Breakfast has never been this awkward. Miles stole another glance at his fiancée as she pushed her food around her plate.

Maybe they should have gone out for breakfast like she suggested but Miles had surprised her with room service by the time she got out of the shower. He dreaded going down to the restaurant —lest they bumped into his nightmare.

But this was torture. He would rather face Chanel Preston.

“I'm sorry, did you want something else?” Miles set down his cutlery. “We can go out for breakfast if you don't-”

Emery gave a little shake of her head. “No. This is actually good. I just…” She sighed. “I don't have much of an appetite this morning.”

Miles nodded. She took a sip of her cranberry juice and set the glass down. Her phone's screen lit up with what sounded like a notification. More beeps followed and Miles noticed how stiff she got with every sound.

Miles couldn't help but ask, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah…” She forced another smile. “It's just, Nat.”

She had been checking her phone like every second since she sat down for breakfast so of course, he knew there was more going on with her than allergies. But like he had promised, until she was ready to open up to him, he would not push her.

“Emery?” She met his gaze. “You can call Nat.” He motioned to the balcony which was free of any audience. Clearly she was avoiding Nat's messages because he was there.

The phone beeped again. She looked between him and the phone and then back at him as if she was debating on a life altering choice. She seemed to come to a decision when she muted the phone and placed it back on the table.

“I will call her back.” She went back to her breakfast.

For someone who didn't have much of an appetite, that notification seemed to trigger her hunger hormones as she scooped a fork full of eggs. Then another. Talk of stress eating. Miles stopped staring at her and went back to his breakfast.

They ate in silence for a few minutes until she spoke again. “So… I saw your clothes in the guest bathroom hamper when I was in there earlier.”

Miles swallowed his food so fast, he almost choked on a grape. He reached out for his orange juice and took a long sip to push it down.

“Yeah…” Miles cleared his throat. “You were asleep when I got back yesterday and I didn't want to wake you so I showered there instead.” He said, his tone leveled.

“Oh…” She nodded. “So how was the meeting with Lewis?”

An alarm went off somewhere in Miles' head but he couldn't quite fathom why her question would trigger any alarm. Obviously she was trying to change the topic or make conversation for god’ sake.

“Lewis?” Miles asked, perplexed.

“Yeah.” She dropped her napkin back on her lap. “You said you were meeting him last night?”

That was when it dawned on him. “It was fine.”

Miles realized he had spoken too soon when her fork stopped midair at his response. She looked up at him—actually met his gaze for the first time that morning.

“That's odd.” She said, her gaze steady.

There was that alarm again but Miles went along. “What is?”

She set her fork down. “The fact that you were having a meeting with Lewis who was here looking for you half an hour after you were gone?”

Miles set his cutlery down as well. For a second there, they stared at each other. She knew something. But as to what she knew or how much she knew, Miles wasn't about to tip his hand.

“We met later.” Miles countered, his tone as steady as her gaze.

“Of course,” She said with a scoff.

Miles bristled at her condescending tone. “Is there something you want to say to me?”

“Is there something I should know?” She retorted.

Miles' nose flared. “What exactly are you accusing me of, Emery?”

She stared at him in utter disbelief. “I'm not accusing you of anything-”

“Then cut out the nagging, Emery. It's unbecoming.” He deadpanned.

Emery only stared hard at him. “Unbelievable.”

Miles leaned forward when he said, “Since you're so believable, perhaps you'd also like to share with me what those messages and bathroom incident are about?”

She blanched at the comment. “Excuse me?” Her phone lit up again on cue.

“Yeah those.” Miles motioned to her phone. “I'm sure they have nothing to do with Nicholas McLean.”

“Oh don't make this about me and Nicholas.” She seethed. “You lied…”

“Don't we all?” Miles countered.

“You know what?” She slammed her napkin on the table and pushed out of her seat. “I think I'm going to lie down cause all this…” her hands flail about. “Is making me sick.” She snatched her phone and stormed out of the kitchen.

