![]() “I’m sorry I didn’t contact you about the funeral. I’m so sorry.”Įmma frowned, the pain slipping up to wrap around her. Then she leaned back, holding Emma away from her. “Emma.” His mother stepped forward, enveloping her in a huge, motherly hug, encompassing her in a cloud of strong, flowery perfume. The large, open foyer led to a sweeping staircase, on either side of which were tall archways that led to the rest of house. Where the exterior had been done in warm colors, the interior had been done in soothing pastels-soft yellow walls with white trim, lavender and gold accents and oak floors. ![]() ![]() The cheeriness of the house enveloped Emma. It’s freezing out there.” His mother stepped back, pulling the door open wide, then closed it behind them. “Well, no need to ring the bell, sweetheart, you’re welcome anytime. “Why on earth did you ring the doorbell?” Her eyes darted to Annie in the car seat, her brows knitting together in confusion, before she met his gaze. James smiled, polite, but warm before turning to Dillon. Dillon had obviously gotten his hair from his mother. She looked older than the last time Emma had seen her, the lines on her face more pronounced, but her short curly hair remained the exact same shade of dark brown it had always been. ![]() His mother stood on the other side, wearing a lilac pantsuit. When she turned back to the door, it opened. He laughed, and Emma smiled again in spite of herself. ![]()
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