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He had been avoiding her. Even after those few months between the mission to kill Boro and the disaster of a wedding, he had been avoiding her.
No, not Carter. Surprisingly Carter now wanted to talk. Carter was following her around like a puppy, with his eyebrows always up and his eyes widened, giving her that look that means he specifically wants to talk. Yet he seems willing, seems eager, seems open. This time she’s the one blowing him off, trying to chase the man that wants nothing to do with her—the man that thinks he’s just her rebound. God, was her timing always so fucked up. Everything about this was fucked up, but timing… yeah, her timing of admitting the feelings she was too stubborn to notice was off. Off by a landslide.
Could you blame her though? She didn’t know if he was going to die, if she was going to die, and maybe Emma believed that if there was some hope for a future with him, that it would keep her going, give her some will to survive. Karma was a bitch though, and he blew her off too, shoved the truth in her face. Well, the partial truth. An inkling of truth more so. Fair enough.
And so she had given him space, time, to prove that she wasn’t lying, wasn’t emotional, wasn’t hurt or sad or any other number of things. Still, he didn’t want to talk to her.
Tough luck, cause if one thing was true about Emma, it was that she was stubborn as hell. And now that she had the majority of her feelings sorted out (due to a long reflection period thanks to a decent leave of work), she wasn’t afraid to voice them; even if she was terrified. She knew this is what needed to be done. If Aldon still rejected her, didn’t want her, found her insincere or believed she was lying, then she’d have to live with that. She’d accept her consequences. However she was never one to not try, and after witnessing what her dad had went through over the love of her mom… how could she not put all her chips in.
Despite what others might think, this wasn’t impulsive. Following Aldon as he left their remote cabin in the hills of the Montana wilderness wasn’t her being trigger-happy. No, it had taken her days to build up the courage and follow him as he went to chop some firewood (curse those muscles).
“I know you’re following me,” he muttered once they were a decent distance from the cabin. Almost reluctantly, he stopped on the trail, turning to wait as Emma cleared the bend and became visible. “What do you want Emma?”
She paused for a moment, taking him in. She had his attention. That was step one. But it wasn’t enough. And despite her mind screaming at her that this was a stupid idea, her heart won out, and so did instinct. She couldn’t hesitate. Not now.
“I want to talk to you. I want you to listen. No, not just listen, but hear me,” she began, her tone strong, yet it softened when she realized how forthcoming she sounded. Too aggressive. Far too aggressive. Almost defensive. That wouldn’t do. “I want to just talk. Explain myself, explain everything. And then you can decide how you feel about me.”
His gaze didn’t soften, yet Aldon seemed less on edge. His shoulders sagged just slightly as he took a breath, nodding, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll listen.”
Emma nodded as well softly, walking towards him so they weren’t standing at an awkwardly far distance. Still slightly nervous, she ran her hand over her stray fly-aways that had fallen out of her ponytail. It did nothing but allow her to busy her hands, to keep the slight anxiousness, the need to freeze or flee at bay.
“You probably overheard part of one of my rants to my dad, about why I wanted to be perfect, or at least seem perfect. It was partly to keep him around, but because I couldn’t do that the other part was control. I just… I needed control,” she began speaking evenly, clearly, knowing that her tone might not stay steady for long. Feelings, shit, Emma hated talking about feelings yet her she was. “And when I joined the CIA I found that I could control my home life. I could control what my family thought about me. So, I became what I thought they wanted me to be. I stayed perfect. And I chose Carter—“
She watched as his face contorted at the sound of his name. It was subtle, and he covered it up with ease, yet Emma still noticed the wave of, could she say, doubt mixed with pain and a drop self-consciousness, cross his features.
“I chose Carter,” she continued, “because he was everything I was not. He was predictable, he was honest, simple and stable. He was also kind, so kind, one of the kindest men I will ever meet, and I felt that he was the best match for perfect Emma. Because perfect Emma was also all those things. And yeah, maybe I wanted to get a dig at my dad, knowing he’d disapprove, but…”
Aldon arched his eyebrow at that statement, clearly amused.
“Well, that’s another story. I just…” she shook her head forcefully, “the point is that I had to learn to love Carter. I had to keep telling myself I did love him because he loved me, and he’d always love me and that’s all that matters. So if I accepted him, married him, like everyone expected I could be happy, because perfect Emma and Carter belong together.”
Emma felt her hand beginning to shake, her voice beginning to rise, and immediately she crossed her arms, tucking her hands under her armpits. To settle the anxiousness rising again, she paced slightly before taking another deep breath, attempting to calm herself. God, speaking the words were so much harder than thinking them.
“The most obvious truth that I continued to ignore was the fact that I am not perfect Emma. The person I am at home is a different person, like one of my covers for a mission. Yes, I love my brother, my mother, Romi, but there was still that disconnect. I couldn’t be me around them, only a version of myself,” Emma admitted, staring at the dirt trail, the ground, the autumn fall leaves hanging onto the branches by a thread, the clouded over sky, the swallow’s nest perched a few feet away, anything but staring at Aldon. She didn’t want to read his eyes, his posture, his expression. Not as she revealed this truth. “I convinced myself I loved Carter. And because that was the only voice in my head I began to believe it. I always told myself: he loves you, he’d never leave you. Ignoring the fact that he loved only a version of me, everybody did. And after the way my dad reacted, realizing that I wasn’t perfect Emma… I felt that if I showed that person to the rest of my family, to Carter, they’d all leave. They’d realize that they were loving an imposter, a lie.”
With a sharp breath, Emma shallowed down the tears that were threatening to surface. But she couldn’t cry. Not in front of Aldon. She didn’t want his pity. All she wanted was for him to know what was going on in her head.
