Listed: Volume IV (2 page)

“You
look great, Laura,” Emily said, resolutely trying to be nice, to
feel
nice. “I love your hair like that.”

“Thanks.”
Laura brought up a hand to brush down her dark waves. “You look good too.
Different, somehow.”

 “Oh,
well, I’m dying, you know, so that probably explains it.”

When
she felt Paul stiffen beside her, she realized she’d let her insecurity push
her into the defensive irony that had been habitual when she was younger.
“Sorry,” she said hurriedly, giving Laura a sincerely apologetic smile. “I’m
sorry. Thanks for the compliment. I shouldn’t be so prickly.”

Laura’s
eyes were full of pity as she smiled back. “That’s okay. I’m so sorry
about…about…”

“I
know,” Emily interrupted, so Laura wouldn’t have to finish the statement.
“Thank you.”

She
didn’t want Laura’s pity. She didn’t want anyone’s pity, but she knew it was
unavoidable. Laura wasn’t trying to be patronizing or superior.

It
was just that Laura had always been the epitome of the princess, the blessed
life that Emily had never possessed, and it was hard to fight those feelings
even now.

Emily
smiled up at Paul as Laura opened the front door. Paul didn’t smile back, but
his eyes were soft on her face, and he reached over to brush a strand of hair
out of her face.

When
Emily looked back, she saw that Laura, Chris, and Mrs. Mason—the latter two had
come to greet them at the door—were all staring at her and Paul.

Emily
felt strangely embarrassed. She used to daydream about somehow landing a
fantastic man and taking him to a party where she could show off to all her
friends. Paul was better in every way than the men she used to dream of, but
she didn’t have any desire to show him off tonight. In fact, she’d rather no
one had witnessed the little moment they’d shared just now. It had felt
private. Just between her and Paul. It seemed like no one else would really
understand.

She
usually wasn’t the kind of person who got embarrassed at the drop of a hat, but
she felt suddenly hot as she smiled at Chris and Mrs. Mason in greeting.

It
was even hotter in the house.

*
* *

Emily looked around for
Paul but couldn’t find him.

He’d
been talking to Laura for a long time—far longer than Emily was comfortable
with—but their conversation had broken up a few minutes ago.

The
party seemed to be going pretty well. Chris had been friendly and sympathetic,
and she felt better about having the tension resolved between them. She was
feeling surprisingly tired, though, despite it not even being nine in the evening.
Plus, the Masons’ living room was too crowded, so Emily was overly warm.

She
wanted to find Paul. She supposed he’d been trying to give her some space to
talk to her old friends in peace, but she didn’t want space or peace. She
wanted Paul beside her. She wanted to make sure he was all right. She wanted to
make sure people were treating him right and not holding against him either his
father’s conviction or the fact that he’d testified against him.

“Hey,
Emily,” came a soft, feminine voice from behind her.

Emily
turned to see Laura approaching, carrying a cup of punch and smiling. “Hey.
Have you seen Paul?”

“I
was talking to him a few minutes ago,” Laura explained, “but I don’t know where
he is now.”

“Oh.”
Emily rubbed her hot face with her left hand, wishing she were outside where it
was cooler.

“Your
ring is gorgeous.”

Emily
stretched out her hand so Laura could better inspect her engagement ring.
“Thanks. I really like it too.”

“Paul
has good taste.”

“Yeah.”

“Are
you two…” Laura cleared her throat, as if she weren’t sure how to ask the
question. “Is it just a marriage of convenience? That’s what I was thinking,
since it happened so suddenly and everything, but then it looked like you two
were…he was kissing you and…”

“We’re
married,” Emily replied, a little coolly. “Why shouldn’t we kiss?”

“I
know. I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that I never thought the two of
you would ever…I mean, you’re not the most obvious couple, so it surprised me
that you were…”

Emily
sighed. “I know we’re not an obvious couple. But we have an understanding, and
it works for us.”

“Oh,”
Laura breathed, as if she were relieved about something. “That’s good. I mean,
it's good you two have an
understanding
.”

“What
do you mean?” Emily felt a tug of dread in her chest, although she couldn’t
exactly pinpoint why.

“I
just mean I would have been worried if you’d thought Paul was in love with you.
I mean, not long ago, he was really into....” She trailed off as if she were
embarrassed. “I mean, he didn’t seem interested in you at all before. So it
would have been hard to swallow that he’d suddenly fallen in love out of the
blue. And it didn't seem like…But as long as you have an understanding, I’m
sure it’s fine. I’m glad he’s helping you do all the things on your list.”

Laura’s
eyes were open and sincere, and Emily could tell she was genuinely concerned
and trying to help. But, as she processed what the other woman had said, it
felt like Emily’s heart had been ripped from her chest and stomped into pulp on
the ground.

Evidently,
Laura had been the one to dump Paul last year, and he’d just been talking to Laura
for a long time. Maybe she’d picked up some sort of continued interest.

Not
that Paul would do anything. Emily was absolutely positive about his commitment
and faithfulness to her.

But
she hated—she absolutely hated—the idea that Paul might be yearning for someone
else, that he’d rather be with someone other than her, even for these few
months.

She
knew he was attracted to her, and she knew he cared about her.

But
love was out of the question for them, since they didn’t have a future. He
could fall in love with someone else, though. Maybe he already had. Emily knew
now how deeply emotions ran in Paul. If he loved someone, he would love her all
the way, no holds barred.

He
was committed to Emily for these few months, but he could be biding his time to
pursue a future with someone else. The future he really wanted.

And
the thought crushed her. It just crushed her.

