Chapter 240.

By the time Adrian and Emilia left Sophia’s room, the afternoon had softened around the edges.

The visit had lasted longer than Emilia expected.

Rowan had promptly added that Emilia should come without Adrian next time, because his presence made everyone unnecessarily sentimental.

Adrian had told her to find another hobby.

It had been, Emilia thought, a good afternoon. She never knew Adrian and Rowan bantered so much.

But because, for a few hours, they had been a family.

A complicated one, perhaps. A family with too many opinions, amd too much teasing. And Emilia had been allowed to sit among them without feeling like she needed to earn her place.

She stood beside Adrian in the corridor while he spoke quietly with Sophia’s nurse. His hand rested against the small of her back, warm through the thin material of her dress.

He had been touching her like that all afternoon.

Just the occasional brush of his fingers against her waist, his palm settling between her shoulder blades when they walked, his thumb moving over the back of her hand whenever he caught her looking at him.

As though he wanted to remind himself that she was there. As though he had things he wanted to say but had not yet found the words.

Emilia understood that feeling.

She had spent much of the afternoon watching him with Sophia, seeing the boy beneath the man he had become.

When his mother had admitted that she was sometimes afraid, he had looked like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart.

She had slipped her fingers through his beneath the edge of the blanket on Sophia’s bed.

He had held on.

Now, as the nurse finished speaking, Adrian thanked her and turned toward Emilia.

"Ready?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He studied her face. "Tell me what it is."

"Nothing."

"Usually, when you say nothing, you’re thinking something that will eventually become my problem."

"That’s a very unkind assessment of your girlfriend."

"It’s an extremely accurate one."

She glared at him.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead before she could formulate a response.

One second, she was preparing to defend her character. The next, his lips were against her skin, his hand had moved to the side of her neck, and she had forgotten what she intended to say.

When he pulled away, his expression was infuriatingly composed. "Come on, love." He took her hand, and approached the elevator.

"You can’t just kiss me when I’m making a valid point."

"I can."

He stopped beside the elevator and turned toward her. He held her gaze for a few seconds.

She stared at him for a moment before a reluctant smile escaped her.

Adrian smiled back, looking pleased with himself. She hated how much she loved that expression.

The elevator doors opened.

He took her hand and guided her inside. Emilia let herself lean against him. His arm came around her shoulders immediately.

He held her while the elevator descended, with his cheek resting lightly against her hair.

For a little while, neither of them spoke.

It was comfortable.

That was one of the things Emilia was still learning about Adrian. Silence with him did not always mean something was wrong.

Sometimes, it was just silence.

Sometimes, she could rest her head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat without feeling compelled to fill the space between them with words.

Sometimes, she could be tired without explaining herself. And sometimes, he seemed to understand that she needed exactly that.

When the elevator reached the ground floor, Adrian lifted his head.

"Are you hungry?"

Emilia considered the question. "Does chocolate count as lunch?"

"No."

"Then no."

He gave her a look.

She smiled sweetly. "I ate a sandwich."

He shook his head. "It’s been hours," he recalled, opening the elevator doors.

The driver was waiting near the entrance, speaking quietly into his phone. He ended the call as soon as he noticed them and opened the rear door of the car.

"Good afternoon, sir."

"Afternoon, James."

The driver nodded at Emilia as well. "Miss Hayes."

"Good afternoon." She gave him a polite nod.

Adrian placed one hand over the top of the door while Emilia climbed inside. She had barely settled onto the seat when he reached in after her, took her handbag from her shoulder, and placed it beside him.

Then he got in.

James closed the door.

The car was quiet, cool, and faintly scented with leather and the cedar fragrance Adrian wore. Sunlight fell through the tinted windows in pale strips, moving across the seats as the car pulled away from the hospital entrance.

Emilia settled back.

Adrian reached for the seat belt beside her, drew it across her body, and fastened it carefully. His fingers brushed the side of her waist as he adjusted the strap so it would not press awkwardly against her dress.

She looked down at the belt, then up at him. "I know how to use a seat belt."

"I wanted to fix it for you."

Emilia’s heart turned embarrassingly tender. She looked out the window with a soft smile, and her eyes bright with affection towards him.

Adrian watched her for a moment. He smiled. "Come here."

She turned back. "What?"

He lifted his arm, offering her the space beside him. "Come here, sweetheart."

Emilia looked at the space between them. It was hardly a space at all. Her expression softened, and she moved toward him.

Adrian drew her into his arms as naturally as if he had been waiting for her to make the decision all afternoon. He shifted against the seat, settled one arm around her back, and guided her head beneath his chin.

Then he tucked her legs across his lap.

Emilia made a small sound of surprise. "Adrian."

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Getting comfortable."

She lifted her head to look at him. "How about you get comfortable when we get home?"

He glanced toward the window. "Home is a few mimutes away. Might as well start now."

From the front seat came a discreet cough. It sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Emilia covered her mouth.

Adrian looked delighted.

James kept his eyes on the road. "Apologies, sir."

Adrian reached up and moved a strand of hair away from her face. He brushed his thumb over her cheek. "My favourite woman."

Emilia’s cheeks reddened, and she immediately hid her face against his chest.

"You’re blushing." Adriam chuckled.

"I’m not."

"Your ears are red."

"Adrian."

"Your neck, too."

She pinched his side. He caught her hand before she could do it again and brought her knuckles to his lips.

"I’m lucky. You’re blushing," he murmured. "In broad daylight."

He kissed her hand again.

She tried to glare at him, but it was difficult when he was holding her as though he had nowhere else to be.

It was even more difficult when his fingers began moving slowly up and down her back, tracing small, absentminded circles through the fabric of her dress.

There was nothing hurried about it.

Emilia let her head fall against his chest again.

His heartbeat was steady beneath her ear.

She listened to it for a while. Then, very quietly, she said, "You were worried today."

Adrian’s hand paused. Only for a second. Then it continued its gentle movement along her back.

"About my mother?"

She nodded against him.

He was silent for a moment. "She looked tired."

"She is tired."

"I know."

"And the treatment has been difficult."

"I know that, too." Adrian cleared his throat. "I still need her around for a very long time."