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Relief floods through me, making me feel weak for a moment.
"You are not Isobel," I say. "I know this. You never needed anything from me but love, and I couldn't believe I deserved that. Mentioning the contract every time we grew closer… You were right. I used it as a wedge. I also used it as a sort of insurance policy, to keep you around even after you got tired of me. Not signing the damn thing, that was a sign I should've recognized sooner if I weren't such an eejit. I couldn't do it because I didn't want you to stay for the money. I wanted you to stay for me."
"But I didn't know you never signed the contract." She shifts in place as if she can't find a comfortable position on the bench. "Besides, it was the other stuff that mattered more. You don't trust me."
"I do."
"Really? You thought you had to pay me to stay. You wouldn't explain why you got drunk on our wedding night, or a ton of other things."
I nod toward the empty space on the bench. "May I sit beside you?"
"Do what you want."
Though I settle onto the bench, I maintain a distance between us. "I've been a bastard, I know. You have no reason at all to come back to me, but you are wrong. I trust you. The things I said over the past few weeks, they came from my fears and had nothing to do with you."
"Nothing? Come on, Rory."
"Well, they had something to do with you." I angle toward her, laying an arm across the bench behind her shoulders. "The more time I spent with you, the harder it was to deny the truth. I fell in love with you, Emery. My behavior at the wedding, that was the day I realized how much you mean to me. When I saw you coming down the aisle toward me, in that fairy-tale dress with your hair gleaming in the sun like a halo. Your smile was so sweet and full of…love. And deep down I knew I loved you, more than I've loved anyone in my life."
Her focus remains on me, but I can't gauge her state of mind.
"Getting buckled was a mistake I'll regret forever," I tell her, my voice soft but imbued with all my tangled emotions. "You deserved a perfect wedding, particularly after the way I bulldozed you into marrying me in front of a magistrate. Realizing I love you, it turned me into a bampot of the worst sort. I knew if you left me, and I was certain you would, I would never feel this way again."
Emery says nothing for a moment that feels like an eternity, her gaze on me but her thoughts impossible to decipher. Then she straps her arms over her belly. "This is partly my fault, I'm sorry."
"How on earth is it your fault?"
"You told me, in your own way, you weren't ready for a real relationship. I agreed to a marriage of convenience, then I demanded you care about me." She sags against the bench with my arm supporting her shoulders. "I pushed you at every turn, tried to make you change. That's what Isobel did to you. I convinced myself I was your therapist." She snorts. "And that you needed my help—wanted it, even. I drove you to drink. That's my doing."
"Emery…" I slide a little closer. "Nothing is your fault. You put up with me no matter what I did, forgave me every time I acted like a bastard. Your love changed me, not because you forced me to do anything, but because I couldn't help loving you. I need you with me, and I have evolved."
"Just like that? It's been a day, Rory. Nobody changes overnight. You want me to come home, but that doesn't mean anything will be different if I do."
"I didn't change overnight." I brush a lock of hair away from her face. "You showed me how to love again. It took weeks. It took too much effort from you and not enough cooperation from me, but it happened. Last night without you, not knowing if you'll ever come home, I finally gave up being afraid of this. I will do anything for you. Please believe me, m'eudail."
She clutches her belly as sweat beads on her forehead.
"You're unwell, Emery."
When I reach out to touch her forehead, she bats my hand away.
"I've got the flu," she says. "Probably caught it from the chickens."
"Chickens?"
"You know, bird flu." She groans. "Never mind, dumb joke."
I scrutinize her, my lips tight. "Let me take you to a doctor."
"No, I'm fine, really." Emery heaves her body off the bench, and though she turns toward me, she doesn't meet my gaze. "I need a nap, that's all. And you need to do more thinking before you announce you've overcome your fears. Please, go home. I'll call you tomorrow."
"I don't need more time, Emery. I need you." I rise from the bench. "But I'm more concerned with your health today. You need a doctor."
"I need sleep." Her face is grey, and her lips are pale. "We'll talk more tomorrow, okay?"
Emery hurries into the house with a shuffling gait, as if her feet have become too heavy, and trips over the threshold. Though I sprint after her, she slams the door shut in my face.
"Emery!" I hear Erica shout from inside the house.
