Knots Between Us

Chapter Four

“You know I can always stay home,” Emma joked, folding a pair of jeans into her bag.

“Nice try, but you’re going. You’re making me and your dad proud—not that we aren’t proud of the woman you’ve become,” her mother said, smiling warmly.

“Ladybug, everyone’s waiting outside. What’s taking so—” Her dad stopped mid-step, eyes glistening as he saw her nearly empty room.

“Your flight leaves in two hours. Stop dawdling,” he added, grabbing random things from her dresser and tossing them into her bag.

“Dad! I was eating those!” Emma protested as he threw in a half-eaten bag of chips. His frown softened into a sad, almost guilty expression.

She hugged him tightly. He wrapped her back without a word.

It had been a week since she’d been accepted into Columbia’s prestigious architecture internship program. Only four students from Vanderbilt had made it, including her and Connor.

Just then, a car honked outside.

“Looks like Connor’s ready to go,” Emma said, forcing a smile.

“You check the room one last time. I’ll take these downstairs,” her dad said, picking up her bags, followed by her mother.

Emma’s gaze fell on a teddy bear her dad had given her when she was four. Smiling, she tucked it into her oversized bag and took one last lingering look at the room before stepping outside.

Connor and her dad were already arguing over directions. Emma went to Aiden, who leaned casually against his truck, watching them with an amused smile.

“They at it again?” she asked.

“Yep,” he chuckled.

“How about we just follow the GPS?” she suggested, breaking up the argument. Connor grumbled but relented.

She hugged her parents goodbye. Her mother held her tightly. “Take care of yourself, and don’t forget to call every night.”

Emma’s lips pressed into a tight smile. Her dad kissed the top of her head as she squeezed his hand. Connor honked impatiently.

“I better go,” she whispered, stepping toward the truck. Once inside, her composure faltered, tears slipping down her cheeks. Through the side mirror, she saw her parents standing side by side, her dad’s arm draped over her mom’s shoulder.

The ride to the airport passed with jokes and chatter, but the mood shifted when they saw Rory and Jake jogging toward them.

“Which flight are you on?” Rory asked.

“QZ413,” Emma replied. “You?”

“Same here. We’ve already checked in, but hurry—the line is long,” Rory said.

Jake offered to help with Emma’s bag, but Aiden pushed it into his arms instead. “Thanks, buddy,” she said with a small smile.

With an hour to spare, they grabbed a bite to eat. Emma sat at a table while the others went to order. Conversation flowed easily until it was time to board.

“Knock ’em dead, Red,” Aiden said, pulling her into a hug.

“Take care of them for me,” she whispered.

Carrying her iced tea, Emma stepped forward—and tripped on Rory’s backpack. The cup flew, splashing cold liquid across the chest of the man in front of her.

Sebastian.

His white shirt soaked, he glared. “What the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you see where you’re going?”

“You—” he started, recognizing her immediately.

“It was an accident,” Jake interjected. Sebastian ignored him, jaw tight, before storming off, leaving a charged silence behind.

Connor smirked. “Karma’s a b***h, huh?”

Sebastian’s glare returned over his shoulder, dangerous and simmering. He disappeared into the crowd, but the air between them crackled.

Minutes later, security stopped Emma.

“Please come with us, ma’am,” a guard said.

“What’s wrong?” Jake asked.

“It’s routine,” the guard said. “But we have reason to believe you’re carrying contraband.”

Emma froze. Her gaze snapped to Sebastian, who sat smugly watching, arms crossed. But then—something shifted. He wasn’t just watching. His eyes betrayed the slightest hint of guilt as he observed her pleading quietly.

The guards escorted her to a small office. She emptied her bag slowly, tears slipping down her cheeks. The humiliation was sharp, made worse by Sebastian’s quiet attention. She could hear her friends outside, arguing, but she stayed calm, trying not to crumble.

When she finally ran out, arms wrapped around herself, her friends rushed to her side. Sebastian remained frozen, fists clenched, watching her flee. Guilt and fascination tangled inside him in ways he hadn’t expected.

“God damn it,” he muttered under his breath, jaw tight. Normally, he wouldn’t care—but seeing her like that stirred something he couldn’t ignore.

He had orchestrated it, yes—meant it as a lesson. But seeing her trembling, exposed, and utterly human twisted something inside him. He hadn’t anticipated this response, hadn’t counted on how her vulnerability would make his chest tighten.

“I went too far,” he admitted quietly to himself, jaw tightening. Normally, he would shrug it off, board his private jet, and leave it behind. But he didn’t move. Not yet.

Watching her clutch herself, seeing the flushed cheeks, the tight shoulders, he realized making her miserable wasn’t satisfaction—it was discomfort, irritation, and something else entirely. Something he didn’t want to name.

Buried under pride and control, he knew one thing for certain: he had crossed a line.