"I just don't know what else to do," I whisper.
There was a long pause. I couldn't look at him. The silence is heavy, but not cold.
Finally, he speak. "Okay."
I blink. "Okay?"
"I'll help you," he says with that same steady tone with a warm smile. "You don't need to beg."
I sat back in shock. "Why would you…?"
He shrugs. "You don't deserve what happens to you. And you're not the first person I see hit rock bottom in this city."
I swallow hard. "But still why go this far?"
He look at me for a long moment before answering. "Because if it were my sister, I'd want someone decent to help her and more over I don't need to know you to help. You just ask."
The words hit me harder than I expect. They were simple, but kind. No flirting. No conditions. Just… Honesty.
"Thank you," I say softly, meaning it more than I could explain.
He nod again, his gaze steady. "I've been looking for a housekeeper for my home. Would you be interested?"
I blink, surprised by the offer. "Sure, but… about my friend," I said, my voice soft as I look at him with concern.
"She'll have a job too," he reply without hesitation. "My friend is speaking with her now and I'm sure of it."
There's a calm confidence in his voice, like he's already taken care of everything. As if helping us isn't a burden, but something he simply chooses to do.
He reaches for the glass of water on the table and hands it to me. "Here. Drink this. You haven't eaten anything since yesterday and it's already noon."
I accept it with a small nod, the coolness of the glass grounding me more than I expect. I don't realize just how exhausted I am until this moment. Silently, I pick up my sandwich and begin to eat.
For a moment, we sit quietly. Only the sound of city from outside become a background between us.
Then I pause, sandwich halfway to my mouth. "You don't even know my name," I say suddenly glancing up at him.
He leans back slightly arms resting on the table. "I figured you'd tell me when you were ready."
I smile, this time a little brighter and putting my hand out for handshake.
"It's Leora Brown."
His lips curve slightly not quite a full smile, but enough to soften the sharp lines of his face. He reaches out and takes my hand gently in his. "Nice to meet you, Leora," he says, his voice low and warm.
"And you?"
He looks at me for a second, then says, "Emrys Walker."
The name settles between us like a secret I've been waiting to learn. But I thinking I have heard it somewhere. I don't why but I feel like I'm forgetting something important. As I wonder over my thought, he gently and softly squeezes my hand. It brings me back to reality.
"Well… thank you, Emrys. For everything."