Free Undertaking Love by Kat French Page B

personal life is of none of my business.’
    His markedly clipped tone told her that she’d scored a direct hit. Good, he deserved it.
    ‘Fine.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Come over after lunch tomorrow.’
    He nodded. ‘As long as your
boyfriend
can spare you.’
    Marla narrowed her eyes at his sarcasm, and had to clamp her teeth together to stop herself from sticking her tongue out.
    ‘You know what? I’m not so sure he can, actually. I guess I’ll just have to think of a really special way to make it up to him afterwards, won’t I?’
    Jonny was torn between pride and unease at quite how effective his online campaign was turning out to be. He’d posted strategic links all over the net on wedding forums, and people had responded to his battle cry with aplomb.
    Over two thousand people had signed the petition since he’d posted it on the chapel website last week, and their web stats had shot through the roof. Not to mention the messages of support that were flooding into his in-box on a daily basis – everything from well wishers to a couple of much darker, sinister offers to ‘eliminate the threat’ for them.
    He’d struck a match, and he’d started an inferno.
    And amidst all of this, he still hadn’t found time to mention it to Marla.

Chapter Nine
    Tom stared at the artisan-chocolate stand in the busy department store. Shoppers bustled around him, but he stood oblivious and racked his brain to remember Emily’s favourites.
    Because this wasn’t just a box of chocolates.
    It was an olive branch.
    Over the last week or so, something had changed. He couldn’t put his finger on it exactly, but he’d sensed a profound difference in Emily.
    A subtle detachment, and it scared him witless.
    She wasn’t waiting for him anymore.
    He felt like a prize fool, because he knew with the crystal clarity of the damned that he was just a few steps away from the most colossal fuck-up of his life. And he’d finally,
finally
realised that he didn’t want to fuck up.
    So many things he hadn’t made the time to say.
    So many occasions when he’d made the coward’s choice and run when he should have stayed with Emily and been her rock.
    He’d let himself blame her, cast her as the villain of the piece for forcing them through the barrage of tests and check ups.
    He’d allowed himself the luxury of behaving like the victim, and he was deeply, deeply ashamed.
    ‘Emily?’
    Clammy fear settled over his heart at the sight of the suitcase propped against the radiator in the hallway.
    He’d left it too late.
    Emily came through from the lounge and stood in the doorway, car keys in hand and an expression on her face that went so far beyond sadness that Tom felt his own heart crack open too. Fear paralysed him. He didn’t know whether to pull her into his arms, or if he should just step aside and let her pass.
    ‘I wrote you a letter,’ she said.
    No
. No way was this all going to end with a ‘Dear John’. ‘I don’t want to read it. Talk to me instead. Tell me.’
    Tears spilled down her cheeks, and he closed the distance between them in two paces and grabbed her hands. ‘In fact, don’t. Don’t say anything. Listen to me first. Please Em, just listen, and then go if you still want to.’
    His eyes searched her face as his thumbs rubbed back and forth over her knuckles.
    ‘I’m so sorry. I’ve been such a prick. I’m never here when you need me. I’ve deliberately missed appointments. Truth is I’m scared.’
    ‘Tom …’
    ‘I can’t make it without you.’ His voice cracked. ‘A family, kids … all that stuff would be great, Em. But if we never get lucky enough, then it just means that I can be selfish and keep you to myself forever.’
    He hauled her into his arms, not sure where her tears ended and his own began.
    ‘We aren’t defined by whether or not we have children, Emily. We are so much better than that. Aren’t we?’ He held her at arms length and studied her face. ‘We’ve let this