Blurred Lines: A Reverse Harem, Dad's Best Friends Romance (The Why Choose Haremland)

30. Caeleb

The afternoon sun casts a golden glow over the Emberton farmers market, the air buzzing with the cheerful hum of weekend shoppers. I weave through the stalls, the scent of fresh bread and blooming lavender a comforting balm after a restless night. It was foolish, really, to check my phone every other hour hoping for that text from Emily, the one that would explain everything.

Then I see her.

Im almost sure it must be a mistake. She wouldnt come back here, not after leaving like she did.

Would she?

Theres really no mistaking her, or the way she smiles at a vendor selling plump peaches. My heart thuds a frantic beat against my ribs. Emily. Back in Emberton, as if nothing happened, as if she hadnt shattered our world with her sudden departure.

A wave of anger threatens to overtake me, followed by a desperate flicker of hope. Maybe shes here to explain. But why didnt she call? Text? My feet propel me forward before I can talk myself out of it, a puppet strung along by invisible cords of unresolved feelings.

She turns, her eyes widening in surprise when they land on me. Caeleb? What—what are you doing here?

I live here, remember? I manage, my voice rougher than I intended. What about you? Figured a big city was more your scene these days.

The warmth fades from her expression, replaced by a guarded coolness. Just taking care of some things. Now, if youll excuse me… She turns to leave, the basket in her hand swinging lightly. I dont know what possesses me, but the words tumble from my lips before I can stop them.

Emily, wait! Please, can we talk?

She hesitates, her shoulders tense. Then, with a sigh, she turns back to face me. Caeleb, trust me, all Ive done since coming back here two nights ago is wonder how to reach out to you guys. I havent been the best at any of it?—

You think? I retort immediately, then proceed to mentally curse myself. She stops mid-sentence and looks at me with reproachful eyes.

Are you sure you want to do this? she asks, her face suddenly impassive. Shes good at hiding her feelings. I should know.

Okay, time to give this another shot.

Look, I know Im not the best at communication, I fumble for the right words, but I just … I need to understand why you left so suddenly. Why you couldnt even give us a reason.

Her gaze softens, the faintest hint of sadness in her eyes. I was an idiot. But my situation was complicated. And its not about you, or Silas, or Finn. I just had some things I needed to deal with.

So … everythings okay now? A sliver of hope flickers to life.

She hesitates. Im working on it. Its not much, but its more than I had.

The awkwardness between us hangs heavy in the air. Before I can lose my nerve, I point to her basket of fresh produce. Need some help carrying that?

To my surprise, a smile tugs at the corner of her lips. Sure. Why not?

As we walk through the market, the tension slowly begins to dissipate. We talk about inconsequential things: the unusually warm weather, an upcoming art exhibition, the merits of sourdough versus rye. Its a strange sort of comfort, this normalcy in the midst of so much uncertainty.

Im actually hosting a dinner party tonight, I mention casually, surprised by the impulsive words leaving my mouth. A few friends, nothing fancy.

Sounds fun, she replies, but theres a flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

The words hang between us. An invitation seems wrong, too forward when theres so much unspoken between us. And yet, a desperate part of me wants her there, lighting up my house the way she lights up even this crowded marketplace.

Before I can overthink it further, I blurt out, Would you … would you like to come?

Her eyes search mine for a long moment. I … I dont know, Caeleb.

Emily, please. It would … it would mean a lot.

A flicker of a genuine smile touches her face. Alright, she relents. But just for dinner, and then I need to head home.

A wave of relief washes over me, followed by a jolt of anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, this is a step in the right direction, a thread to untangle the mess between us. I head home and begin preparing for the party. Its the first time Ive had any company over since that afternoon. I should be able to finish everything before Brians school ends.

Once the main bit is done, I go to fetch my kid. We eat an early dinner at the restaurant, and then, hes off to bed. He doesnt go down easy, though—not until I promise that he can join his favorite uncles for some late-night grub and a chat. With that bit sorted, I head to my backyard, where Im hosting.

I grimace as I open my phone to a text from Silas. I should let them know. I hop on a conference call with both of my best friends.

Were on our way, Finns voice comes through. Im bringing wine.

Good, I say tentatively, then pause for a beat. Theres something you guys should know. Shes back.

Who? Silas asks blandly.

Em, I blurt out. I saw her at the farmers market and—uh—I may have invited her to this …

Silass sigh fills the line. Okay. You saw her, and to amplify the taste of foot in your mouth, you invited her to the party.

Pretty much.

She coming?

I know I can hear hope in Finns question, but I also know hes guarding himself.

Yeah, I say slowly. She is.

Okay.

You guys— I want to tell them I understand if they need to hang back, especially after this information.

Well be there, Silas replies briskly. Hell, if shes coming, she better bring some answers.

The sun dips low, brushing the horizon with strokes of crimson and gold as I put the finishing touches on the dinner setup in my backyard. A canopy of fairy lights twinkles above, casting a soft glow over the tables adorned with ivory linens and vases of wildflowers. The air is filled with the mouthwatering aroma of roasted garlic and thyme, mingling with the subtle scent of blooming jasmine from the garden.

My trusted grill sizzles with succulent lamb chops, their savory spice rub promising a taste of culinary heaven, while a rustic loaf of rosemary bread, freshly baked and still warm, sits beside a salad of arugula, pear, and pecorino, dressed in a balsamic reduction thats both tangy and sweet.

