Once she arrived back at home, Emily threw on her favorite oversized sweater and a pair of old running shorts, poured a glass of wine, sat down on the couch, and cried for the first time in what seemed like forever. The last time she'd cried was after Tom was shot, but those were much different circumstances, and it hadn't been like this.
She didn't know what hurt worse: The heart-wrenching guilt she felt over the entire situation or knowing Aaron hated her for it.
Emily wanted him more than she would ever care to admit, but after the investigation, any possibility of a relationship with him was now nothing but a figment of her imagination.
Time seemed to run together as she sat there, and before she knew it, she'd been on the couch crying for 15 minutes.
Okay, Rhodes, this is getting pathetic.
She had only intended on sitting down, letting her tears out, then going to bed, but the waterworks just kept coming, and she couldn't find the motivation to get up.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
It was nearly midnight. Who the hell was at her door this late and why?
She wiped her tears, took a deep breath, and looked through the peephole.
Of all the people who could be standing at the door; Michael Jackson, Oprah, the Queen of England, none seemed any less likely than Aaron Shore.
Shit, she thought collapsing into the door. She really didn't want him to see her like this.
Reluctantly, Emily opened the door as far as the latch would allow.
"Aaron?" she croaked, her voice sore from crying.
"Hey," he said, giving a small smile when he saw half of her face through the crack of the door. "Got a minute?"
Emily shut the door, unlatched it, then opened it all the way. She leaned against the doorframe. She was so tired she worried she might fall over if she didn't.
Aaron opened his mouth to speak but Emily stopped him.
"Aaron, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for everything," she sighed, staring down at her hands, which were covered by the sleeves of her two-sizes-too-big sweater. The ends of the sleeves were balled up in her fists.
"Em, I came here to apologize. I should be the one saying sorry," Aaron said, stopping her from apologizing any further. He couldn't help but notice that she still looked perfect, even in a giant sweater and shorts, with puffy red eyes. "I wanted to apologize for everything I said. I was angry and I didn't mean any of it,"
"It's okay," she told him.
"How are you not absolutely pissed at me?" he chuckled in disbelief. "You have every right to be."
"After the hell I put you through, I probably deserved it," she sighed.
"God, no. You were just doing your job and I was being an asshole about it."
"And me doing my job cost you yours. I should've just asked you,"
"That doesn't mean you deserved to get yelled at,"
"So, you don't hate me?" Emily asked tentatively.
"Em, I don't think I could hate you if I tried," he said.
She gave a small, genuine smile, before doing the unexpected. Emily stepped forward, slipping her arms under his jacket and wrapping them around him, then burying her face in his chest.
Aaron was taken aback by her advances but decided to go with it, cautiously wrapping his arms around her. He felt more strongly about her than he had anyone ever before, but after the investigation, he figured she wanted nothing to do with him romantically, and he sometimes wondered if she ever had.
"I'm sorry," Emily whispered into his chest.
"I guess that makes two of us," he replied.
His embrace was warm and he smelled good. Emily never wanted to move, but she could feel herself falling asleep, so she slowly began to pull out of his arms. Their faces were so close together, and the next thing she knew, their lips were pressed against each others.
The first kiss was long and slow, and when it ended, they simply looked at each other.
"Yeah, apology accepted," she muttered, standing on her toes and throwing her arms around his neck, then crashing her lips into his.
They stood there for only a moment before Emily began to walk them back into her apartment on tiptoe, Aaron closing the door behind them. She felt his hands slide up the backs of her thighs and without warning, he picked her up. Emily broke the kiss with her giddy laughter, resting her forehead against his as he returned a grin.
"Down the hall, first door to your right," she whispered into his ear.
Aaron followed the directions, carrying her into the bedroom. He managed to take off his shoes in a record amount of time, all the while Emily was pulling off his jacket. He threw it onto the floor before lowering her onto the mattress before him.
It never ceased to amaze her how the rough, aggressive, Aaron Shore who could scare the shit out of any staffer, intern, or reporter, could be so gentle and soft in the way he kissed her.
He brought his hand up and cupped her face. Aaron kissed her everywhere, her lips, her neck, her eyelids, all while whispering sweet nothings and holding her like she was the most precious thing in the entire world. And to him, she was. In that moment, nothing on earth seemed to matter more than the beautiful girl in his arms. For now, she was his, and that was all he cared about.
Emily never thought in a million years that she'd be falling asleep in Aaron Shores arms, yet somehow, here she was, and she couldn't be any happier.