My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 35

But all she got in return was a deeper, more crushing sense of disappointment.

Emily Blair managed a weary, hollow smile as tears finally slipped from her eyes, tracing down her cheeks before falling to the floor.

“Andrew Lane, I suppose you’re right. I was wrong—I never should have expected anything from you.”

Andrew’s brow furrowed, a flicker of something in his eyes.

Emily stepped back, regaining her composure, her face now a mask of calm.

“If what you want is an apology, then I’ll apologize.”

She bent forward, her voice clear and steady, each word ringing with finality.

“Andrew Lane, I apologize to you again. I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”

Straightening up, she met his gaze. Without hesitation, she raised her hand and slapped herself sharply across the face.

The hospital hallway was deserted and silent; the sound of her slap echoed, crisp and unmistakable.

Andrew’s expression didn’t change, his dark eyes fixed on her face.

Emily gave a brittle laugh. “Your heart aches for Isabella Austin? Fine. That slap—consider it my debt repaid to her.”

“All I ask is that, from now on, we go our separate ways. You walk your path, I’ll walk mine. We’ll have nothing to do with each other.”

Andrew still said nothing.

Assuming her self-punishment hadn’t satisfied him, Emily lifted her hand again. “Is that not enough, Andrew Lane? Do you need me to hit myself again?”

She started to strike her own face once more—but this time, before her palm could land, Andrew’s hand shot out and caught her wrist.

His voice was low, warning. “Emily Blair.”

She stared back at him, her eyes cold and empty. “Are you satisfied now? Will you let me go?”

Andrew only tightened his brow, silent.

She remembered it shattering into pieces back at school. She had assumed it was lost forever.

Yet here it was, carefully restored and returned to her. Though it had been badly broken, the repairs were so fine they were barely visible.

Emily gripped the ring tightly, feeling some of her recent hurts melt away, soothed by the return of this small, mended treasure.

It must have been Emma George who took it to be fixed.

She said offhandedly, “My mother must have brought it back.”

The housekeeper blinked, looking uncertain. “I suppose so?”

But Emma hadn’t come home today; only Andrew Lane had.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Emily was already gone, and she decided not to press it.

After all, it didn’t really matter.