apology reminded her of yesterday's events.

It only slightly dimmed her excitement.

"Yeah," she responded, combing through the mix of emotions that were so easily recalled.

How jarring it had been to see Kimberly, amongst her belongings, in her home. Having coffee with her – and Regan – in their kitchen. Emma had been thrown into the situation that she'd been putting off for months, and Regan was there to witness it.

"I only gave her your address because she brought me to my cardiology follow-up a couple of weeks ago," her grandmother explained, sounding so earnest. "I'd wanted to add her to my emergency contact list, and it came up that she didn't have your information. It seemed like a good idea – her having all of your contact information – in case something ever happens and she needs to get a hold of you."

Emma reached up, rubbing her hand at her temples as she digested the explanation. "I get it," she finally said.

And she did.

She understood the connections her grandmother had made, and it wasn't as though Emma had ever instructed her gram not to give her information to Kimberly.

"And it's… fine," she added on after a minute, blowing out a deep breath.

Obviously, she hadn't been pleased , but it had – technically – been fine .

Kimberly hadn't stayed for long, and Regan… well, not only had Regan done her a solid favor, but she'd done it well.

Maybe a little too well. She supposed it wasn't a shock that Regan had been so comfortable acting so casually lovey-dovey toward Emma. Leaning into Emma as if she did it all of the time, dropping her hand to Emma's knee like it was a normal thing between them.

Honestly, Regan had been so casual about it that the action hadn't even registered to Emma as abnormal . It had been just as jarring as Kimberly's presence was to have realized that she had found some semblance of stability in Regan, however brief it had been.

"I'm so glad to hear that, Em. I really am." The relief in her grandmother's tone was palpable. "I heard all about it from Kimberly this afternoon."

Emma hummed under her breath as she turned onto the block where her subway stop was. Honestly, she had no idea what about the visit Kimberly could have said to Gram that had been so thrilling, given that she'd only been at their apartment for –

The horrifying realization dawned on Emma at the same time her grandmother started talking again.

"I'll admit, I was a little surprised to find out from your mom that Regan is your girlfriend!" Gram stated, sounding exactly that – surprised. "She said you two looked very sweet together."

Emma stopped walking right there, in the middle of the bustling sidewalk. "Uh."

It was all she could manage.

"I know you've been busy, of course. But… if you two live together, you must have been dating for a while. I'm not trying to pry, of course. I'm just – I suppose I just don't understand. Normally, when you have news about your personal life, you tell me. Or, I thought you did."

There it was: that slightly hurt tone that she could tell her grandmother was trying to hide so as not to make Emma feel badly.

The great news on that front was that Emma didn't feel guilty; she felt panicked.

"I do tell you." She couldn't help but state, as it was the truth.

She'd always told her grandma about her romantic life. Even though neither of them had ever been the type to be swept up in romantic fantasy, her grandmother had made it very clear to Emma throughout her adolescence that dating and sex weren't taboo discussions. That it was better to be frank and honest about emotional and physical health. It had clearly been a response on her grandmother's side to make sure Emma didn't end up as a pregnant teenager like her mother.

So, Emma had always been honest and open. Her grandmother had been the first person she'd confided in about her sexuality when she'd been fourteen. She'd been the person to comfort Emma through high school heartaches.

"I know I could sometimes be… harsh. About Felicity," her gram admitted ruefully. "In retrospect, I realize you haven't really discussed your romantic life with me since then."

Her grandmother had been somewhat harsh on the topic of Felicity. Gram had never liked Emma's ex; she'd thought Felicity was judgmental and elitist, that she hadn't prioritized Emma the way Emma had prioritized her. And her gram had never been one to pull punches, especially not when it came to how Emma was being treated.

" You need to be with someone who treats you well ," her grandmother had told her intently and often when she'd been with Felicity.

Emma had theorized – much like the teen pregnancy thing – it was because they'd both watched Kimberly make shitty, irresponsible dating choices for years, and Gram hadn't wanted to see history repeating.

Her grandmother's disapproval of Felicity had weighed heavily on Emma.

She'd lived her entire life wearing her grandmother's quiet stamp of approval with pride, and she hadn't quite known what to do, knowing that the person she'd fallen for would never have that same approval.

She'd also stayed in that relationship long enough to see that everything her grandmother had ever said about Felicity had been, unfortunately, accurate.

"I haven't told you anything about my dating life since Felicity," Emma echoed.

It was the truth – but it was only the truth because she hadn't had anything to say about her dating life in the last two years.

"I understand that, and what you do in your romantic life is your business," Gram stated, still with that hint of sadness in her voice. "I just wish I'd known. I've never missed one of your milestones, and living with a partner for the first time is a decent one."

"Um… I guess it is."

Emma wouldn't know; she'd never done it.

