Adam wouldn't let the conversation go. His overprotective drive had kicked in; and for once, it didn't make Emma feel special. Instead, she felt like she was suffocating under his consistent questions. One stab after the other, accusing her of secrets that she felt she had righteously hid. It was for their sake, she reasoned. But all the more, she didn't want to see how Adam would react. Losing his respect and trust could be infinitely worse than losing him altogether.
"You used to tell me everything," he said as Emma shied away from his accusatory gaze. "I haven't completely forgotten how to read you. So stop lying, Emma."
The first part of his statement was an exaggeration. They hid a fair amount of stories from each other. Not on purpose, never. It had always been an understandable situational issue. The timing wasn't never right, bringing up the topic only meant killing the mood, and for each other they had always wanted to be happy. So eventually their secrets were outdated facts, irrelevant to how either felt about each other. And if they resurfaced, they were merely jokes.
Emma felt the familiar rope of guilt twist her stomach into knots. She had a feeling that the old rules didn't apply anymore. There were just some things Adam couldn't protect her from. It wasn't like at random college party, or a weekend trip to Montreal where he could scare boys into leaving her alone. It wasn't an issue of reputation or respect either. It was a matter a fact of protecting the image of her that he wanted. The same girl as before. The girl she wanted to be. The less the worlds between Adam and Sylar collided the better.
Emma sighed as she poured hot water into her mug. Tea often calmed her nerves, allowing her to think and process reality.
"It's just a work trip. I promise there's nothing more."
She turned her back to face him. He might be able to guess from her voice that she was lying, but as long as he couldn't read her face, she felt stronger. Adam still read her expertly, even after a year of not seeing her. In her mind, it was just a testament to how little she had changed. She watched the tea bleed, releasing a dark brown hue into her cup, before dipping the bag several times. Emma gently swirled the cup in her hands to avoid using a spoon.
"A work trip with a pervert. How am I - "
Emma whipped around. The hot water scalded her hand, but she barely noticed.
"Don't call him that! I told you, he apologized. He was drunk, it was a mistake... It's over."
"So why can't you tell me where you are staying? At least get the name of your hotel?"
Adam wasn't the type to indulge spontaneous romantic gestures, but she didn't want to risk it. Not when he had repeatedly told her how special she was to him.
The conversation started to weigh heavily on her conscience. They were lying to each other. Already. Or rather she was lying to him, a habit she had never picked up before. Especially when it came to him.
Never in her life did she imagine their relationship having this kind of conflict. In fact, she never believed they would fight at all. She used to be the one who always took the moral high ground. It was how she lived her life.... until now. Adam would leave her, she was sure of that, or convince her to quit. But what then... depend on him for a living? He couldn't pay her financial dues that threatened to drain her life savings dry.
Emma gripped her cup as Adam waited for her to answer. He watched her unwaveringly with the patience of an interrogation officer. It only made her feel worse. He held so much respect for her in that regard, believing that her moral compass was straighter than most. There was even a warped sense of pride in himself. He would never let temporary insanity or desperation cloud his moral standards. He always found a loophole in the unspoken contract, dancing between the line of technically and actuality.
Adam sighed and leaned his long body back against the table. His face had aged strongly in certain areas, permanently leaving lines to predict his face as he smiled and frowned. Did she look the same to him? Ever so plain, ever so boring, the complete opposite of the girls he used to date. Those girls had been the kind boys wanted to climb to the rooftop and shout about. The kind that had other boys slapping his back in congratulations. The kind that had boys picking up their jaw from the floor...
She sipped her tea, trying to figure out the right words to calm his temper.
"You know I signed an NDA. I don't want to get fired."
It surprised her how easily these white lies came. The more she said it, the more she believed it... but if only Adam would too.
He scoffed. "Like I'm going to call the press and expose everything. You know how I feel about cameras, Emma."
She tried to look at him in the eyes, but he challenged her with an intensity that made her cheeks burn.
"I just don't want to get in trouble, you know - be that amateur who screws up."
Emma stared at her tea. She reached up to close a cabinet door. It was barely open and the sound of wood against wood made her jump.
"No, either you don't trust me. Or you're hiding something from me."
"I'm not!" she said a little too desperately. "Why would you think that?"
"I've know you better than anyone, Emma. I can tell when you're lying."
"We haven't seen each other for a year, Adam. I'm not the same, not some open book."
She felt his bitter laugh ring hollow in her ears. Just a while ago, his lips were leaving her breathless and the next he was back to walking the brotherly line of concern. One thing was for certain: Neither of them were prepared to navigate the changed current between them, the one from friendship to romance. She knew they were expecting a paradox of everything and nothing... everything from each other, and yet nothing from their own end.