I catch snippets of compliments on the enchanting setup, their anticipation for the feast ahead evident in their eager glances towards the food. Finn and Silas flank me. We dont talk about the inevitable, but it feels like … itll be alright, regardless of her presence.

Until it happens.

My hands falter over the sizzling lamb chops as I spot her silhouette in the twilight. An involuntary smile tugs at my lips before I can squash the traitorous emotion.

Shes wearing a light, floral sundress that flows around her like sunlight on water. Her wheatish skin glows, her chocolate-brown hair cascades down her shoulders to her waist. Those eyes, large and expressive, hold a hint of nervousness as they land on me, but the familiar warmth remains, a spark I thought extinguished.

Everything about her—the curve of her full lips, the distinct shape of her nose, the elegant line of her neck and those pronounced collarbones—throws me back to those nights under the stars, the shared moments, the unspoken promise of something more.

She approaches slowly, each step a measured beat against the frantic drumming of my heart. With every inch closer, the air around us seems to crackle with anticipation. Its like the world itself is holding its breath, waiting to see what unfolds between us.

When shes finally within reach, she smiles hesitantly. Hi. The single word shimmers with vulnerability and a hint of hope, and it damn near breaks me.

Hey … I manage, my voice rough. Taking a deep breath, I say what needs to be said. Were glad you could make it.

Silass eyebrows shoot up, and Finns jaw clenches, a storm brewing in their eyes. Emily stands her ground, her resolve evident in the way she sets her shoulders. Its not the defiance Ive come to expect; its something else, a silent plea I cant quite decipher.

I know what I did was rash, stupid even, she begins, a tremor in her voice betraying her nerves. Leaving like that … it wasnt about you guys. It was my own issues. Things I should have worked through years ago.

I search her eyes, aching for the truth, for some piece of her that still belongs to me, to us. Please, Emily, I urge quietly, just tell us. We need to understand.

She nods, the movement jerky and unsure. Im back, not just here, but in Emberton. Im hoping for another chance. Not only with you guys, but with … everything.

Hope, traitorous and persistent, flickers back to life. Before I can delve into the murky waters of what another chance actually means, Silas interrupts. Hold on there. Why? Youre saying you want another chance, and were asking why. Why did you run in the first place?

Emilys expression falters, the carefully constructed composure beginning to crack. Its the perfect setup, and I know the question I need to ask next. It hangs heavy between us, waiting to ignite the tension already simmering under the surface.

I probe further, Is this about what happened that night at the vineyard?

She nods, her eyes meeting mine. Yes, I panicked. But Im here to confront everything now, not run away. Someone sent me a Polaroid with a threat attached to it.

She hands me a picture. I look at it, breath contracted in anger at the message. Damn this to hell, I mutter. Emily, Im really sorry. I should have gotten to the bottom of this then and there.

The mood shifts. Were beginning to understand how this could have overwhelmed her, although I do still wish shed have talked to us first.

Its not your fault, she replies softly, resting her beautiful eyes on me. I didnt give you a chance to fix anything.

Silas, ever protective, cuts in, Well figure out whos behind this, Emily. Youre not alone in this.

It feels like were moving towards reconciliation. Finn fills a flute with bubbly and hands it to her. Join us.

I should probably avoid alcohol, Emily murmurs, almost to herself, before stroking her belly.

Everything just stops.

I cant hear anything except the thundering of Silas and Finns hearts beside me. And I cant see anything except the shock in Emilys face, and how she blushes as she realizes shes revealed far, far more than she ever intended to.

Guys, she says, voice trembling. I didnt?—

Its too late. Were you planning on telling us? Silas asks, the question loaded with implications.

Caught off guard, Emily stumbles for words. I … I hadnt figured out how to yet.

Disbelief and hurt flash across Finns face. So, you came back for our help with the family heirloom? Is that it?

Emily looks wounded. No, thats not it. I didnt come back to use anyone.

No? Silass voice is sharp, cutting through the air. Because it seems like you had no intention of letting us know youre pregnant.

I was scared! Emilys defense is a mix of frustration and desperation. I didnt know how to bring it up. I didnt want to burden anyone with my problems.

A burden? I find myself speaking up, frustration heavy in my voice. Emily, were supposed to be in this together. How can we help if you dont trust us?

Her apology sounds hollow in the face of our frustration. Im sorry, I just … I thought I could handle it on my own.

Silas steps forward, his tone softer but still laced with disappointment. Its not about handling it on your own, Emily. Its about trust. And right now, it feels like we dont have that with you.

The argument circles as we grapple with feelings of betrayal, disappointment, and concern. Emilys return, once a hopeful reunion, now feels overshadowed by secrets and mistrust.

Finn finally breaks the cycle, his voice heavy. We need to figure out where we go from here. Because right now, it feels like were more lost than ever.

Ive had enough. Emily, you need to leave.

What? Her eyes grow bigger. She looks at me pleadingly. Caeleb, I never meant?—

It doesnt matter what you did or did not mean, I say thickly. It matters that you still dont trust us, and maybe never will. Im not okay with that. I cant speak for my friends, but I cannot take any more of this bullshit.

With that, I turn and leave. I dont pause to look back at Emily and busy myself with other guests. My jaws begin to ache with the effort of smiling when Finn and Silas join me. Shes gone, Silas says.

Im sorry, I reply, voice flat.

Dont be.

The question of giving Emily another chance lingers, a specter at the feast, its answer as elusive as the whisper of the wind through the jasmine. Some distances might be too great to bridge, some wounds too deep to heal with mere words.