Emma.
I held my head down as I walked back to my room.
My cheeks and my heart ached badly and I felt a lump in my throat that I couldn't swallow down. I needed to keep busy, to distract myself from the pain. So, I grabbed a broom and started cleaning, hoping the repetitive motion would help me relax, and would somehow help me forget.
I hadn't even gotten past the first window when the door creaked open, and I glanced up to see Roger standing there.
What was he doing here? I didn't want him anywhere close to me. But then I couldn't exactly say that. Could I?
"Emma, have dinner with me," he said softly.
I shook my head, looking down at the floor. "I'm not hungry," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.
Roger stepped closer, and I instinctively took a step back. "Don't come nea