“Yeah,”
Emily agreed, her voice weak but with at least a semblance of normality. “He’s
been great. Will you excuse me? I need to find the restroom.”

Laura
said, “Sure,” so Emily was able to escape.

She
didn’t go to the bathroom. She slipped out of the hot, confining house and went
out to the small yard, toward the toolshed. The evening was cool, and she
breathed deeply, trying to purge herself of her silly, immature worries and
resentments.

She
couldn’t be selfish. She just couldn’t. Even if he’d wanted to, Paul could
never have a future with her. Their relationship had always been temporary, and
so—even if she
were
the kind of woman he might fall in love with—he
would never let himself do so.

She
would never want him to love her. It wouldn’t be fair. It would leave him
wounded when she died, and she couldn’t bear the thought of that.

But
it still hurt. It still hurt to think that Paul would want to be with someone
other than her. She’d thought they were happy together for the moment.

Her
eyes were filled with tears she couldn’t quite suppress, and her cheeks burned
almost painfully with emotion. Her shoulders shook a few times as she stared at
the Masons' toolshed.

She’d
always been tougher than this. She’d never been so sensitive.

Dying
was really disrupting her emotional stability.

“Emily?”

She
recognized the voice, coming from behind her, and it made her chest hurt even
more.

“Are
you all right?” Paul asked, approaching her quickly.

She
fought through the emotion in an attempt to compose her face. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Her voice didn’t come close to sounding convincing.

Paul
reached her and grabbed her upper arms in both of his hands, turning her to
face him. “Emily, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?”

She
hadn’t really been crying, but she was now. The concern in his voice and the
urgency in his eyes broke her control, and she buried her face in his shirt and
let herself cry for just a minute, releasing the coiled tension and the
bewildered confusion of so many unanswerable questions.

Paul’s
arms wrapped around her immediately, tightly. He smelled so familiar—clean,
masculine, faintly expensive. Like Paul. She breathed him in as she cried.

He
let her shake against him for a minute, and his arms never loosened. Finally,
he murmured, “Baby, please tell me what’s wrong.”

He’d
called her “baby” last night in bed. It had felt so intimate, so possessive. It
sounded that way now too, although with an entirely different resonance.

Sniffing
and trying to compose herself, she pulled her face out of his shirt. There was
a damp spot on the fabric now from where she’d been crying. “I’m fine. It’s
really not a big deal. I was just overly emotional or something, and I
overreacted.”

“Overreacted
to what?” Paul asked, an edge to his voice she rarely heard. “Did someone do
something to you?”

“No,”
she assured him, “Everyone has been really nice. It’s just…” She trailed off, self-conscious
about admitting what had so upset her. She was still way too hot, even in the
cool air, and now she was also feeling weak and kind of dizzy from the overload
of emotion.

“It’s
just what?”

Emily
sighed resignedly and gave up, since Paul wasn't likely to let this go. “I was
just talking to Laura, and it brought up some of my old issues. You know, I
always saw her as the girl all the guys wanted, the girl I could never be.”

Paul’s
eyes narrowed, and she felt his body stiffen slightly. “So you were feeling
insecure?”

“Yeah.
Everyone was into her. You were into her too, right?” She felt another hot
flash and dropped her eyes.

Paul’s
body stiffened even more. “You were feeling insecure about
me
?”

She
couldn’t meet his gaze. “It wasn’t that I thought you would do anything. I know
you wouldn’t. It was just…it was a lot like at that restaurant in New York.
Only worse, because it was with Laura. I told you it wasn’t anything serious.
It just got me going, for some reason.”

Paul
tilted her chin up so she would have to look at him. “Emily, you can’t
seriously think I’m interested in Laura?”

She
sniffed. “I know you wouldn’t do anything.”

“I
wouldn’t
want
to do anything.” Paul sounded indignant, almost angry. “How
could you even think such a thing, especially after last night?”

Emily
felt like squirming. “Well, I know under normal circumstances you never would
be with me, so why shouldn’t I think you might prefer to be with someone else?”

“Emily!”
he choked.

She
was starting to feel a little guilty at her assumptions, since Paul seemed so
absolutely outraged by the idea. It was also very comforting, that he was so
offended at the thought that he might be yearning for someone else while he was
married to her.

Feeling
like she needed to explain herself a little more, she said, “I know we—our
marriage—we’re temporary. It’s always been that way. So I know you’ll want to
and need to move on with your life after I…after I’m gone. I know I have no
right to be bothered by it, but it does bother me to think that you’d rather be
with someone else when you’re with me.” She rubbed her face. “It’s such a
strange situation to be in, knowing I’m going to die. So it messes up my normal
emotions. I’m not usually this weepy. At least, I don’t think I am. I’m sorry
if I wasn’t fair to you.”

“Emily,
there’s no one else I’d rather be with.”

The
ache in her heart suddenly burst into flutters. “Really?” she breathed, gazing
up at him.

“That's
the truth.” His eyes were intense, almost hungry, and she had no way of
understanding what the expression meant.

“Oh.
Good.” She swallowed hard. “Me either. I mean, there’s no one else I’d rather
be with than you.”

Paul
pulled her into a hug so tight he almost cracked her ribs. “Good,” he replied,
the one word muffled by her hair.

When
they pulled away, Emily felt relieved, happy, and kind of embarrassed by her
overreaction. In an attempt to move on, she asked, “So has the evening been too
bad for you?”

“No.
It’s been fine.”

She
peered up at his face. “Are you sure? Were the Masons’ nice enough to you?”

“Yes.
They were fine.”

She
wasn’t sure if he was speaking the truth, since he looked a little guarded at
the question. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and it probably wasn’t
the best time anyway.