The first rays of sunlight were just beginning to peek over the horizon as James crept up the long driveway to the mansion. His footsteps crunched softly on the gravel as he approached the grand entrance, fumbling in his pocket for his keys. The cool morning air nipped at his face, a stark contrast to the warmth of where he'd spent the night.
Just as he was about to insert the key into the lock, a voice from inside made him freeze.
"James? Is that you?"
He cursed under his breath, his heart suddenly racing. Emma was awake.
Pushing open the door, James plastered on a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Hey, honey. You're up early."
Emma sat in an armchair in the dimly lit sitting room, still in her nightgown. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she hadn't slept, and her hair was disheveled. She looked small and vulnerable in the large chair.
"Where have you been?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The hurt in her tone was palpable.