James looked at her with both firmness and tenderness.

“Then tell her,” he said quietly. “But at the right time. You tried today, and she wasn’t ready. Her heart’s in pieces. She needs to process all of this—to cry, to be angry. It’s part of it. The truth, when it hits like an explosion, can terrify, can destroy… but it can also rebuild.”

Emma gripped the fabric of his shirt, silent, seeking comfort in the only place where love still lived.

“And what if she never listens to me?” she asked in a