A short chapter but I wanted the focus to be on the answer everyone's been awaiting. Most of Chapter 11 is written so I'll upload that soon as well.

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A Decision Made

"Ema, are you sure you're okay?"

"Lana, I told you, I'm fine. Stop worrying."

"Then why are you asking so many questions about the house? Are you having difficulties maintaining it?"

"No, that's not it. I just wanted to know why Mom and Dad chose it."

"It was a house they could imagine us all being happy in. The neighbourhood was nice and safe, away from the city..."

"You love this house, Lana."

"I do. I'd never have left it but this job was just such a great opportunity at a fresh start. It's only knowing you can look after it that gives me comfort."

"..."

"Don't you like it there, Ema?"

"What? Of course I do! I love this house. It's all we have left of Mom and Dad."

"Ema—"

"Please don't ask if I'm okay again."

"I'm sorry, it's just that you sound pretty glum and—"

"The finances are fine and I love living here, it's comfortable. I'm just tired. I had a long day at work today."

"I can imagine. I saw the headlines. I hope you didn't have to deal with the paparazzi."

"..."

"Ema, these pregnant pauses are beginning to worry me."

"It's nothing. I just wish Mom and Dad were still with us."

"They are sweetheart. They're with us in our hearts. They're with you in that house."

"Yeah. I know."

"Listen, Joshua has to work this weekend and I don't. I'll come down and we can—"

"I'm working. Sorry. I'll let you know when I'm free, okay Sis?"

"...okay, if you're sure."

"I have to go Lana. Going to try and get some rest. I'll talk to you soon."

"Look after yourself, Ema."

"I will."

"Love you, darling."

"Love you too, Sis."

.'.

Ema hung up, put the phone aside and glanced around the living room, feeling a heaviness permeate her limbs. Her eyes roved over the warm colours of the walls her parents had painted, the tables they had picked, the rugs they had laid and she closed her eyes. She couldn't lose this house. She couldn't. It was saturated by their presence, trickling with their touch and echoing of their voices. They had worked hard to pay off the mortgage, to leave a safe haven for their daughters. Here, she felt warmest and safest.

As if sensing her distress, Aria crawled into Ema's lap, curling up across her legs. The detective looked down at the cat and blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. She had got herself into this mess. She'd grown complacent over Klavier's leniency with her and she'd made a stupid decision. She would have to face the consequences.

Ema looked at the clock.

It was 8:51.

.'.

"I do not recall having asked you for an opinion, Deston."

"I'm not going to wait around for you to ask either. Marriage is a huge step and you—"

"I am not a child. I am fully aware of what I am doing."

"You can't marry her to bury the current situation, K."

"Watch me."

"Have you gone mad?"

"Nein. Everything is in perfect working order."

"Marriage isn't a game, you idiot! It should be for more than revenge or—"

"I want to marry her."

"...what?"

"It is not just for revenge. I want her."

"Enough to spend your life with her?"

"Ja."

"So you do love her?"

"Do not misunderstand. The purpose of this marriage would be to resolve this... problem. It is just a happy coincidence that I also desire her."

"...does she want you?"

"Ja."

"You sound pretty sure of yourself."

"I am. She wants me. She simply won't admit it."

"Then I won't stop you."

"I know what I am doing."

"I hope so, K."

.'.

Klavier hit the button on the earpiece and pulled it off, flinging it on the seat beside him. He turned off the ignition, glancing at her house.

He was furious with her. He wanted her to understand how much she'd hurt him and despite all the apologies she'd showered him with, he didn't think she got it.

Though he had at first denied the surprise, it had eventually come, rocking him. What she had done had hit him and actually hurt him. Of all people, he'd thought Ema to understand his pain and loneliness the most; after all, their pasts were so similar. He'd considered her a friend, even a kindred soul, and the fact that she didn't think of him the same way was like an ache in his chest. He needed her to understand this pain. He would make her understand.

Klavier looked at the clock.

It was 8:57.

.'.

When the knock came, Ema was prepared. She walked to the front door calmly and pulled it open, unsurprised to find Klavier standing there. His expression was stony, his eyes cool with nothingness as he pierced her with a silent greeting.

"Come in," she said quietly.

He accepted her invitation without a word. Ema closed the door behind them and leaned against it, taking a moment to calm herself. Seeing him had set her heart racing with fear at the decision she'd made. However, by time he turned to face her, Ema had composed herself.

"Do you have an answer for me?"

She was glad he'd decided to cut right to the chase; who knew when cowardice would take over? "I have." Ema stared him in the eye with hardened resolve. "But first I want to say something."

Klavier was unperturbed. "The floor is yours."

"This house means everything to me," she told him. "My parents bought it."

"I am aware of that," he said.

Ema's expressionless façade crumbled momentarily. "And you'd still threaten to take it away from me?"

Klavier's mouth curled. "Ema," he said in a mocking tone, "do not act the victim. If I recall correctly — and I do because it was just this morning — it was you who attacked me. Your tantrum has cost me a lot more than my privacy."

