Chapter 13: The morning after
The first sliver of gray dawn found Kai already awake, her body thrumming with a restless energy that had nothing to do with sleep. She lay perfectly still, hyper-aware of the warmth at her back, the gentle weight of Emma’s arm still draped over her waist. The memory of the night was a live wire in the room, buzzing just beneath the surface of every breath.
She needed to move.
With the precision of a thief, she extracted herself from the bed, from the warmth, from the terrifying comfort of it. Emma murmured in her sleep, her hand flexing on the empty sheets, but didn’t wake. Kai pulled on running clothes, the fabric a welcome, impersonal shield against her skin. She slipped out of the room, the click of the latch sounding like a gunshot in the silent hallway.
She ran. Pounding the pavement through the waking city, she pushed her body until her lungs burned and her muscles screamed, trying to outpace the ghost of Emma’s lips on hers. The kiss replayed in her mind, a fragmented, sensory loop: the softness, the desperate sound Emma had made, the way her own body had responded before her mind had violently intervened. She focused on the slap of her sneakers on concrete, the smell of exhaust and baking bread, anything to drown out the feeling.
When she returned, sweat-damp and physically spent, the room was filled with the distinct, alert silence of someone else being awake. Emma was sitting up in bed, scrolling through her phone, a cup of hotel coffee steaming on the nightstand. She looked up as Kai entered. Her expression was unreadable, a carefully constructed neutral.
“Hey,” Emma said, her voice a little rough with sleep.
“Hey.” Kai bent over, pretending to adjust her laces, hiding her face. “I went for a run.”
“I see that.” A pause. “There’s coffee in the pot.”
The normalcy of it was excruciating. Kai grabbed her towel and toiletries. “I’m just going to jump in the shower.”
She stood under the spray, the water as hot as she could bear it, washing away the sweat and the city grime. It did nothing to cleanse the feeling of Emma’s hand on her jaw. She dressed slowly, pulling on tailored slacks and a simple cashmere sweater, assembling the armor of Kai Johnson. She brushed her hair, applied a light touch of makeup, her hands steady through sheer force of will. She could do this. She could put it back in the box. It was a moment of weakness, a crack in the facade, nothing more.
She opened the bathroom door, a cloud of steam billowing out into the room. Emma was now standing by the window, looking down at the street below.
A sharp, confident knock sounded at the door.
Both of them froze.
Before Kai could react, Emma moved, crossing the room with a fluid ease that seemed both casual and deliberate. She pulled the door open.
Allan stood there, impeccably dressed in a crisp button-down and dark jeans, a easy smile on his face and a cardboard tray holding three coffees in his hands. “Morning, ladies. I come bearing caffeine—” His eyes slid past Emma, finding Kai. “Kai! There you are.”
He stepped into the room as if he owned it, his presence immediately filling the space, pushing the fragile, early-morning tension into the corners. He walked straight to Kai, leaned in, and pressed a firm, familiar kiss to her lips.
It was dry. Correct. It tasted of mint and expensive coffee.
Kai’s body went rigid. Her eyes, wide open, flickered over his shoulder to where Emma still stood by the open door, watching. Emma’s face was a perfect, chilling blank.
“I remembered you like the oat milk latte,” Allan said, pulling back and handing her one of the cups, his smile warm and oblivious. He turned, finally acknowledging Emma. “And a black coffee for you, Emma. Though I’m sure it’s not as good as whatever hipster place you’d normally go to.”
Emma took the coffee he offered. “You’re a lifesaver, Allan,” she said, her voice light, amused. The performance was flawless. “I was running on fumes.” She brought the cup to her lips, her eyes meeting Kai’s over the rim. They were dark, unreadable pools.
“So,” Allan said, slinging an arm around Kai’s shoulders, pulling her into his side. She let him, the weight of his arm feeling like a chain. “I was thinking we could all get breakfast. The hotel does a fantastic eggs benedict. My treat.”
“Sounds great,” Emma said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. She took a long sip of her coffee. “I’m starving.”
Kai stood trapped between the solid, presumptive weight of Allan and the silent, searing accusation in Emma’s gaze. The coffee cup in her hand was scalding hot, but she barely felt it. The taste of Allan’s kiss was a film over her lips, a bland erasure trying to overwrite a memory that had already branded itself into her skin.
She took a small, deliberate sip of her latte. It was perfectly sweet, exactly as she liked it. It tasted like nothing at all.
The silence in the room was a thin, brittle thing. Allan’s arm was a lead weight around her shoulders. “I’ll just grab my bag,” Kai managed, her voice sounding distant and strange to her own ears. She needed space, air, anything to break the suffocating pressure building behind her ribs.
Emma placed her unfinished coffee on the desk with a definitive click. “You know, Allan, why don’t you go down and snag us a table?” she suggested, her tone effortlessly light. “I heard the place fills up fast. We’ll be right behind you.”
