~ part six ~
The hurt and confusion in George’s eyes when he’d said, “What?” had torn a hole in Em’s conscience. She saw those dark eyes staring at her across a chasm of sorrow.
Even though it had been a long day. Even though she’d laughed with John, Sam, and Mary on their way to work. Even though Bridget and Elizabeth had begged her to come for a spa day. Even though the day had been full of customers and employees and questions and problems and laughter.
Even though she hadn’t seen him since this morning, George’s dark eyes burned like an ember in her psyche.
She cursed herself for not dealing with this a hundred years or so before.
She knew he was furious because he’d taken special care to avoid her all day. When the store closed around ten, she made her way upstairs. She was standing in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water, when he came in.
“You were waiting in your office,” Em said.
“Of course,” George said.
“I . . .” Em started at the same time George said, “I . . .”
Em looked down, and away, from him. He turned his back to her.
“You . . .” George started at the same time Em said, “You’re . . .”
He walked out of the kitchen. She could tell by the sound that he’d plopped down on the couch. Not sure if she should follow him, she lingered in the kitchen. Finally, sick of her own nerves, she clicked on the electric kettle and went out into their living space.
“What?” she asked.
“What?” His voice rose. His eyebrows rose with insult.
“Right,” she said. “You’re clearly angry with me. What’s going on?”
“What’s going on?” he mumbled, almost to himself. He shook his head and looked up at her. “Are you truly this dense?”
“Dense?” Em asked. “What are you talking about?”
George patted the cushion beside him. Em scowled.
“I promise not to have a fit,” George said.
She hesitated. George had a terrible temper. Abusive only to her eardrums, he could storm around screaming for an hour before he was ready for any kind of a conversation.
“Really,” George said.
She sat down next to him. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes.
“Do you love me, Em?” George asked finally.
Suffer a Witch continues...