Page 143 of Fever Dream
I spent enough of last night spiraling over Theo’s warning, lying in my darkened room in sheets that still smelled like Emmett—wondering how my brother could be so wrong about him.
He breaks hearts.
He gets around.
He’s just not a one-woman guy.
Those three sentences continue to pop up in my brain, and I continue to push them away. Because that conversation yesterday felt like a dream. And I want to hold on to better memories instead.
A lazy morning with Emmett at my place, lunch with my family that he was unexpectedly—and fairly successfully—included in, followed by an afternoon walk with my niece and nephew, and the drive-in movie theater that night.
The only way it could have been better is if Emmett had been along for the whole day. But I also know that integrating him completely might take a little more time.
I got the sense that he was backing off after lunch, and honestly, I understood. We were thrown into an impromptu family meeting, and I suspect Emmett was a little out of his element in that setting.
Especially now that I know Theo’s true feelings about the guy.
Luckily, my mom remained polite about the unexpected development. It was only Winter who nudged me a couple times and gave me a wink or a knowing smile.
With all these considerations swirling in mind, I make my way to the utility trailers where much of the crew is already working. I’m not dreading work the way I usually do because I know that there’s only one week left.
One week left of this terrible charade.
One week left before Emmett and I can take this unspoken step forward.
It’s like we’re both waiting for that final shoe to drop so that we can be free. WithRomance Ranchbehind us, we’ll be able to start fresh. To try this thing out for real. Without Richard breathing down our necks.
Of course, there’s still the fact that we’ll need to keep it secret for an entire year. Something I can’t currently bring myself to face.
I sidestep all my worries. I lean on a skill that I’ve honed quite well over the past couple years: avoiding my problems by engaging in extreme productivity.
Which is why I’ve arrived to the set early.
“Good morning,” I singsong as I march into the production trailer with a box of donuts for the crew. “I come bearing goodies to make Monday morning a little more bearable.”
I plunk them down in front of Ben, and he turns to me with glee on his face. “Thank you, but this morning is already off to a great start.”
“Why is that?” I swipe a donut for myself, taking a bite before I prop a hip on the desk, glancing down at his large monitor.
“Because it would appear our bachelor wasverybusy last night.”
He clicks play, and I stop chewing.
The donut turns to sawdust in my mouth. My stomach drops hard and fast. The sick lurching takes over every synapse as I watch Evelyn’s silhouetted figure creeping up the front steps of Emmett’s cottage.
“Emmett, it’s me,” she murmurs.
I expect her advances to prove fruitless, but the front door swings open, and a darkened male figure fills the entryway.
I swallow but the donut lodges in my throat, making me feel like I’m choking.
It’s too dark to pick up any detail on the grainy security cameras, but the microphones picked up everything.
“Thank god you’re here,” Emmett responds.
My entire body feels like it’s on fire and my temples throb with betrayal.
“I told you I’d be able to sneak off.”