“Good thinking,” Allan said, giving Kai’s shoulder a final squeeze before releasing her. He shot her a warm, confident smile, completely blind to the wreckage he was standing in. “Don’t be long.” The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that rushed in was deafening.
Kai stood frozen, her back to Emma, staring at the patterned hotel carpet. Her heart was a frantic drum against her sternum. She could feel Emma’s gaze on her, patient and unbearable.
“Kai.” Emma’s voice was soft, but it cut through the static in her head. “You need to calm down.”
“I am calm,” Kai lied, her voice tight. She finally turned, and the concern in Emma’s eyes was somehow worse than anger.
“Look, about last night… it’s okay,” Emma said, her words measured and careful. She took a small step closer, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans. “It was a lot. If you didn’t like it, that’s fine. We can just forget it.”
Something snapped.
The careful composure Kai had glued together in the shower shattered into a thousand pieces. That casual permission to forget, to dismiss the most real thing that had ever happened to her, felt like a rejection far more brutal than any anger could be.
She crossed the space between them in two swift steps.
She didn’t hesitate. She framed Emma’s face with her hands and crushed their mouths together. This kiss was nothing like the first tentative one in the dark. It was desperate, full of a raw, starving need, a silent scream against the world trying to tell her what she was allowed to feel. Emma made a soft sound of surprise, then her hands were on Kai’s waist, pulling her closer, answering the kiss with a deep, unwavering certainty.
Emma was always okay with Kai kissing her.
But just as quickly, the fear came flooding back, cold and paralyzing. Kai tore her lips away, stumbling back a step as if burned. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, her chest heaving. The hurt in Emma’s eyes was immediate and devastating, a fresh wound layered over the old one.
“We should… we should go downstairs,” Emma said, her voice husky. She smoothed down her shirt, a shaky attempt to reclaim normalcy.
Kai could only nod, her own breath catching in a sob she refused to release.
Emma walked to the door, but paused with her hand on the knob. She didn’t look back, her voice low but clear, carrying across the room. “Just so you know, everything is okay.” She finally turned her head, her gaze steady and impossibly soft. “I’m okay. And I’ll wait for you, Kai. However long it takes.”
Then she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, leaving Kai alone with the ghost of her touch and the staggering weight of that promise.
Kai stood rooted to the spot, the hotel room door swinging shut echoing in the silence. Emma’s words—I’ll wait for you—hung in the air, a promise that felt more like a verdict. She glanced at her reflection in the dark television screen, a distorted figure who had just kissed one person and been kissed by another within minutes. The taste of Allan’s mouth was a bland film over the memory of Emma’s.
She had to move. Grabbing her bag, she hurried out into the hallway. Emma was already at the far end, pressing the button for the elevator. The soft ding sounded like a starting pistol. Kai’s heels clicked on the polished floor as she walked faster, each step a beat in the frantic rhythm of her heart.
Emma stepped into the elevator but held the door, her expression unreadable as she watched Kai approach. Kai slipped inside just as the doors began to close, the confined space suddenly thick with the jasmine scent of Emma’s shampoo and the tension from the room. They stood shoulder to shoulder, staring at their distorted reflections in the brushed metal doors.
The elevator began its descent with a gentle lurch. Kai watched the floor numbers light up, each one a countdown to the restaurant, to Allan, to the performance she had to give. The silence was unbearable, a physical weight pressing in on her. She couldn’t let this sit between them, not now.
“Emma,” she started, her voice barely a whisper. She cleared her throat, forcing the words out. “About before… I’m sorry.”
Emma’s hand shot out, her fingers smacking the large red emergency stop button. The elevator jerked to a halt with a jarring clunk, the lights flickering for a second before steadying. The sudden silence was absolute, broken only by the hum of stalled machinery.
“Don’t,” Emma said, her voice low and firm. She turned to face Kai, her eyes sharp and intense. “Don’t you ever apologize for kissing me again.”
Kai opened her mouth, but Emma cut her off. “The only thing you should ever be sorry for is not kissing me.” The words hung in the stale air, a direct challenge. “Sorry for pulling away. Sorry for pretending it didn’t happen. Sorry for letting him put his mouth on you when you’d rather it was mine.”
The raw honesty was a gut punch, stripping away every defense Kai had built. For a terrifying, freeing second, the truth hovered on her lips. I’m scared. I want you. I don’t know how to do this. She could feel the words forming, a confession that would change everything.
But the image of her father’s stern face flashed behind her eyes, the weight of a lifetime of expectations crashing down. The moment passed. She swallowed the confession, feeling it settle like a stone in her stomach. Her hand trembling, she reached out and hit the button, restarting the elevator with another lurch.
The doors slid open onto the bustling hotel lobby. Without a word, Emma stepped out, her posture straight and resolved. Kai followed, the unspoken words a hollow ache in her chest as they made their way toward the restaurant where Allan was waiting, a smile already spreading across his face as he stood to greet them.