465 Convalescence

Emily didn’t say anything, but her mind was a mess.

“You don’t need to say so many sentimental things,” she replied softly. “For Meggie’s sake, I’ll go through with the wedding. Don’t worry.”

“But I don’t want a fake wedding,” Satan replied. “I want it to be real.”

The elevator stopped on the ground floor.

Emily stepped out first, and unlike the warmth of the room upstairs, cold snowflakes were now drifting down outside, and the air felt sharp against her skin, like knives slicing across her face.

Standing at the Hilton’s entrance, she asked, “Did you drive here?”

“I took a cab.”

“Did you sneak out again?”

Satan shrugged with a wry smile. “Dylan’s been keeping too close an eye on me.”

With no other option, Emily walked to the curb and flagged down a taxi for him, signaling for him to hurry up.

“To St. Mary’s Hospital, please,” she instructed, then turned back to him. “When you get there, have Dylan call me to let me know you arrived safely, okay?”