Miles' jaws loosened as he exhaled deeply. Fuck. He swore when the door to the bedroom slammed shut. He stood up just as his phone also rang.

Miles' racing heart came to a halt when he saw the caller ID. Well. Maybe not every part of his life was totally fucked.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

Emery leaned against the bedroom door, her chest heaving up and down with every deep breath she took. This was not her. She was not some hysterical girl who raises her voice or slams doors when upset.

But that lying hypocrite of a fiancé only seemed to bring out the worst in her. Emery groaned inward.

She practically did everything right so why the hell did she keep attracting the likes of Miles Dekker and Nicholas McLean?

Nicholas. The thought jolted Emery out of her frenzy. Quickly, she unlocked her phone and went straight to her message.

Her heart resumed that harsh thump when she saw the missed calls and texts from Natalia. It was too much—she couldn't even read anything in there. Dammit.

She called Natalia instead. “Talia?”

‘Hey, I've been calling you.’

“Sorry. Did you see him? What happened? Is he OK?” Emery bombarded her in one breath. The line went quiet. “Nat?”

‘Nicholas is OK.’

Emery let out a breath but something about the way Natalia sighed over her own response didn't sit right with her.

“OK… but why wasn't he answering me? What happened?”

‘He's fine. I got there in time. The doctor said he's going to be fine-’

“Wait, wait, slow down. What do you mean by you got there in time?”

‘Em…’

“Nat, just tell me what happened!” Emery cried out. “Tell me.” She pleaded.

‘He uh… he was hurt when I found him.’

Both lines went quiet for an excruciating minute.

‘Em?’

“He hurt himself?” Emery questioned, her heart pounding. 

‘Em, he's going to be fine.’

If anything, Natalia's reply only confirmed her fears.

“He hurt himself.” Emery repeated as she paced the bedroom. “He said he was going to do it if I left and I thought he was joking but he…”

‘Emery this is not your fault. You hear me? This is not on you.’

Emery nodded even though Natalia couldn't see her. Natalia kept consoling her but all she could hear was Nicholas' words.

‘I swear I'll kill myself if you leave me for that imbecile and it will all be on your conscience!’

‘Emery?’

“He hurt himself, Nat.” Emery mumbled, holding onto her chest as if to steady her erratic heartbeats.

‘Emery, listen to me. He is okay.’ Natalia stressed.

“He is okay.” Emery repeated to herself.

‘Yes. I gotta go see Chris. I'll call you back okay?’ The line went dead.

Emery lowered herself onto a corner of the couch. She sat there for what felt like hours, her conversation with Natalia playing over and over in her head.

At some point she might have fallen asleep because she woke up on the couch with a blanket draped over her. Miles. Emery yawned as she sat upright. At least her head felt a bit lighter.

She looked around for her phone and found it lying on the floor by the couch. It was almost five in the evening? How long has she been asleep? She checked her phone, hoping for a call or message from Natalia.

But the only messages received were from her Aunt and Christopher's nurse. Christopher. Emery cursed herself. She hadn't even asked about him when she spoke to Natalia that morning. She replied to her messages and sent Natalia one, asking for more updates.

Emery leaned against the arm of the couch as she debated on whether to call him or not. But before she could even play with that thought, she heard what sounded like the banging of utensils from outside.

What the hell was he up to now? Emery rolled her eyes.

Another bang of silverware and stream of cusses had her rushing out the bedroom door. The burnt smell of bacon and cheese assaulted her when she stepped out. The smoke detectors were beeping and for a second there, Emery thought there was a fire.

The hell? Emery's unspoken question was answered a second later when the culprit rushed out of the Kitchen, almost crashing into her.

“Hey.” He said casually as if half of his face was not covered in smoke.

For a moment Emery was stunned into silence at the sight of him. He was naked. Well not really but still—he was in a vest covered with an apron that could barely hold those abs and biceps together. The most naked she had seen him.

Emery swallowed hard. “What's… going on?” She jumbled when she managed to look away.

“A little cooking disaster, I dare to say.” He said lightly.

