My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 755

Emily didn’t say a word, just watched as Tristan rolled the small dining table over and carefully unpacked the insulated lunchbox, arranging its contents neatly in front of her. He unwrapped the disposable cutlery and handed her a fork.

The food looked and smelled wonderful, but Emily’s appetite was gone.

She held the fork in her hand, brow furrowed, about to speak, but Tristan cut her off. “Eat first. We’ll talk after.”

She glanced up at him. “Did you already eat?”

Tristan gave a short nod, offering no further explanation. He slid his hands into his pockets and crossed his legs, watching her with a calm, unreadable expression.

Emily lowered her head and began to eat, taking her time with every bite.

Emma, who knew exactly how much Emily could manage, hadn’t packed large portions. Even so, it was a little too much; Emily had to force herself to finish every last bit from the lunchbox.

When she was done, Tristan silently gathered up the containers and handed her a wet wipe to clean her hands and mouth.

Once everything was tidied away, Tristan looked at her, posture shifting as if preparing for an interrogation. “Alright,” he said, “tell me—what are you and Alex planning?”

Tristan had always been perceptive, so Emily knew there was no use dodging. She sighed and answered truthfully, “Alex agreed to arrange a meeting with Matthew Ross for me.”

“And then?” His voice was so measured it made Emily’s chest tighten.

“That’s it,” she replied, voice quiet. “That’s all. I can’t even leave the hospital yet, so there’s nothing else I could possibly do.”

“You know you can’t do anything in your condition,” Tristan said quietly.

He leaned forward, fixing his eyes on hers, voice soft but insistent. “Do you remember how you ended up in the hospital? Aren’t you afraid it might happen again? Another car accident?”

Emily pressed her lips together, her voice just above a whisper. “Tristan, I know you’re worried about me. But I have to get to the bottom of this.”

“I can help you,” Tristan said, resolute.

“I know you mean well,” she said, “but there are some things I have to do myself. I need to.”

“What happened with Isabella means everything to me. I want to be the one to uncover the truth. I want to be the one who brings her to justice. Can you understand that?”

The faint smile disappeared from Tristan’s lips, his expression shadowed. “No. I don’t.”

Emily stared at him for a moment, then looked away, her hands twisting the bedsheet into wrinkles. “Tristan, I hope you can understand. We’ve known each other for five years.”

Some things weighed on her heart, things she couldn’t share with anyone.

Not even with someone she trusted as much as Tristan.

The events of her past life—that was a boundary no one else could cross.