"But Kimberly said she was very friendly! Very pretty. Made an excellent cup of coffee."

"That's all true," Emma confirmed because Regan was friendly, pretty, and made the best coffee Emma had ever tasted. But, mostly, she was starting to feel a little overwhelmed.

More than a little.

"I know Astoria is a bit of a hike, but – now that the cat is out of the bag – I'd really like to meet the woman that's captured your heart."

Emma recognized that tone. That speculative tone told Emma that her grandmother very much wanted to meet Regan. Not only because she'd captured Emma's heart , but because she wanted to see if Regan measured up or if she was another Felicity.

She had to bite back the truth that wanted to come spilling from her mouth. It wasn't in her nature to deceive her grandmother, first and foremost. On top of that – she wasn't in a relationship with Regan fucking Gallagher!

But if she told her grandmother the truth, it would only bring about more questions: why would she have lied to her mother in the first place? Why would Emma, the woman Gram had done her best to raise as an honest person with integrity, have hidden behind such a silly un-truth? Why in the world would she and Regan, as two grown adults, have furthered the act and gone along with it in person?

How was it, Emma wondered as she stared bleakly at the passing taxis, that this was the one time in her life where telling the truth seemed to only bring about more complications?

"Yeah," she settled on instead. "Sometime soon."

Oh, there it was. The pounding headache that Emma should have seen coming two minutes ago.

She had to end this before she found herself in a deeper hole. "Gram, I'm sorry, but I'm about to get on the subway. I have to run."

By the time she got home, that headache was well on its way to becoming a migraine.

She was frustrated with her mother for a whole host of reasons – for being responsible for the way their relationship was. For presuming that Regan was her girlfriend and making it so easy for Emma to go along with it. For showing up yesterday unannounced. For sharing every last detail with Gram like a game of telephone.

She was frustrated with her grandmother for always letting Kimberly come sweeping back into their lives. For giving Kimberly Emma's address. For being such an incredible presence in Emma's life that she felt sick whenever she disappointed her.

And most of all, right now, she was frustrated with herself for being a fucking idiot and getting herself into this mess.

Shutting the apartment door behind her with a sharp snap, she closed her eyes tightly when she heard Regan's music blaring .

The insistent, worsening pain behind her left eye throbbed at the volume, her frustration bubbling over.

Because she was frustrated with Regan, too. Perpetually.

She only had to take a few steps down the hall before coming to an abrupt stop in the doorway to the kitchen.

Her eye twitched.

A slew of ingredients, utensils, mixing bowls, and pans were strewn all over the counters, the disorder of it all pushing her over the edge.

Regan was singing – loudly – along to one of the pop songs from an old 3G album she had blasting from the small speaker perched on the windowsill as she stood at the sink.

"Do you have to listen to your music at a deafening volume?!" Emma had to shout to be heard. She honestly wasn't sure she would be, even then.

Regan perked up, though, looking over her shoulder. A bright smile slid into place as she reached out and tapped on her phone, lowering the volume. "Hey! You're home! I wondered when I'd see you; you didn't answer my text about dinner. Or about how I have a surprise for you."

Yes, Regan had texted her to say she was in the mood to cook and wanted to know if Emma was craving anything. And had texted her again to say she had a little surprise and couldn't wait to show her.

But, "I was busy at work, and we didn't have dinner plans. We don't have dinner together," she stated plainly. "Other than the time you almost killed me. And given our track record, I wasn't expecting a surprise."

Regan waggled her finger in Emma's direction. "One day, you'll stop bringing that up; I was hoping today might be the one."

"Yeah, well, it's still pretty fresh," Emma retorted, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

Whenever she felt overwhelmed, as she did now, feeling constricted – like everything was in her control – made her feel a little better.

Regan was undeterred. "I'd just thought we could have dinner together before inviting you out tonight. I'm going to Beth's – my coworker at Topped Off? You've met her tons of times – soon. It's going to be a super chill thing, just a hangout. I made some cupcakes. Anyway, they're going to fucking die when I tell them about yesterday with your mom."

"How about you don't ?" Emma snapped, her frustration bleeding into her voice.

But she couldn't really care right now.

Regan tilted her head slowly as if having trouble computing her words. "Don't… what?"

"Don't go telling everyone you fucking know about my business! I told you my relationship with my mom is complicated; you witnessed it yourself." She flung her arm out, gesturing at the table between them. The scene of the crime. "You know that I don't want everyone that peripherally knows who I am to know my business. In fact, especially regarding yesterday, the fewer people that know, the better."

Regan shrugged, and the easiness of that shrug only irritated Emma further. "Okay? It was just an entertaining story."

Emma could literally feel herself hitting the breaking point as she glared incredulously at Regan. "It's not just an entertaining story; this is my life. My life with my mom. My grandmother calling me, trying to make plans to meet you, too. I'm the one who has to figure this all out, and it's really not entertaining."

