You're not happy about this!

You’re not happy.

You’re not happy about this at all, but you can tell Emma’s made her mind up.

‘How long is a little while?’ you ask, flatly. Emma just shakes her head.

‘I don’t know. Please don’t ask me things like that right now. I’m sorry, I know it’s horrible and it’s not fair and you deserve better than this – and I wouldn’t blame you if you went straight off and found somebody else… but I just can’t deal with everything at the same time right now.’ She really is crying now, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. ‘Please tell me you understand.’

Part of you feels like shouting at her. Part of you feels like hugging her. But the rest of you, and it’s a much larger part, just feels sad.

‘I get it,’ you tell her, because, in some ways, you do. The week after your girlfriend cheated on you, you were a wreck; you wouldn’t have been ready to go out and date someone else, no way. ‘I won’t call you for a while. Maybe…’ You hesitate, the words sticking in your throat. ‘Maybe it’s best if you call me.’

Emma swallows, fresh tears trickling down her face. ‘Thank you,’ she says in a tiny voice. ‘I’m so sorry. About this, about me… about everything.’

‘I know,’ you reply, because there’s not much else you can say. ‘Go home, okay? Go get some sleep. Things’ll probably seem better in the morning.’

Emma nods, wiping her eyes. ‘Okay. Please don’t hate me too much for this. I don’t think I could bear it if you did.’

You sigh out loud, resting your hands on the steering wheel. ‘I don’t hate you, Emma. Of course I don’t hate you. I’m just sad.’

‘I know. I’m sorry.’ Emma kisses you once on the cheek, but it feels numb; nothing like the spark you usually get when she kisses you. ‘Me, too.’

She slips out of the car, and you sit there, watching her disappear through the revolving doors. Then you slide the car into gear, and drive slowly all the way home.

*

N’awhh. Don't worry, Chapter Five's coming up soon!

Also, not much sexyfun in this chapter! (Sorry about that. They can’t all be Hermiones.) As a peace offering, may I suggest you Google the words ‘emma watson red dress bafta’ at your earliest convenience, dear reader. It’s simultaneously the hottest and most inexplicable thing I’ve ever seen.

No, seriously. As far as anyone can work out, her right nipple is underneath a pastie, while her left is free as a bird.

#freethenipple #singular