Chapter Text
Part 1
Chapter 1
The worst thing about Thursdays was the grocery store. She had this argument with herself every Thursday. Not Monday, when everyone was recovering from the weekend. Not Tuesday, when the aisles were mostly empty. Not Wednesday, when she could still convince herself she had enough food left in the refrigerator.
Thursday.
Thursday was when she inevitably discovered she was out of something important.
Milk.
Bread.
Coffee.
Today, it was eggs. Or at least she thought it was eggs.
She stood in front of the refrigerated section, staring through the glass doors with a basket hanging from one arm. Did she have eggs? She pictured the inside of her refrigerator.
Orange juice.
Takeout containers.
Half a block of cheese.
A bottle of ketchup she should probably throw away.
Eggs? Maybe.
The uncertainty irritated her. She grabbed a carton anyway.
“Smart choice.” The voice came from beside her. She glanced over. A man stood there holding two gallons of milk.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Pale.
Ridiculously handsome.
The kind of handsome that felt almost unfair. He smiled. Not flirtatiously. Just warmly. Like they were already in a conversation. She looked down at the carton in her hand.
“They could be expired.”
“They’re not.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I checked.”
“You checked every carton of eggs in the store?”
“I had time.”
His expression remained perfectly serious. She laughed. A real laugh. Unexpected. The man’s grin widened. “There it is.”
“There’s what?”
“Proof I said something funny.”
She rolled her eyes. He offered his hand.
“I’m Emmett.”
She hesitated only for a second before taking it. His hand was cold. Strangely cold, she noticed, then immediately forgot about it. People had cold hands. That wasn’t necessarily a crime.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said.
“It is.”
The certainty in his voice made her blink. He wasn’t being arrogant. He genuinely seemed pleased. As though running into her had improved his day. The realization was oddly flattering.
A few minutes later, they were still talking. She wasn’t entirely sure how. The conversation flowed too easily.
Coffee.
Movies.
Terrible landlords.
The weather.
The absurd price of groceries.
By the time she finally looked at her phone, nearly twenty minutes had passed.
“Oh, no.”
“What?”
“I was supposed to be home already. I’m late.”
He glanced towards the windows. “It’s dangerous.”
“What is?”
“Being late.”
She laughed again. “There are people out there with actual problems.”
“Being late is an actual problem.”
“No, it isn’t.”
He placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “I’ve never been so cruelly dismissed.”
She shook her head. “Goodbye Emmett.”
His smile softened.
“Can I see you again?”
The question should have felt sudden, It didn’t. She surprised herself by smiling back. “Maybe.”
“That’s not a no.”
“No.”
Excellent.”
She started towards the checkout lanes. After several steps, she glanced back. He was still
standing there. Watching her go. His expression unreadable. For a moment she felt a strange flutter in her chest. Then she looked away. Outside, rain had begun to fall. The parking lot shimmered beneath the streetlights. She loaded groceries into her trunk and drove home. By the time she reached her apartment, she had almost forgotten about him.
Almost.
Three hundred miles away, a blonde woman sat perfectly still in a room with soft yellow walls. She heard footsteps before they reached the door. The scent had arrived first. Then Emmett.
He entered smiling.
The smile alone told her everything. For one suspended moment neither of them spoke. Rosalie rose slowly from her chair.
“Well?”
Emmett’s smiled widened.
“It went well.”
A strange light appeared in Rosalie’s eyes.
Hope.
Dangerous hope. The kind that hurt.
“Did you like her?” Rosalie asked. The question was casual. Too casual. Emmett noticed.
“She’s nice.”
Rosalie looked away for a moment, a long moment where she said nothing. Then she smiled. And somehow, that smile felt colder than any expression she had worn all day.
“Good,” she said softly.
“That’s good.”