Chapter 17
Marcelo offered a strained smile, but it felt menacing, almost dangerous. He and Connor quickly grasped Emelie’s arms, their grip firm. Had they not feared hurting her, they would have already swept her away.
Three hands held her fast, forcing Emelie fully awake. The sight of the Horton brothers instantly soured her mood.
“As you can see, I am married. This isn’t a joke, or a game. I won’t go back with you. I’ve married Tyler. I have a home now, and there’s no place for you in it.”
Emelie’s voice was sharp, resolute, as she pushed their hands away. “I’m not choosing any of you.”
Her words echoed in their minds, a cruel mockery—she no longer wanted them. Anthony’s eyes, filled with confusion and disbelief, finally spoke the unspoken question in Marcelo and Connor’s hearts.
“Why?” he asked. “Why won’t you choose? You loved one of us, didn’t you? Was your love so easily discarded? We’ve loved you for years!”
Emelie offered a small, weary smile. “I’m not choosing because it doesn’t matter. I don’t love any of you. Is that clear? And stop saying you love me. Admit it—you’re unwilling to let go. You have others in your lives, and so do I. We’ll all be happier this way. Isn't that better, my dear brothers?”
It had been years since she’d called them brothers. The word, once heartwarming, now felt cold. As children, they’d fiercely competed for her affection. Eventually, Emelie had stopped using the term, addressing them by name, giving each his own identity, ending their childish rivalry. She’d always treated them fairly; now, by choosing none, she maintained that equality. Her impartial rejection caused the Horton brothers unbearable pain.
“No, that’s not true! This isn’t about letting go! We love you!” Marcelo’s voice cracked.
But Emelie was exhausted. After a passionate night lasting until dawn, she’d had little sleep before this confrontation. She had no energy for a futile argument. They never listened, clinging to their beliefs. There was no point.
Emelie simply shoved them out and slammed the door. The moment they were gone, her legs gave way, and she leaned on Tyler for support. Her carefully maintained composure crumbled.
Without hesitation, Tyler lifted her into his arms and carried her to bed. He fetched a balm and gently applied it to her tender skin. “You don’t have to be brave with me. Tell me if you’re hurt. I’ll always be here for you.” His usually cool tone softened.
Emelie almost succumbed to the moment, but an instinctive caution held her back. “Always?” she asked.
“Always,” he replied firmly.
Confronted with such genuine kindness, Emelie found herself withdrawing slightly.