Despite the barely concealed contempt in his voice, she pressed her lips together. It was true, she thought, looking into his unyieldingly cold face — she had been the one who started this. The past few hours alone had made her realise that even if Klavier had told someone about the kiss, she had overreacted. He'd trusted her with a secret and she had used it against him at the first opportunity. He was wrong in the way he had responded but really, she'd brought this on herself. Who could blame him for retaliating the way she, herself, had?

"My point," she continued, donning the mask again, "is that my sister and I worked really hard to keep this house after they died. So my decision has nothing to do with you. I admit that what I did was wrong but I don't care so much that I'd give this place up if I had the choice."

"A little honesty," he said with amusement. "How refreshing."

She ignored him. "I don't love you—"

"We established that the feeling — or the lack thereof — is mutual."

"—and I don't particularly like you either," she carried on as if he hadn't spoken. "I don't care if—"

"Fräulein," Klavier interrupted impatiently, his tone cool. "Save me the speech, bitte. I know all this already. I am here for an answer."

Ema stopped. The blond was watching her expectantly, his hands thrust in his pockets; he was standing tall and she recognised the pose though it was rare sight. It was reserved for those moments in court where the unpleasant realisation hit him that the witness he'd brought to win his case was going to turn on him.

"Will you or will you not marry me?"

For a moment — just that small moment of childishness that always came to her when she was angry — she had the urge to make a remark about this being the most unromantic proposal in the history of man, but realised the inappropriateness of such a remark. Ema squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye, her mind made up.

"Yes."

.'.

Klavier wasn't sure he'd heard right.

The fists he had clenched in his pockets slackened for a moment and his eyebrows shot up as he stared at Ema. "You will be my wife?"

He thought he saw her crossed arms tighten but her face remained impassive. "Yes, Klavier," she said as if talking to a child. "That's usually what a woman becomes when she agrees to marry a man."

The slight to his intellect flew right over his head; all of the arguments he'd gathered in his mind to convince her marrying him was the right way to go were made redundant in an instant and he cocked his head to the side, hoping the gesture would mask his surprise.

"I am pleased to hear it," he said as nonchalantly as he could. "I will make the arrangements."

"One more thing," Ema said, and he arched an eyebrow, intrigued by the suddenly uncomfortable look on her face.

"Yes?"

"I'll marry you to help you clear this mess up because I'm responsible for it," she said. "But I have two stipulations."

Klavier suppressed his curiosity. "Interesting."

"I don't want you to touch me," she said firmly. "I'll sleep in my own bed and you in yours."

Anger shot through him, piercing his ego like a steel-tipped arrow. "Fräulein," he all but sneered, "I believe you may be flattering yourself. I have no wish to-to—" he waved his hand as if he was looking for the right word "—ravish you."

Ema's face flushed but she didn't look away. "My second condition," she carried on without pausing to acknowledge his insult, "is that once this is over, you divorce me."

Klavier blanched at the words. "Absolutely not."

She looked incredulous. "Why not?"

"Because it would just give the media another reason to doubt the sanity of a Gavin," he said flatly. "I will not concede to it."

"But—"

"Ema," he cut across her, his eyes flashing. "Divorce will never be an option. If you try to divorce me, I will sue you anyway and the repercussions will be far greater."

She gaped at him, utterly taken aback by his fierce response. "W-Why would you—"

"If you wish to reconsider your choice, now is the time to do it."

"B-But what if we just divorced on mutual grounds?" she said desperately. "They wouldn't—"

"Yes they would. Besides," he added, his voice taking on an icy quality, "marriage is the only way I can ensure your eternal silence seeing as the only other option contradicts my very existence."

"Are you threatening me with murder?" Ema snapped.

"I am not," Klavier said, waving a hand lazily. "Do not waste our time with rhetorics, bitte. Now," he continued, without giving her a chance to respond, "does my no-divorce policy require you to reconsider your decision?"

Ema glared at him, knowing he was fully aware of the answer. "No."

"Good," he said, without skipping a beat. "I will make the arrangements. For tonight you may stay here."

Her face registered the shock he knew she would feel. It had occurred to him that she hadn't even thought about leaving her house but he hoped she realised there was no way he would let her remain apart from him.

"I will also make arrangements for somebody to maintain this house," he added, understanding her reaction but not giving her a chance to argue about it. "It is my belief you would not like somebody living here so it will remain untouched. All expenses will be taken care of as—"

"That's not necessary," Ema interrupted sharply. "It's my home. I'll deal with the expenses."

Despite that she had just unwittingly revealed her willingness to move in with him, he stared at her, his lips tightening against the annoyance that surged through him. He knew she would try and ascertain her independence wherever she could. She would try and remind him on every opportunity that she wanted nothing to do with him, that she hated him and despised her ties to him.

He would change that.

"Very well," he said, walking to the door. "I will prepare all that I can tonight and the rest can be taken care of in the next few days. And Fräulein…" he added, pulling open the door and glancing at her; she was staring at him with cold anger.

He smiled as he stepped out.

"You made the right decision."