Chapter 169
Emily's POV
I felt Mason's hand settle on my shoulder, gentle and grounding, and that simple touch was somehow what finally allowed me to start pulling myself back together. I took a shaky breath, then another, forcing air into my lungs and counting the seconds until the sobs started to subside into hiccups and gasps.
When I finally lifted my head from Alex's shoulder, all three of them were surrounding me—Alex in front with his steady gaze, Ethan behind with his arms still wrapped around me, Mason kneeling beside the bed with his hand on my shoulder—and the concern on their faces was so genuine, so absolute, that something in my chest cracked wide open.
"I'm sorry," I managed, my voice wrecked and shaky. "I didn't mean to lose it like that. I'm okay, I just—"
"Don't apologize," Ethan said firmly, his arms tightening around me. "You don't have to apologize for feeling things. Not with us."
"He's right," Mason added, his hand moving from my shoulder to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing away tears that were still streaming down my face. "You're allowed to fall apart. We've got you."
I looked at Alex, who was watching me with an expression that was somehow both soft and fiercely protective, and felt my throat tighten all over again. "You did this," I said, the words coming out thick and uneven. "All of you. You found him when the police couldn't. You made sure I was safe. I don't—I don't even know how to thank you for that."
"You don't have to thank us," Alex said, his hand moving to tangle with mine where it rested against his chest. "This is what we do. We take care of you. That's not something you need to earn or repay."
"We love you," Ethan said, and the simplicity of it—the absolute certainty in his voice—made my breath catch in my throat. "That's the whole reason. We love you, and we're not going to let anyone hurt you. Not your father. Not anyone."
Mason nodded, his hand still cradling my face with a gentleness that made me want to start crying all over again. "You're ours, Emily. And we protect what's ours."
I looked at each of them in turn—Alex with his steady, unshakeable presence; Ethan with his fierce loyalty and easy warmth; Mason with his quiet strength and careful tenderness—and felt something fundamental shift inside me. Not just relief or gratitude, but something deeper and more permanent. Something that felt like finally coming home after spending my entire life wandering.
"I love you," I said, my voice still rough and unsteady but strong enough to mean it. "All of you. I love you so much and I don't know what I did to deserve this, but I'm not letting go. I'm never letting any of you go."
Alex leaned in and kissed me, slow and deliberate and full of quiet promise. When he pulled back, Ethan turned my face toward him and did the same, his kiss fierce and claiming in a way that made heat bloom low in my stomach despite everything. Then Mason, his lips soft and reverent against mine, like he was afraid I might shatter if he wasn't careful enough.
When we finally broke apart I was still surrounded by them, held in place by their arms and their warmth and the absolute certainty that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
"I should start getting ready for work," I said eventually, my voice still shaky but steadier now. "I need to be there by nine-thirty if I want to get through emails before the ten o'clock meeting."
"You sure you're okay to go in?" Alex asked, his hand still tangled with mine. "I can reschedule if you need more time."
"No." I shook my head, wiping at my face with my free hand and feeling a smile tug at the corners of my mouth despite the tears still drying on my cheeks. "I'm okay. Better than okay, actually. I want to go. I want to—" I paused, trying to find the right words. "I want to do something normal. Something that's just mine. Does that make sense?"
"Yeah," Ethan said, pressing another kiss to my temple before finally loosening his grip. "It makes sense. Go do your thing. We'll be here when you get back."
I nodded, reluctantly extracting myself from the tangle of arms and warmth, and headed for the bathroom to clean up. My reflection in the mirror was a mess, but underneath all of that I looked lighter somehow. Like I'd been carrying something impossibly heavy for so long I'd forgotten what it felt like to stand up straight, and someone had finally taken the weight off my shoulders.
By the time I'd showered and dressed and made myself look presentable, the emotional storm had settled into something calmer. Not gone—I didn't think that kind of relief ever really went away—but manageable. Contained. I grabbed my bag from the hook by the door, checked that I had my keys and my phone, and headed out to my car with a feeling that was dangerously close to happiness humming in my chest.
The drive to The Echelon House took twenty-three minutes, and I spent most of it with the radio turned up loud enough to drown out my thoughts, letting the music wash over me while I focused on the simple mechanics of driving. By the time I pulled into the employee parking lot I'd managed to pull myself back into something resembling professional composure, and I walked through the back entrance with my head up and my shoulders straight.
A few of the kitchen staff called out greetings as I passed, and I returned them with smiles that felt almost normal. My assistant was waiting outside my office when I arrived, her expression polite but slightly strained in a way that immediately put me on alert.
"Morning, Emily," she said, falling into step beside me as I unlocked the door. "You've got a visitor. He showed up about twenty minutes ago and said he'd wait as long as it took to see you."
I paused with my hand on the doorknob, my good mood flickering. "I don't have anything scheduled until ten. Did he say what it was about?"
"No. Just that it was important." She hesitated, then added in a voice that was carefully neutral, "It's Edward Monroe. Alex's father. He's waiting in the small conference room."