Emma's brother had asked her recently if things with Sebastian were serious.
After a moment's thought, she had replied, "Of course."
He had then asked, "Why Sebastian?"
She had considered that question carefully, too. "Because when I'm with him, I'm happy."
Only then did her brother give his approval. He'd told her, "Emmie, if you had said it was because he's good to you, I would have advised you against it. I want you to live your life for your own happiness, always. Our family doesn't need you to be anything but happy. Do what makes you happy."
She had playfully asked, "And what if one day I'm not happy anymore?"
"Then you come home," he'd said. "Your brother will always be here for you."
Emma felt that after surviving her marriage to Theodore Whitman, she could weather anything. The twelve brightest years of her life, from sixteen until now, had been a period of total devotion that left her completely shattered. But she was healing, piece by piece. What else could possibly break her now?
The following Sunday, rehearsal was scheduled for the morning, with physical therapy in the afternoon. The nurses had told her it was Dr. Crimson's birthday, and they had all chipped in for a surprise cake.
When Emma finished her session, the cake still hadn't arrived.


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