Emma's Secret: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

Daisy lay down across Megan’s toes and whined for attention.
    “You miss him, don’t you?”
    Emma nodded again.
    Megan lifted her daughter’s face so that she could look into her eyes. Teardrops hung from her long eyelashes.
    “Would you like some fairy lights in your room? I think we have some extra ones in the basement. Maybe you could help me hang them up?”
    Emma’s eyes widened before a smile stretched across her face. Megan cherished the moment Emma wrapped her arms around her. Every gesture, every smile, every hug would never be taken for granted. Never again.
    “It must be hard to have two names, isn’t it?” Megan kept the tone of her voice light.
    Emma’s lips tightened and her brows knotted together for a brief moment before she shook her head.
    “No? Are you sure?”
    A frantic look crept into her little girl’s face. Her eyes widened, her nose flared, and a tiny tremor swept through her body. “My name is Emma.”
    Daisy stood up and barked. Emma’s panic was palpable, and Megan hated herself for doing this to her little girl.
    “It’s okay, honey. Your name is Emma. But sometimes it can be Emmie too.” She paused for a few seconds. “Right?”
    Emma’s arms unwound themselves from around Megan’s body. Her shoulders tensed under Megan’s touch.
    “Only to Papa,” Emma whispered.
    Megan swallowed. Papa. Of course. He had a piece of Emma’s heart, and there was nothing Megan could do about it. No matter how hard she tried.
    “Did you know, when you were just a baby, I used to call you Emmie?”
    “You did?”
    Megan nodded. “Late at night, when I would hold you close to my heart and rock you to sleep, I would call you Emmie and kiss your forehead.” She held her breath as her daughter snuggled close to her again. “A special girl can have as many special names as she wants, just as long as she remembers one thing.”
    “What?” Emma whispered.
    “That you’ll always be mine.” She kissed the soft skin of Emma’s forehead, wishing for time to stand still.
    “Always,” Emma said.
    Megan tightened her hold. “Always.”

    Megan rinsed one last dish from dinner before placing it in the dishwasher. Peter sat at the kitchen table looking through the latest stack of grocery flyers, apparently oblivious to her at the moment.
    Nerves made Megan’s body feel like it was strung on a taut wire. Her chest was tight, and it hurt to take deep breaths. Since her talk with Emma, she’d been fighting against the doubts that kept creeping into her heart.
    “All right, spill.” Peter pushed his chair back, scraping the floor at the same time. Megan winced. She had meant to replace the little pads of fabric beneath the chair legs after washing them. They were probably still in the dryer from yesterday.
    “What do you mean?” She wiped her hands on the towel hanging from the oven handle.
    The look on Peter’s face told her he knew something was wrong.
    “You banged the dishwasher door shut, almost broke a glass earlier in the sink, and you’ve barely said two words since the kids went outside to play after dinner.”
    Megan turned her back, filled two mugs with coffee, and went to the table. She handed Peter his mug, reached for one of the grocery flyers, and prayed to God that Peter didn’t notice that her hand shook.
    “You’re wound up as tight as my old yo-yo. What’s going on?”
    “I didn’t think you’d be home so early tonight. Laurie had suggested going to the late show, but I told her you wouldn’t be home.” She wrapped her fingers around the mug.
    “Well, I’m home.”
    She caught the slight shrug of his shoulders and knew it really didn’t matter to him if she went out or not.
    “I told her we’d go out tomorrow night instead. Will you be home?”
    Peter tossed a flyer to the side and opened another one.
    “Peter?” She glanced at what he was looking at. Golf clubs. Go figure.
    “If you need me to be home early, all you have to do is ask. You know that.”