Aside from being stubborn, there was one other rule to Emma. She didn’t cry. Old boyfriends would call her heartless. The mean girls in high school would just say she was a soulless witch. And she usually wouldn’t take their words to heart, yet she didn’t cry when Carter broke up with her, no, she was just angry. Angry he ruined her perfectly crafted controlled life. That stirred something in her, only making Emma realize the already blatant truth.
“And the only place where I felt I was myself, where I wasn’t pretending was between those missions at work. It used to be when I was alone, but recently, I’ve found that those moments are also when I’m with you.”
Emma couldn’t look away from him then. Their gazes snapped onto each other—one could call it magnetic. In an instant, the brunette was nearly at a loss for words, finding herself stunned to silence, trapped in his hopelessly awed expression. A look she had never seen on the arrogant yet ever charismatic and charming man. A look that was oddly humble.
It gave her the final push, to say what she had wanted to say all along. What she wanted to say before she ran off to find Boro, just didn’t know how.
Now she did. And she wasn’t going to fuck it up this time, “You were wrong, Aldon. I wasn’t scared to admit that I had feelings for you because of your history or anything like that. I was scared because these feelings were out of my control. And if I ran with these feelings, let myself fall, without any control, I wouldn’t be perfect Emma. I would be just me and I…”
Her rambling quickly stilled. Emma tightened her eyes shut, mustering up every ounce of strength to just say the words…
“I don’t think that’s enough to make people stay.”
She let out a few quick breaths, her chest heaving. And suddenly it felt like she couldn’t breath as Emma watched Aldon process what she had just said. Watch as his face fell. Watch as his eyebrows twisted into concern. Watch the pity. Not the damn pity!
“Don’t,” Emma managed to find the breath to speak, even if it was just this last sentence, “don’t look at me like that. It’s fine. It’s the truth, but it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, Emma,” he murmured, his words the softest she had ever heard them. They matched the expression in his eyes. Yet his gaze quickly firmed. Not into a harsh or cold stare, rather a purposeful one. A gaze he knew she would take seriously. A gaze filled with respect. Emma’s heart fluttered at the sight.
“It’s not fine and it’s not true. You have a good family. They will always love you, every part of you. Living on the run with them these last few weeks have proven that,” he stated, taking a few steps towards her, until there was less than a few feet of space between them. “And you don’t have to hide around me. You never had to, and I believe you never did. I am in awe of every part of you, Emma Brunner, the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful. And nothing will change that. I didn’t lie when I said I’d wait.”
“But, in the hallway, when you were shot…” she took a step back, confused, her brow scrunching up in a way that made Aldon want to reach up and smooth the far too common crease.
“I didn’t want you doing something you’d regret while high on adrenaline.”
“And you avoiding me?” she asked, even more pointedly.
“I figured that if you truly did care about me, even if it's only a fraction for how much I care about you, you’d persist. You’re stubborn, Emma. I think its one of your best traits,” he admitted, and looked away almost sheepishly. Was Aldon Reece blushing?
“So you waited, I chased, what now?” she asked, their eyes meeting again.
“Answer me honestly,” he began.
“I swear I will,” she assured him quickly.
Aldon let out a sigh, “Do you still love Carter?”
Emma nodded to herself, knowing the question was reasonable. The question she had been asking herself over the entirety of their relationship.
“Genuinely, I do care for him, I see the good in him. I feel terrible for dragging him along like I did, but no. I don’t think I ever loved him. I loved the idea of him, the concept, how he had fit into the life I had planned. But in my heart, I didn’t feel that rush for him, that thrill, not…” she took in a sharp breath, “not like what I feel for you.”
Like a sudden burst of electricity had shot through them, a gust of wind sweeping through Emma's lungs, he was before her, cupping her cheek with one hand, wrapping his arm around her waist with the other, kissing her. Kissing her in a way that Emma had never been kissed before. Kissed with a passion she believed at one point the poets had lied about. Kissed with such purpose, and strength, yet it held this underlying tenderness that she could only detect as Aldon.
When the kiss ended, it was far too soon. This was nothing like the parking lot kiss or the break room kiss. Yes, Aldon was still a good kisser on both accounts (a ridiculously good kisser), yet those kisses held this feverous frustration within them, felt between their lips. Emma’s frustration that her heart didn’t align with her head. Aldon’s frustrations that none of this was real. None of that was present in this kiss.
Emma practically felt he knees go weak at the feeling, her heartbeat quickening in a way she could only compare to the best type of adrenaline rush. The type that made her mind clear, not cloudy.
“It’s not gonna be perfect, Emma,” Aldon murmured, taking a step back, yet still holding her waist tightly as he ran his other hand down to the base of her neck. “We’ve both got our shit to work though, but I want to see where this goes.”
“I do too,” she echoed, her voice at a whisper as she leaned up, her lips nearing his.
“But know, no matter what, I won’t leave you. You’re my partner. I will always have your back. In everything,” he added before she could silence his words.
“You can’t promise that,” she shook her head, yet didn’t lengthen the distance between their lips, instead staying glued to the spot.
“Hell, since we’re being honest,” Aldon muttered under his breath, looking down before the blonde’s gaze found her’s again. “I love you, in a way I have not loved anybody else, nor will I. So believe me when I say I’m not going anywhere Emma. As long as you’ll have me, I’ll be here.”
Emma was silent for a moment, her eyes wide, lips just slightly parted in shock. Yet when she came to her senses, she beamed, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, let’s try. See where this goes. Cause I might just love you too.”
And Emma realized, as she kissed Aldon in the middle of the woods, that she truly meant it. God, did loving him feel good.