The Perfect Emma

Chapter Forty-Eight

Grayson Todd

It had definitely been fifteen minutes, more than fifteen minutes, by the time Grayson had stopped off at home to take off his tie and such and then gone immediately back out. When he'd pulled up to Emma's former residence, he could see that the front door was open, while the screen door was not. Emma had not texted him that she was fine, and the sounds of arguing—one-sided, by the sound of it—that drifted from the open door did not reassure him. He stood by the car for a moment, listening, mostly to see if his intervention was necessary. Of course, it wasn't like he wouldn't go in there, but there was a chance Emma bolstered the courage to stand up for herself.

"Always gotta try to be fucking special. S'probably why you got yourself kidnapped, wasn't it? Just begging to be different? Fucking... now I have to clean your mess up."

However, it quickly became clear that she had not.

With a bit of lingering temper from earlier today, it wasn't surprising that Gray was heading up the pathway a bit less than calmly. He opened the screen door and stepped inside to see Emma desperately cleaning up glass on the floor, while Arthur looked on in confusion. At the sight of the detective, the man waved a hand in exasperation and muttered, "Oh great."

Gray wisely chose to ignore him. He went over to Emma and crouched beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Emma," he murmured.

She looked up at him, slightly startled, her eyes glossy, and he sighed. He...had expected this. And considering her first text, she had too.

"Stop," he told her, gently taking her hands and moving them away from the glass. It was then he noticed the origin of said glass and he understood. So not only did Arthur cheat, but he had no problem openly displaying it like this? Grayson wasn't surprised that, he assumed, Emma had broken it. And considering the appalling words that had just come from Arthur's mouth, Gray was sincerely fighting the urge to throw a punch. Just how insensitive can a person be? And how had Emma married him in the first place?

Yes, Arthur. You should clean up this mess.

Gray guided Emma back to her feet and murmured, "Go out to the car. Okay?"

His presence, as usual, had a calming effect over her, and she nodded. She grabbed a shopping bag and suitcase before leaving the place and making her way down the walkway.

The men were now alone, and they faced each other, both angry, but one much more calm in appearance. Arthur put his hands on his hips and stared at Gray expectantly, knowing the detective was going to have something to say.

And boy, did Gray have words.

"Are you...fucking insane?" he asked, managing to hang onto his composure.

The other man scoffed. "Am I insane? She's the one throwing shit around—"

"You cheated on her with her best friend. That seems an appropriate response to me." Grayson scowled. "I'm not sure you've realized this yet, but Emma was abducted. She was taken from her home against her will, beaten, tortured, physically and mentally traumatized possibly beyond repair, and your response is to forget that she exists and be annoyed when she manages to survive. She didn't just...." Gray motioned vaguely in irritation. "Take a fucking vacation. And for you to treat her being locked in a basement for a year and three months straight like a trip to the Bahamas you weren't invited to is insensitive and disgusting. You, sir, do not deserve to be angry." He pointed down at the broken picture frame, and thus the picture of Arthur and Lily kissing. "You created that mess. It is your responsibility to clean it up."

The other man was silent, but clearly still fuming.

Before Arthur could formulate some retort, Gray then gestured at the yellow envelope on the floor as well. He didn't need to be a detective to figure out what those were. As he turned to go, he said, "I believe those are divorce papers, by the way. But hey, you've never listened to me before, so I'm probably wrong." And with that, he left.