He bypassed her to part the drapes in the sitting area. Emery followed suit and opened the balcony doors to allow in some fresh air. The air wasn't that stale inside but the smell of burnt vegetables lingered.

“You were cooking?” Emery asked when she went back to the kitchen.

“You won't call it cooking if you see the by-product,” He actually sounded disappointed.

Emery would have noticed the unusual pink on his cheeks if she wasn't ogling those ripped muscles. They were practically in front of her. And good lord—not now. Emery looked away, chastising herself for even letting her mind stray there.

“You could have called room service if you were that hungry.” She pointed to the island full of a variety of fruits and vegetables.

Just what was he planning on cooking? A buffet?

“I know.” He huffed. “Obviously I'm no expert in the kitchen but I thought…”

Emery met his gaze briefly. He thought what?

“I was trying to make up for this morning okay?” Miles added as if knowing her train of thought.

Emery cleared her throat to stifle a smile. “By burning the kitchen I see.” She mumbled under her breath as she bypassed him.

“I heard that.” He said lightly. He reached over to grab his phone on the island.

Emery nearly dropped her phone when his bare arm brushed against hers. It was the hairs on his arm that tickled her. She was that ticklish but that mild-musky scent of his didn't help either. No way. Emery stepped out of the way.

It was definitely getting to that time of the month because there was no way in hell she was getting hot and bothered by the man who was the cause of half of her problems—certainly not after the day she had.

“Do you want to grab dinner?” He took the apron off and draped it on the counter. “Emery?” He called when she didn't answer.

“I'm good.” She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and took a long sip as if that would quench whatever the hell that heat seeping into her body was. The kitchen was just hot after his cooking disaster.

He nodded. She caught that solemn look again before he turned to leave the kitchen, probably to shower.

Emery let out a breath once he was out of sight. Out of sight out of mind right? Not in her case. As much as she tried to erase the image of his damn muscles out of her mind, she just could not. Definitely that time of the month.

Emery grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the island and slumped onto one of the bar stools to enjoy her dinner in peace.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

Yesterday hadn't gone as planned — it was practically a disaster but Miles was not a quitter. He wasn't going back to the kitchen to attempt another cooking though. But he had something far more special planned for today.

Call it guilt but he wanted to make up for not just their disastrous breakfast yesterday. But for everything else.

She left early for the gym so Miles took the opportunity to call their hosts to make sure all the tours he had booked were in order. He then showered and got ready.

All that was left was for the lady in question to get back. Speaking of the devil, Miles heard the front door open. He made to get up from the lounge when he heard her footsteps approaching but thought better of it and relaxed back in his seat.

He had taken the couch yesterday after everything and they hadn't spoken much, if at all since last night —so why was he in a hurry to see her?

From the balcony, Miles could see her ambling in the kitchen. Even in just sweaty sports wear,  she still managed to stir up all kinds of feelings.

Miles didn't look away fast enough as she met his gaze when she turned away from the fridge. Great. She saw him ogling her. After yesterday, they were walking on more than eggshells so one can imagine his awkwardness when he was caught staring at her.

She shut the fridge and turned away. She mouthed what sounded like a hi when she walked by to their bedroom. Miles only sighed.

He was still savoring the last bits of morning breeze when he heard what sounded like his name. Miles sat upright but heard nothing. Was he fucking hearing her voice now?

“Miles?” Okay so he wasn't going crazy. Miles hurried inside when she called again.

“Emery?” He called back tentatively.

“Yeah…” The sheepish response came from the bathroom this time.

Miles walked over to the closed door. “What's wrong?”

She was quiet for a while before she said, “There are no towels in here.”

Miles snickered before he could stop himself. Oh, Karma.

“That is not funny. I could have sworn there were towels in here when we arrived.”

“Room service brought some this morning but I was showering so I told them to leave it in the guest bathroom.”

“Well?”

“Well what?” Miles asked innocently, smiling from ear to ear.

“I need a towel, Miles.” She stressed.