Regan's mouth dropped open. "Your grandmother wants to meet me?!" She clapped her hands as if she were high-fiving herself. "Yes! Okay. You tell me where and when, and I will be girlfriend-ready."

Were they living on different planes of existence? Emma blinked at Regan, so utterly baffled as to how her statement could garner that reaction.

"The last thing. I want to do. Is introduce you. To my grandmother!"

Regan stared back at her, tossing her hands into the air. "Sorry, I just figured you weren't ready to clear up this complicated situation based on what happened yesterday."

"I'm not!" She shouted back before wincing. She brought her hand up to her temple, rubbing furiously as her migraine worsened. "But fooling Kimberly that you and I are together is one thing; my gram actually knows me. More than that, I had to manage the pressure of her disliking Felicity – well-educated, organized, responsible, ambitious Felicity – for years. I wouldn't even know where to begin to manage the flack I'd catch for being with you."

She dropped her head back with a groan. "And if I tell her we broke up, it will only invite more questions. Why are we still living together? Why would I move in with you if things were so unstable between us that we broke up within a month?"

It was her own fault. She knew that. For going along with Kimberly's dumb little assumption in the first place.

" Why did Kimberly even come over yesterday?" Emma muttered, shaking her head as she thought about Mr. Cuddles, now sitting on her bookshelf. "Why did you have to be awake and let her in?"

Thinking about her childhood bear made her stomach twist.

She hadn't understood at that moment that there would be any ramifications. She hadn't realized that one dumb little lie-by-omission could have such a snowball effect.

After she took a few moments to breathe in – deep breath in, slowly let it out – she looked back at Regan. Truthfully, she was shocked Regan hadn't said anything in the last thirty seconds.

It felt decidedly un-Regan.

So did the serious look on her face.

"Well, Kimberly did come over yesterday," Regan said, quietly. "And I was awake. And I did let her in. Because how the hell should I have known I wasn't supposed to? It's not like you gave me a list of acceptable visitors I should be on the lookout for. In fact, it's not like you voluntarily tell me anything, ever."

When Emma had muttered those words a minute ago, she hadn't actually been blaming Regan.

But Regan's uncharacteristically sharp tone made Emma feel even more defensive than she already had. It was an easily inspired feeling whenever she was around Regan already, let alone on a night like tonight.

Because – was Regan crazy ?

Emma stared at her like she was. "Well, it's not like you've ever given me a reason to confide anything in you." Before Regan could even attempt to disagree, Emma continued, "Do you even realize that our relationship is the way it is because basically every interaction we've ever had one-on-one goes miserably wrong? Due to you ?" She didn't even have to take a second to think before she was able to list the transgressions. "Spilling coffee all over me the literal day we really met. Followed immediately by you ripping my shirt in front of dozens of strangers–"

God, that memory still mortified her.

Regan narrowed her eyes. "I was trying to help you!"

Emma ignored that as easily as she had the day it happened. Whatever the intention was, the action had been insane.

And she had a whole laundry list more.

"I'm not even going to try to go through the last two years; I don't have to. All I have to do is recall the last few weeks. You lied about reading our roommate contract. Because of that, you sent me into anaphylactic shock. You broke my grandmother's antique porcelain hummingbirds the day I moved in. You constantly are in my business. And whenever we do spend any time together, I feel like I have to watch my back because – by your own admission – you were going to gossip about my life to your coworkers!"

When she was done, she simply stared. Waiting for Regan to attempt to refute the cold, hard facts.

Instead of the animated self-defense Emma anticipated – that she was ready for – Regan grew quiet. Quieter than Emma had ever borne witness to.

Regan crossed her own arms, withdrawing into herself in a way Emma had never seen. She cocked her head as she studied Emma closely, slowly shaking her head. "Do you even realize that all you just did was highlight that your bad attitude is why we've never been able to have a positive relationship?"

" What ?" She couldn't have heard that correctly. There was no fucking way.

Regan didn't laugh, though, nor did she change her tune.

She stared at Emma, her dark eyes so… cold. Startlingly chilly.

"All I do with you is try. All I have ever done with you – for some stupid reason – is try. Especially since you moved in. And yeah, sometimes I mess up, or things don't go according to plan–"

"Sometimes?" She cut in because – really? Sometimes? Was Regan kidding her?

This time, Regan ignored her. She shook her head. "But you never try with me. You never give me the benefit of the doubt or try to see anything from my side. You decided who I was the day we met – over an accident – and that was it."

Regan studied Emma as if reading her for the first time, a frown etching into her face. "So, congratulations, Emma; you finally get exactly what you've wanted since you moved in. I'll stop texting you, stop trying to hang out with you. You wanted a roommate you barely have to speak to, and you finally got her. Because I am so done trying."