Chapter 8

Emily's POV

I scoffed for the umpteenth time as I sat in the restaurant waiting for Max, who was running late.

He had sent me a text to inform me of something which came up.

He was twenty minutes late already.

I drummed my manicured fingers on the table.

I was grateful for the text from Ceclia Wilson that informed me of her change of plans.

According to her, the groom would not be around. I was so glad that I did not have to go to the house that haunted me with bad memories that morning. It had been postponed to later that evening.

"Hey, Emily," Max greeted hastily, plopping into the chairs with a sigh.

"You're welcome," I drawled with a hint of sarcasm in my sweet voice.

I did not appreciate being delayed like that. I would have probably drawn up some designs to show to the bride if I did not have to be here as Max had pressured.

"I'm sorry I'm late. I had to finish up a couple of things at the office. It was urgent", he explained, and I nodded with a smile.

"Okay