Emma slipped her shirt back on over the gown and pulled her trousers underneath, dragging the zip downwards until the dress slid to the floor in a heap. She quickly fastened her trouser button, then sat out on the porch, clearly waiting for someone.
A car slowed to a stop in front of the house, and before it fully rolled to a halt, Mandy was already hopping out of the backseat. She hurried down the lawn toward Emma.
"How is it?" Emma asked the second Mandy reached her.
"The photos are perfect," Mandy grinned, still catching her breath.
"I've got Louboutins," Emma said with a playful smirk, sticking out her tongue as she gave a little spin on the porch.
"Girl I saw!" Mandy squealed, rushing up the steps. She bent down to pick up one of the shoes, switching on her phone flashlight like an investigator. She tilted it, inspecting the sole closely.
The bright red lacquer glistened under the light, showing off the perfectly engraved Christian Louboutin logo, the MADE IN ITALY stamp, and the size number.
"This has to be authentic, right?" Mandy asked, wide-eyed.
Emma only shrugged, too smug to even answer.
"He got me dresses too. From Maison LaVere. Two of them," she added casually.
"You looked beautiful," Mandy said sincerely, glancing up at her friend.
Emma rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah."
"Did you order?" Emma asked suddenly.
"Girl, with what money?" Mandy laughed. "I told the attendant I was waiting on my date." She laughed again, a little corky snort at the end, and Emma cracked up with her.
"Here, take the clothes with you," Emma said, grabbing both shopping bags and shoving them into Mandy's hands.
"I'll go in first, then I'll come over to yours," she added.
"Bet," Mandy said, hugging the bags to her chest before skipping across the lawn toward her own building.
Emma walked into the living room, only to find her parents sitting there with Mandy's parents. This was basically a normal weekend ritual, where their parents watched something together if everyone was less busy.
"Mandy just went home," Emma said quickly, her eyes darting to Mrs. Peterson.
"And where exactly did you both go?" her mom asked, narrowing her eyes.
Emma glanced back at Mandy's mom and put on her best innocent face. "Well... I'll just be over at your place, Mrs. Peterson."
It was past six on Sunday evening, and that was the next day. Emma had been staring at her phone all day, waiting for Jayden's text. Their last conversation ended when he told her he was home the previous night, and even after she sent him a goodnight text, he never replied.
When she woke up around eight that morning, she expected something, anything from him. But the hours rolled by, and all she had were her own anxious messages that had filled his chat. Still no reply.
Now, sitting cross-legged on Mandy's bed, she kept refreshing her screen. And then her phone rang.
Emma's heart leaped when she saw the caller ID flash across the screen: "Footballer Crush." She still hadn't changed the name.
"It's Jayden," Emma said, wide-eyed.
"Let it ring out," Mandy muttered
And so she did. But then it rang again. And again. By the fourth call, Emma frowned. "Girl, he's not stopping."
When his name lit up for the sixth time, Mandy shoved the phone closer. "Pick up. And put it on speaker."
Emma exhaled sharply before answering.
"Hey," she said flatly.
"What the fuck am I looking at on my screens?" Jayden's voice thundered through, ignoring her greeting.
"Well, you tell me," Emma shot back, biting her nail nervously.
"This is crazy." He sounded pissed, frustrated. "Look at the last photo in the blog you sent me."
Emma scrolled quickly through the article. Her breath caught.
"Whoever took that picture sat across from us," Jayden growled.
The photo showed that moment, the kiss in the restaurant. Thankfully, Emma's face was turned and half-covered by his hand. His own wasn't fully clear either, just the sharp cut of his jawline, but anyone who knew him would know. And Jayden was the type of man the world could recognize from a silhouette.
"I'm calling the restaurant," he barked. "They'll have cameras. I'll find out which bastard took that photo."
"Do you have to?" she asked softly.
"I value my privacy," he snapped. "And I'm not letting this slide. I'll get someone to track who started this shit. The post will be gone before the night ends."
Emma sighed. "Jayden, it's already everywhere. Gist blogs, entertainment pages... you're trending."
"I'm definitely suing."
"But why? My face isn't even in it. And honestly, it's more popularity for you. People already worship you already and you're just hotter news right now."
There was silence for a beat before Jayden asked suddenly, voice lower now, "Do you know why I take you to those expensive spots, Emma?"
She frowned. "Why?"
"Because the people there are... different. Important. Nobody there would sneak a photo, they'd rather walk up and ask for one. And that's because they can afford the kind of world I live in."
Emma swallowed. "So it's not because you think I deserve it?"
"You do, Emma. You do." He hesitated. "But..."
"And that's why you hide from my camera too, huh? Because you're scared the world might find out about us?"
"Scared?" Jayden scoffed. "It's not like I'm doing anything illegal."
Emma's chest tightened at that. She looked away, voice dropping. "Why are you just replying to my texts now? At past six?"
There was a pause on the line. Then Jayden sighed. "Emma, I've been on air since six a.m. I only just landed and got to my suite."
"On air?" She blinked, confused.
"Something came up. I had to leave earlier than planned this morning."
"But... you said Wednesday," she whispered.
"I'm sorry, baby."
"Yeah. Goodbye." Her voice cracked.
"Emma, hold on," he rushed. A long silence, then his voice softened. "It's not that I don't want people knowing about us. I just... I don't think you're ready for what comes with it. The spotlight, the noise, the hate. I don't want to throw you into that."
"Try me," she said firmly, thumb hovering over the hang-up button.
There was a pause. His breath came through the line. "I love you, okay?"
Emma froze.
It was the first time he had ever said those words aloud. Sure, he'd typed them in texts before, mostly when she pushed him... but this? Hearing it raw from his mouth? It made her chest tighten.
She didn't answer. Instead, she ended the call. Then she sat there, phone in her lap, staring blankly at the wall.
Her mind spun. He said it. Finally. But why did it feel so heavy?