Trust Me - Sheryl Browne Page 0,33

he wasn’t about to move until she heard what he had to say. He took a breath. ‘I love you, Emily. Whatever it is you’re thinking I’ve done or am doing, please believe it isn’t true.’ He held his breath and waited.

Emily didn’t answer. She wouldn’t look at him either.

Jake felt his heart sink. Where was this leading? What would he do if she announced she wanted a separation? A divorce? Jesus, he couldn’t handle that. He couldn’t have nothing in his life but work. His father, who he actually wished had never been part of his life. The thought of working here without Emily alongside him caused his heart to plummet to the pit of his stomach.

‘I love my kids, too, more than anything. I need you in my life, all of you,’ he said gruffly. He wished she would say something, anything. ‘I don’t understand, Em. I really don’t.’ Swallowing back a jagged knot in his throat, he took a step towards her. ‘Knowing what you know about me, do you honestly think I would do anything to put my family in jeopardy?’

Still she didn’t answer.

‘Look at me, Emily,’ he implored her, his voice catching.

She seemed to prevaricate, and then lifted her head, meeting his gaze at last. Her cheeks were flushed, her wide blue eyes shiny with tears.

‘Em? Please believe me,’ he begged her. He was flailing. There was nothing else he could think of to say to convince her. He couldn’t bear to see her like this, so down and flat. He was scared.

Her eyes flicked away. ‘I know you love Millie and Ben,’ she said eventually. ‘I thought I knew you loved me, but …’

‘I do.’ Jake took another step towards her. ‘I’ve always loved you. You must know that.’

‘But how can I?’ Emily took a step back. ‘How can I know that you’re not relying on me believing you could never be like your father in order to cover your tracks?’

‘You know me, Emily,’ he tried. ‘Probably better than I do myself. I hate what he did. What he is. I would rather cut my throat than be like him.’

‘But you might not be able to help yourself.’ She searched his eyes, her own full of confusion.

Jake ran a hand over his neck. She didn’t believe him. ‘Right, so you really do think I would throw all we have away for … what? An affair with a married woman? One of my patients?’ He looked at her in astonishment.

Emily dropped her gaze, indicating that she did, clearly.

‘And the basis of this is that you think I’m like my father?’ he asked tiredly.

‘No,’ she answered quickly. ‘Not just that.’

He tipped his head to one side, eyeing her curiously. ‘There’s something else then?’

She hesitated. ‘You were seeing someone before,’ she said, her voice small, her eyes still cast down.

‘What?’ Now Jake was truly astonished. ‘When? I’ve never seen anyone else. I’ve never even so much as looked—’

‘Before we were married,’ Emily blurted. ‘I saw you in the bar with her.’

He shook his head. ‘You have to be joking,’ he said, feeling physically winded.

‘You said it was nothing …’

‘It was nothing.’ He wondered if he was hearing her right. He didn’t even remember it, for Christ’s—

‘And I believed you. And then you proposed to me, and I thought that maybe you felt pressurised and …’

‘Because I bloody well loved you,’ Jake said vehemently as she trailed off. ‘I wanted to be with you. Have you honestly been dwelling on this all these years? Imagining I was … what? A serial adulterer?’

‘No.’ Emily denied it, her cheeks flushing hotly. Then, ‘I don’t know,’ she murmured, her eyes travelling down again. ‘You’re always working late.’

Jake pressed his thumb and forefinger hard against his forehead. ‘Because I have to. You know how much there is to do.’

‘Every single night?’ she challenged him. ‘You go off to call-outs without telling me—’

‘Right,’ he interrupted, his frustration growing. ‘So you’re saying that you think I’ve been using patient call-outs as some kind of cover-up for an affair? With Natasha Jameson, the wife of a mutual friend? A good friend? Christ, Emily …’

‘Don’t look at me as if I’m mad,’ she snapped. ‘You obviously have been attracted to other women, looked at other women. Whether or not it was before we were married, you were seeing me at the time, Jake. Or supposed to be.’

‘Except that you didn’t appear to want to see me,’ he reminded her, now utterly despairing.

‘I explained all that. I’d