Chapter 48 Chapter 48
Emily's POV
I watched it twice. The first time, I didn’t breathe. The second time, I noticed everything. The way his voice didn’t waver and the fact that he didn’t look away. The way he said my name like it wasn’t something he needed to protect, but something he was willing to stand in front of like a shield.
My thumb hovered over the screen long after the video ended, replaying the last few seconds in my head even though I had already seen them twice.
She doesn’t deserve what’s happening to her right now.
My chest tightened, and then relief hit me like pressure releasing from somewhere deep inside me. Someone finally said it out loud without twisting it and turning it into something else. He defended me. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t even protect himself first. But the relief didn't last, because fear and anger washed over me, because as the comments loaded beneath the video, as I watched the reactions split, and my name pulled back into the center of it, I realized what he had actually done. He didn’t just defend me. It wasn't just speculation anymore.
There was no space to quietly fix things behind the scenes. He took that away. I was even more exposed than before. I locked my phone and just stood still for a second while taking a deep breath before I moved, because sitting there thinking about it wasn’t going to help. I needed to see him. I needed to understand what he was thinking, but I knew I couldn’t stay where I was.
The walk back to the apartment felt longer than usual. Every step felt heavier. People weren’t whispering as quietly anymore. There was a story with both sides.There was something real enough to dissect.
I kept my head forward. I didn’t slow down or engage with anyone.
I reached the apartment door and paused for a second. Once I opened this door, this wouldn’t just be thoughts anymore. It would be confrontation and real, but unavoidable. I pushed the door open. He was standing in the lounge like he had been waiting. And the second his eyes met mine, everything I had been holding in since I watched that video surged forward all at once.
“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me.” The words came out sharper than I had intended. I didn’t give myself time to soften them. He didn’t flinch, he just looked at me.
“I wasn’t deciding,” he said. His voice was calm. “I was standing up for you.”
“That’s not your call.”
“It is when you’re getting blamed for something you didn’t do.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“You made it worse,” I said, stepping further into the lounge.
“I made it visible.”
“It was already visible.”
“Not like that.”
“Exactly,” I snapped. “Not like that.” My hands tightened at my sides. “You turned it into something bigger.”
“It already was.”
“Noah...” I exhaled sharply, trying to keep my voice steady. “You don’t understand what this does to me.”
“Then explain it.”
“I already did.”
“No,” he said quietly. “You told them. You haven’t told me.” He was right about that.
“This affects my career. My credibility and my future.” I said.
“It affects mine too.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because you can recover from this.” His expression shifted slightly. “You are already established,” I continued. “You have a reputation. A position and a network that supports you.”
“And you don’t?”
“Not in the same way.” I stepped closer. My voice lowering. “This-this makes me look like I manipulated my way into opportunity.”
“You didn’t.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It should.”
“It doesn’t.” I had just sat in a room where truth didn’t matter. Where perception outweighed everything I had worked for. And now he had made that perception unavoidable. “I can’t afford this,” I said.
“And I can?”
“You’re not the one being questioned.”
“I am.”
“Not like this.”
“I did what I thought was right,” he said.
“I know.”
“And you’re still mad.”
“Yes.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because you didn’t think about what I needed.”
“I did.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I thought about you.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
He stepped closer, enough to close the space between us. “Then tell me what I missed.” All of a sudden, the anger dissipated.
“You took the choice away from me,” I said quietly. “You made a decision that affects my life without asking me first.”
“You didn’t have time.”
“That’s not your decision to make.”
“You were already getting torn apart.”
“And now I’m in the center of it.”
“At least now it’s not just you.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“It should be.”
“It’s not.” My voice wavered slightly. I hated that. “Because now...” I stopped and swallowed and forced the words out. “Now I’m dependent on what you say.”
He frowned slightly. “That’s not what this is.”
“It is.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It is,” I repeated. “Because now the narrative shifts based on you, on your actions and on your statements.”
“That’s not control, that’s support.”
“That’s risk.”
“For who?”
“For me.”
“You chose me,” I said before I could stop myself. The words hung there. It was unexpected.
His expression changed. “I did,” he said. That terrified me more than everything spiraling outside this apartment. This was personal.
“You didn’t have to,” I said.
“I wanted to.”
“That’s the problem.”
“Why?”
“Because now I have to deal with that.”
“With what?”
“With you...” I stopped, exhaling sharply. “With what you’re doing... with what this means.”
“It means I’m not letting you take the fall alone.” he said.
“It means I don’t get to control how this unfolds.”
“You never had full control.”
“I had enough.”
“Did you?”
“This is exactly why I don’t trust people like you.” I said. The words slipped out before I could stop them.
He didn’t react right away. I knew the second the words left my mouth, I didn’t mean them like that. But it was too late. I swallowed, regret rising too fast to control.
“I...” I stopped. I didn’t know how to fix it. Because this wasn’t something I could rephrase.
He finally moved, stepping back, creating space enough to know something had shifted.The argument didn’t matter anymore. This was the one I couldn’t control. And the one I might not be able to fix. That scared me more than anything else.