CHAPTER 7: The Coat Over Her Shoulders

The rain had soaked through Emily’s dress so completely that the fabric clung to her legs when she shifted her weight.
Only then did Richard seem to notice how cold she was.
Or perhaps he had noticed from the beginning and waited until business stopped being the only language in the air.
He removed his overcoat and placed it over her shoulders himself.
The gesture was awkward, almost formal, as if fatherhood had to move through unfamiliar muscles to reach his hands.
Emily looked up at him.
For years, Richard had been easier to admire from a distance than to love up close. He paid school tuition without attending recitals. He sent gifts with assistants. He solved injuries with doctors and grief with silence.
But he had come.
Not tomorrow.
Not after a board meeting.
Now.
“You should have called sooner,” he said.
Emily almost laughed at the absurd tenderness hidden inside the criticism.
“I was busy getting thrown out of my own house,” she replied.
For the first time that night, something like regret moved across Richard’s face.
He touched her wet hair once, brief and uncertain, then looked at the baby curve beneath the coat.
His voice lowered.
“No one will ever put you in the rain again.”