Chapter 4 A PROPOSAL, A CHOICE

Emma could barely remember the drive after leaving Adrian's office. The mere resonance of his words threaded heavy in her mind like a thunderstorm rumbling with inside-the-cloud tension and crackling fat lightning.

"Be my wife. For a year."

Such impertinence! Over and over again, it kept repeating in the back of her mind as her quivering fingers gripped the steering wheel of her tiny little car. She rejected it bitterly, but with a shadow lurking danger, her chest tightened.

Could she really even think about it?

Her phone buzzed as if to awaken her from her musing spiral. She quickly glanced at the screen and saw Sophia's name flashing on it. Emma swiped to answer the call.

"Hey, Sophia, I just left-"

"Emma, it's Dad." From her end, Sophia's voice was clinging to the edge of a panic. "He is in the hospital."

Emma's stomach dropped. "What? What happened now?"

"He collapsed... I don't know. They're saying it's his heart again. Please, can you come here? They're talking about surgery. I don't know what to do!"

Emma never needed any further information. "I'm on my way," she said with a voice adjacent to tightening.

The hospital was a confusing labyrinth of sterile white walls and the incessant beeping of monitors. Above hung buzzing fluorescent lights, adding to the tension that seemed to encroach from all sides. Emma hurried toward a waiting room, her heels clicking against the tile, heart aching as fast as her legs would carry her there.

She caught sight of Sophia pacing by the window, arms folded tightly across her torso.

"Emma!" cried Sophia as she darted to her sister's side.

Emma cuddled her into an embrace. "What happened?" she gasped.

Sophia sniffed, swiping at the tears marking her face. "He just... collapsed. Doctors say it's his heart and that he probably needs surgery. But..."

"But what?" Emma drew back, grasping Sophia by the shoulders.

Sophia shook her head, tears spilling out anew, "They said it's a very expensive operation. Thousands. Tens of thousands of dollars, Emma. And without it, he might not make it."

Emma's heart tightened at the sight of the tiny window into their father's room. He lay still, connected to machines that beeps regularly-a reminder of how fragile the thread upon which he dangled.

Her proud, laborious, and self-made father had given everything so that they would not die but have a chance at making life. And now, during this desperate time, they had nothing to give.

Sophia's voice broke her reverie. "Emma. What are we going to do? We do not have enough money."

Emma was silent as she drifted into her thoughts. Her hand wandered down to her purse, where black card Adrian had given her earlier lay hidden away. The edges pressed against her palm as if sneering at her.

For a long moment, she stared at it, the weight of her family's desperation resting like a lead-filled backpack on her shoulders.

"Emma?" Sophia's voice was small, almost begging.

"I'll figure it out," Emma finally said although the words sounded hollow.

Sophia's eyes brightened with hope, but Emma couldn't face her gaze. She turned sharply and walked down the hall, ignoring her sister's calls after her. Her feet steered themselves out of the hospital exit while Emma's thoughts raced with ideas of what she might do.

By the time she reached her boss's office, Emma's desperation had hardened into resolve. She barged in without knocking, catching Mr. Hanley mid-sip of his coffee.

"Emma?" he said, surprised. "What are you doing here so late?"

"I need an advance," she said, voice shaking. "On my salary."

Frowning, he set down the mug. "What, an advance? For what?"

"My dad's in the hospital," was Emma's hurried confession. "He needs surgery, and I don't have enough money for it. Please. I wouldn't ask if it weren't serious."

Hanley leaned back into his chair and rubbed his temples. "Emma, I'm sorry to hear about your dad. Truly," he told her. "But the paper is not exactly in a position to be handing out advances right now."

That broke her heart. "You can't? Hanley, I beg you."

"I wish I could help," he interrupted, finality in his voice. "But my hands are tied."

She froze, his words crashing against her like a tidal wave. Then she turned and left his office, dazed, her mind spiraling out of control.

Emma walked across the newsroom to find her colleagues whispering and looking toward her direction. Lauren approached, stretching an envelope forward.

"We heard about your dad," Lauren said softly. "We all pitched in. It's not much, but we wanted to help."

Emma took the envelope, her hands shaking. Inside was a modestly wealthy pack of cash. Tears welled in her eyes when she looked up at all her coworkers' quiet sympathy.

"Not enough for surgery," said Lauren. "But maybe it can help for something."

Emma couldn't hold back. She put a hand onto her mouth, and her shoulders shook as the happiness and helplessness rolled into one overwhelming swell and flooded her body.

"Thank you," she whispers, voice breaking. "Thank you so much."

Emma was offered all the smiles of comfort, while one person even offered the gentle touch of the shoulder in consolation. She closed in on the envelope and allowed her tears to flow freely as she walked out of the office.

It was night when Emma came out of the office. The city then bustled with sounds of traffic and the streetlights, leaving Emma feeling completely empty inside. She sank into the driver's seat of her car and stared blankly ahead at the steering wheel.

Her father required surgery, and she had Sophia counting on her. Their kindness was good, but it wasn't going to be enough.

She had no idea what to do.

Her hand flew down to her purse again, and she produced Adrian's card. The bead in the bottle, which had just one bead, sat in contact with the surface of time, where her thoughts circled again with his words.

"Be my wife. For a year."

The thought was preposterous. Outrageous. But in that very moment, as she sat there, the weight of her family's trouble bore down on her, it started to lose some of that absurdity.

She exhaled shakily and turned on the ignition.

The time Emma got to CrossTech Tower, the streets were already quiet, with the intimidating building silhouetted against the night sky and its glass walls twinkling with the reflections of the city lights.

A sleek black car came out of the underground garage. Before thinking, Emma plowed her vehicle right into the car's path, stopping both cars dead in their tracks.

The black car driver honked once and then again and finally ground to a halt.

The back window rolled down, and there he was Adrian Cross, with his sharp gray eyes narrowing as he leaned slightly forward from his seat.

"What the hell are you doing?" came his low clipped drawl.

Emma's heart raced, but she didn't stand down. She got out of her car and walked toward his, stopping just shy of the open window.

Adrian's expression as he inspected her was unreadable. "Well," he said.

Emma's hands shook, but he forced herself to meet his piercing stare, finding the strength to do so.

Her voice was steady despite the chaos inside her as she said, "Fine. I'll do it. I'll be your wife."

After a second, Adrian did not respond, only looked at her, piercing her deep with those eyes as though searching for cracks in her resolve. Then, a slow, deliberate smile spreads across his face.

"Good," he said simply.

And with that one word, it was all too apparent to Emma: her world shifted once again, but this time, never to be reset.