Emma hesitated shyly in front of her bedroom door. "Thing is..." she started, turning toward me.

I raised my eyebrows in amusement as I shifted my case from one hand to the other.

"Well, the thing is," she started again and then groaned. "The surprise visits are grand and romantic but they don't give me time to clean, now do they?"

"It can't be that bad." My laughter was cut short by Emma's stern frown.

"The other thing is," she started, her hand firmly gripping the doorknob. "This was my childhood bedroom."

"I know," I grinned cheekily as I wiggled my eyebrows.

Her furrowed brow impressively deepened. "Maybe you should un-unarrange your reservation at the inn."

"Emma," I moaned playfully. "Let me in! It can't be as bad as you think it is."

I was practically bouncing on the balls of my feet like a child myself. Emma and I had spent the afternoon trading kisses between the village hedgerows. Her mother had prepared a roast, and the three of us sat around the table swapping stories.

"So nice to have a third place to set again," Mrs. Henderson had murmured as I cleared the plates. Emma had squeezed her mother's hand, but then quickly released it saying nothing.

It was a brief moment, but in it, I began to wonder if it wasn't just me Emma avoided the subject of her father with. As I set the dishes in the sink, I hoped for her sake I was wrong.

"Are there embarrassing posters?" I teased. "Teen idols with lipstick kisses plastered all over their faces?"

She rolled her eyes. "What's seen, Thomas, cannot be unseen."

I suddenly stopped bouncing. "Are you this worried about me seeing your room because you secretly want to live with me and don't want me to retract my offer?"

"Just for that—", she gibed as she swung open the door.

"What the—"

The room was covered in... everything. It was like an avalanche of some sort had taken place and yanked all of Emma's belongings... everywhere. Books, frames, clothes, stuffed animals, books, and more books.

Emma stepped past me as if she could block the chaos from my view.

"It was all in boxes," she rushed in.

My mouth hung open. "And the boxes..."

"Tumbled over." She sighed forlornly as she carefully picked her way through a field of things, which—I assumed—had at one time been the floor. "It was quite the seismic event."

"And you stacked the boxes instead of... unpacking them?"

Emma turned away from me to face the wall opposite her. It was covered in bookshelves punctured by a compact window peering out into the darkness of the night. Compared to the city, Kerry has very little light pollution which made the night sky and its stars all the more impressive.

"Didn't have the heart to," Emma murmured.

I dropped my case at my feet and leaned my shoulder into the doorframe, dragging my hand over the contours of my face. The exhaustion of the past weeks—only hours earlier dissipated by my joy in our reunion—suddenly pommeled my every muscle.

I gruffly pressed the heels of my palms into my forehead, trying to stave my exhaustion from seeping into my voice lest Emma misinterpreted it to be about the state of her room, as if such a trivial thing could ever come between us. "Honest, Emma, I'm trying to understand. Really I am—"

"It was a poor stack job," she cut in desperately. "I'll own that, but it wasn't the worst that's ever—"

"Do you even want to be in Kerry?"

I dropped my hands to see her staring at me, her eyes wide and unblinking as if I had suddenly grown three heads. Perhaps I had, the growing strain in the muscles along my neck certainly felt proportionate.

"Of course not!" She let out a disbelieving laugh and shook her head as if to rid herself of even the possibility. "I want to be in London... with you."

I gawked at her. If what she said was true...

"Then why—"

"I told you: I need to figure out how to stand up on my own two feet."

I pointedly glanced about the room.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, clearly I have a ways to go in that department."

I warily followed her path to the edge of the bed, not wanting to step on a mislaid treasured object. I relaxed again as my body plunked down into the space next to her. With a sigh, I shifted my body to better face her. "Ems—"

"I thought you came here to break up with me," she said suddenly, her eyes rimmed with tears and staring at a fixed point on the windowsill.

I froze. "Wh-what? Why would you ever—"

"I saw the photos, of you and Charlie," she explained with a small shrug. "I have a news alert for you on my phone. I thought it'd help me feel closer to you," she added with a sad laugh.

I pulled her into my side, tucking her head snuggly under my chin. "I was just... blowing off some steam."

"Right," she breathed, unconvinced.

"I didn't..." I glared up at the ceiling, hating that I even felt the need to assure her of this. "It was just Charlie and I. I know they sometimes frame the pictures to look like... but I would never, Ems. You know that, don't you?"

She hesitated before nodding meekly into my chest.

"I need to hear you say it."

"I know," she murmured. "I know."

I hesitated. "And you know I just want you to be happy, don't you?"

"Yes," she sniffed.

"So if you're happy in Kerry..." I could feel my heart sink as I said it. "Well, we can figure something out. We can make this work, Ems, if that's what you want."

"I want—" her breath hitched. She pushed herself up to look me in the eyes and swallowed before trying again. "I want you to wait for me, until I get back... if you're still willing."

"I'll always wait for you, Ems. I meant what I said." I paused, allowing us both to go back into our memories of all the things said—and left unsaid—the night before she left. "Every word."

With a heavy sigh, Emma turned to rest her head against my shoulder. "I know."