Page 29 of Thin Lives

“You called me Emmy.”

He had.

Calisto racked his brain, searching for a reason why he had done that, and coming up with nothing. No one called her Emmy. Not Affonso, not his men, or the few people she talked to. He hadn’t once heard anyone use that nickname for Emma in the few times he had been in her presence that he remembered.

“Who calls you Emmy?” Calisto asked.

Emma’s face remained passive—blank, even. But he saw it, the brief flash of pain and sadness in her gaze, and the tremor that rocked her bottom lip before she bit hard into it.

“No one,” she said quietly.

Calisto didn’t believe that, or he wouldn’t have used it. “Someone must.”

Emma waved it off, saying, “No one here, Cal.”

“But I do?”

Subtly, she nodded. “Yeah, you do.”

Calisto

For a long while, Calisto simply stared at Emma without saying anything after her quiet confession. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. Before long, she had Midnight in her arms and was making her move to leave the library.

Calisto couldn’t let her do that, not after what she said.

“Wait,” he said, reaching out to grab her arm.

His fingers encircled her wrist, stopping her entirely. She froze on the spot, and it was impossible to ignore the heat that seemed to siphon straight from her skin into his palms, never mind the shiver that raced over her arm.

Calisto watched Emma as her gaze flicked between his hand on her wrist, and back up to his face.

“Just … wait a second,” he said quieter.

Emma swallowed hard, gaze darting to the open doorway. “Can you make it fast? I’m supposed to be resting. Doctor’s orders and all.”

Yes, Calisto was aware of that.

He just didn’t know the extent of the problems with her pregnancy, or why she had them at all. None of that had been explained very well to him except for the fact that Affonso made it clear the issues were personal business, and not for public consumption. Calisto had enough respect for both his uncle, and Emma as a woman, not to ask for more details.

But he was curious.

“I’ll make it fast,” he said.

Emma smiled a little. “Okay. Ask whatever is on your mind.”

“I called you Emmy.”

“I already said that, Calisto.”

“But no one else around here does,” he pressed.

She shook her head. “Affonso doesn’t like it.”

“Yet I call you it.”

“You used to,” she corrected gently.

Calisto took that in slowly. “Before my accident.”