The Forbidden Throb Chapter 63

Emma's POV:

I woke to unfamiliar ceiling moldings.

For a disorienting moment, I couldn't place where I was.

Then it came back. Daniel's apartment. Our apartment, technically, though the word still felt foreign on my tongue.

I sat up slowly, wincing at the dull ache behind my eyes.

The last thing I remembered clearly was falling asleep in Daniel's car, the engine's hum and his steady presence lulling me into exhausted oblivion.

He must have carried me inside.

The thought sent heat creeping up my neck. I glanced down—still fully dressed in yesterday's clothes, shoes removed and placed neatly by the door.

A glass of water sat on the nightstand beside a warming steam eye mask and a brief note in Daniel's precise handwriting: *For your eyes. There's breakfast in the kitchen.*

The memory of last night flooded back with mortifying clarity—me, sobbing in a convenience store. Crying in his arms like a child. The damp patch my tears must have left on his shirt.

I pressed my palms against my burning cheeks. *God! How embarrassing.*

My phone showed 7:47 AM. Wednesday morning. I should be getting ready for work.

Work.

James's actions replayed with brutal clarity in my mind, every detail sharp-edged and unavoidable.

The shame was immediate and visceral, tightening around my ribs like a vice.

In the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face, avoiding my reflection.

I stood there for a long moment, gripping the edge of the sink, my mind already spiraling through logistics. Should I go back to work? Face James and pretend nothing happened? Or should I quit—just walk away?

*But either way, I have to go to the office,* I realized.

The thought of walking back into that building and meeting James Hayes made my stomach clench, but I forced myself to move. Shower. Get dressed. One step at a time.

I could do this. I would do this.

I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs. And stopped short.

Daniel sat at the kitchen island, still in casual clothes—dark gray henley and jeans—a cup of coffee beside his laptop.

He looked up as I entered, his expression carefully neutral.

"You're home," I said stupidly. "I thought you'd be at the hospital."

"I cleared my morning schedule." He closed the laptop with a quiet click. "Wanted to make sure you were all right."

Something warm and uncomfortable twisted in my chest. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know. Just I want." He studied me for a moment, taking in my work attire, the bag clutched in my hand. "You're going in."

It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. "I have to. Even if I..." I swallowed. "Even if I decide not to go back, I need to get my things. Talk to Jane."

Something softened in his expression—approval, maybe, or respect.

"I knew you would." He stood, reaching for his car keys on the counter. "You're braver than you give yourself credit for. Come on, I'll drive you."

"I can—"

"Emma." His voice was gentle but firm. "I know you can handle this. " He paused, holding my gaze. "But you don't have to handle it alone. Not anymore."

The words settled over me like a blanket—warm, solid, steadying.

"Okay," I whispered.

---

Twenty minutes later, Daniel pulled the Maybach to the curb in front of the company building.

I sat motionless, hands gripping the strap of my bag.

"Emma." Daniel's voice drew my attention. "Whatever you decide in there—stay or leave—I support you. Completely."

I turned to look at him. His expression was steady, certain in a way that made something in my chest loosen.

"Thank you," I managed.

"I'll pick you up when you're done. Text me."

I nodded, taking a deep breath before reaching for the door handle.

The elevator ride to the office felt interminable.

My reflection in the polished brass doors showed a woman who looked far more composed than she felt.

The elevator chimed at the seventh floor. I stepped out, shoulders back, chin up.

The office looked exactly as it always did—rows of desks bathed in fluorescent light, the constant clatter of keyboards, the smell of burned coffee and printer ink. Normal. Mundane.

Except nothing felt normal anymore.

"Emma!"

I turned to find Lily rushing toward me, her face flushed and anxious. She grabbed my arm, pulling me aside from the main corridor.

"Oh my god, Emma, I'm so sorry—did you hear?" Her words tumbled out in a rush.

My stomach dropped. "Hear what?"

"About James!" She lowered her voice, glancing around nervously. "He's gone. Fired. They escorted him out first thing this morning."

The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet. "What?"

"Apparently he's been..." She paused, her expression twisting with disgust and disbelief. "He's been harassing people for *years*. Interns, junior reporters. Someone finally reported him to HR and they found—god, Emma, I can't even—"

Her voice cracked slightly. "I thought he was brilliant. I recommended him to you. I told you that dinner would be good for your career, and all this time he turned out to be..." She spat the next words. "A predator. A creep who abused his position."

She gripped my hand tightly, her eyes shining with guilt and anger. "I'm so sorry. You left that dinner early. Nothing happened, right? Please tell me nothing happened."

My throat went dry. The concern in her eyes was so genuine, so worried.

I could lie. Keep it buried, pretend it never happened.

But hadn't that been the problem all along? Too many people staying silent, protecting reputations instead of victims?

"Actually," I said quietly, "something did happen. That's why I left."

Lily's face went white. "What?"

I met her eyes steadily. "And Lily? Maybe stop putting people on pedestals just because they're successful. Credentials and bylines don't make someone a good person."

She nodded slowly, tears spilling over. "You're right."

"It's not your fault," I said, though part of me—a small, angry part—wanted to blame someone, anyone. "You didn't know."

Before Lily could respond, a voice called out behind us.

"Emma Johnson?"

We both turned. One of Jane's assistants stood a few feet away, tablet in hand, professional smile in place.

"Jane wants to see you in her office. Now, if you're available."