Miles bit his inner cheeks to stop himself from laughing when he said, “So ask me to get you a towel, Emery.”

Miles heard her curse which was a first but he was enjoying this moment too much to care. She hadn't spoken to him for more than eight hours and had done her best to avoid him so you would forgive him if he was making use of this rare chance to get her to talk to him.

“Miles?” She practically groaned his name.

“Yes, Emery?” Miles' smile only got bigger.

“Can you get me a towel? Please?”

Even that please sounded like an insult but Miles couldn't care less.

“Of course, Emery. Be right back.” Miles left the bedroom to get her some towels.

He heard all the swore words till he was out of earshot but he enjoyed every bit of it. He came back seconds later with the towels and a robe.

Miles leaned against the door frame and said, “I have the towels here. Do you want me to bring them-”

“No!”

Miles snickered. “I'm sorry. Here…” The door creaked open just a fraction. “Are you really naked?” He teased one last time. 

“I'm dressed for a ball. Just hand over the damn thing.” She poked her head out the door and snatched the towels from him. “Perv.” She slammed the door in his face, almost nipping his hand with it.

Miles laughed. It'd been a while since he laughed this hard. “You are really making my day, Em.”

“I'm glad one of us is having fun.” She called from behind the door.

That seemed to bring Miles down from his high a notch. But he got her mood situation handled with the surprise he had in store for her.

“Are we still meeting your publicist this morning?” She asked.

“She rescheduled. We'll meet her later.” Miles cleared his throat as if preparing himself for what he was about to say next.

“So I was thinking we'd grab some breakfast and take a look around?” He said, his tone skeptical.

The silence that followed his question was deafening. Miles turned to leave.

“Yeah, sure.”

Miles turned back to the bathroom door. “Really?” He blurted. He did not expect that response. Not after yesterday.

“I'm hungry and I don't trust you not to burn the hotel down so yeah.”

Yes. Miles fist bumped.

The insult wasn't lost on him but that was still a win. He slumped onto the bed and stretched his limbs. Sleeping on the couch last night did a number on his already cramp muscles. He really needed a run.

“Wear something less nunnish if you don't want to get a heat stroke,” Miles called from the bed.

“I don't dress like a nun.” She stepped out of the bathroom in the robe and shut the door after her. “And nunnish isn't a word,” She sassed.

“I'm aware, professor of linguistics.” Miles' tried to mimic her cheeky tone but failed miserably.

She only shook her head at his antics and strolled into the walk-in closet. But Miles caught her smile when she passed by. One point for him.

She took her precious time to doll up and Miles made use of the alone time to check up on his niece and grandmother. The HOPE dinner was a success but his absence at the gala seems to breed more speculation than he had hoped for.

All thanks to his mother who seems to hate him but can't stand him not being by her side. She probably had a private investigator trailing after him. If she hadn't already paid her goddaughter Chanel Preston to do that.

Miles gave a low whistle when Emery finally emerged from the closet. That catcall earned him an eye roll but he was too busy drooling to be bothered.

“Guess this is to your liking then?” She huffed.

“Oh yeah.” Miles shamelessly gave her a once over. That yellow mid-thigh sundress only made her glow more but paired with those woven pearl wedges, now that was the real deal.

“Can we go now? I'm starving.” She slid her sunglasses on her head, pushing back on her hair which was styled down into a low bun.

Miles hopped off the bed. “There's a local diner just a street across from the hotel. They have the best of everything.”

“Lead the way then.” She held the bedroom door open for him.

Miles feigned surprise. “You know, you're very charming when you're not brooding.”

“Said the pot to the kettle.” She shut the door after them.

Miles smiled at her comeback. He loved this dynamic. He fell into step with her as they walked out of the Marina side by side. He was itching to compliment her but he had embarrassed her enough, and resorted to just admiring her from afar.

Twelve months with Emery Delado didn't seem like a death sentence all of a sudden.

With both immersed in their own daydream as they strode out of the hotel, the two didn't see the black sedan with tinted glasses packed across the road or the guy standing behind it and taking pictures of them.