Chapter 25

ASSHOLE!!!!

I want to scream it at him through the closed door; I’ve never had this wave of reaction toward Jake
before and I can’t control it. I’m beyond livid. I’m reeling, angry, and hysteria isn’t far away. I hate losing
control this way, every emotion bubbling to the surface like an angry volcano threatening to explode. I
know I need to bring myself down or else my life is over. He’s my BOSS!

I mastered this once I can do it again. I can push it all down and force it back into its black box. Put it all
back neatly and close the lid. Bring calm back to the surface and put the mask back on. Salvage
something before it’s too late.

But I can’t!

Because he knows!

Because he saw a sliver of my shameful wretched past and I’m devastated. He will see I’m a fraud, that
PA Emma, his number two is nothing more than a facade for a broken piece of worthlessness that men
liked to knock around and touch.

It makes me feel sick inside and I hurtle myself onto the bed amid a flurry of tears.

I hate crying, I don’t cry! I won’t give them my tears; I won’t let them have that from me. They took
everything else.

I roll on my back and take gasping gulps of air, swallowing them down painfully. Knowing I need to
control myself.

That’s right, Emma, breathe.



I hear myself telling teen Emma, as she lays on the floor of her Chicago room. That little voice talking
her through.

In … Out … In … Out … In ….Out. Slowly, and surely.

I force myself to focus on the light fitting on the ceiling above me and keep going. Knowing it helps.

In … Out … In … Out … In … That’s right, nice and steady.

I’m not in Chicago anymore, it’s okay now. I’m in control of this. I regulate my breathing to match my
count, bringing myself down from near hysterics. Drying my eyes.

In … Out … In … Out … Slower, bring it down a notch.

I’ve overcome this a million times, and I can do it again. I can fix this. I’m better than this.

In … Out … In … Out. Take deep breaths in … It’s getting easier.

In … Out … In … Out. Calmer, smoother breathing.

The tidal wave subsides slowly, and the blackness fades out. My lungs move easier, the heaviness
lifting, and I inhale deeply.

In … Out … In … Out.

Like a chant.

I’m in control … I’m not a child anymore. Ray is not here to hurt me.

In … Out … In.



The room around me is safe and still. No one can hurt me anymore. I’m stronger now. I’m more
capable. It’s not my life anymore.

In … Out …

The tears disperse fully, and I sniff back the remnants.

In.

Out.

The anger subsides and I’m left feeling raw and vulnerable. I stop chanting as I breathe fluidly. I’m back
in control and laying so very still. It’s easier than it used to be. I’m better at it and it takes less time now
than it used to; new Emma is laying on the bed staring at the ceiling and she’s remorseful. Logical,
clear thinking, back in full swing. Knowing what she has done.

I can’t leave it this way with Jake.

I screamed at my boss … my friend … I don’t know if I can face him again.

But if I don’t, it will only get more awkward. I may get fired. I don’t think Jake would fire me, but still.

He can’t work the espresso machine and coffee is his lifeline. A small smile tugs the corner of my
mouth as I picture him trying and the inner calm of my regained self pushes me to sit up. I’m ashamed
and embarrassed.

My iPad lights up on my side table, indicating I have an email and I catch Jake’s name from my
viewpoint. I lean across impulsively, sliding it over and pull it onto my lap. Opening the screen with a
tentative slide, I click on the email notification. Chest throbbing heavily.

Jake Carrero has sent you an iTunes gift.



I open the email, thinking back to the last time he gifted me a song, and my heart retracts a little in
pain. Remorse hitting me hard, nervous at what this may say.

Jake Carrero has gifted you:

“Please Forgive Me” by Bryan Adams.

A lump rises in my throat along with the threat of new tears, only this time they’re not in anger or
sadness. Jake is trying to make things okay with me and I can’t just ignore him. The swelling of my
heart at his attempt and his sweetness has me on the verge of breaking down. I need to claw back
some dignity and face him, let him see that I’m still the same Emma I was and maybe ask him to forget
this ever happened. That I’m not an insane psycho with a troubled past who screams at him and runs
away to hide.

Well, maybe I am.

I stand up and walk coyly to my door, shaking so lightly and open it quickly. Like ripping off a band-aid
and steadily walk into the sitting room. My emotions churning like mad.

He’s sitting on the couch, leaning forward with his cell in his hands. His powerful body tense and stiff
and he’s looking at the floor lost in thought. It’s his thinking pose, when he’s trying to choose a course
of action and I’m overcome with remorse.

I made Jake stressed. I did that.

Felicity is standing in the space by the door pulling on her shoes and glaring at him icily.

Maybe it wasn’t all me.



I wait until she slams out dramatically, expecting him to react but he stays focused on the floor lost in
his own head. She hadn’t even noticed me standing here.

Here goes!

I take a deep breath and walk toward him slowly and unsurely. I have no idea what I’m going to say as
we have never fought this way before. We argue and bicker and we have disagreements, but we have
never walked out on one another in rage. I glance at him shyly as I get to four feet away. Trembling.

“Jake?” I breathe softly, apprehensively. My voice startles him and his head snaps up. He must have
been lost deep in his thoughts and I catch the uncertainty in his eye.

“Hey,” he says warily. He looks so lost it physically hurts.

“I … umm …” This is harder than I thought it would be. I can’t look at him, so I turn my face to my right,
away from him, across the room trying to find a focus while I find the words. There’s a noise from the
couch and then I’m hauled into his arms, my head pulled against his chest with a warm hand cupping
my skull. He envelopes me in a bear hug and I’m too stunned to react. I stiffen at the alien-ness of it
and then slump with relief and accept his touch. Jake’s not mad at me anymore, we’re done fighting.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes into the top of my head, his face buried in my hair. My body completely
surrendering to the goodness of his embrace.

My touchy-feely boss!

I’ll have to forgive him again, for manhandling me, only this time it’s not that bad; it feels good and it
takes away all the anger and doubts inside of me. It seems to be restoring me to my former self.

“I’m sorry too.” The emotion catches in my throat, my voice breaking with hoarseness while I revel in
the feel of him.



Jake, my boss. Jake, my first real male friend. I don’t want to fight with him this way.

I’ve never been hugged like this by anyone. Not even my mother and it feels so safe, so unfamiliar, yet
so right. I close my eyes and allow myself to breathe him in; I wonder if that makes me weird. Freaky
Lisa comes to mind.

“I won’t push anymore.” His voice is still soft and warm above my head and my arms have slid around
his waist of their own accord. I’m holding him as tightly as he’s holding me. The realization makes me
feel awkward and embarrassed by the intimacy and I let go. I’m overstepping the mark. He senses my
reaction and releases me too, sheepishly we stand apart and I’m overcome with shyness.

Crap. This is new.

He shoves my shoulder like an adolescent and I know it’s to cover our awkwardness, so I shove him
back.

For a twenty-eight-year-old he sure knows how to revert to fifteen at times.

That gains me a Carrero grin and I shake my head at him, rolling my eyes, amazed at how easily we
can just get over it. It reminds me of how easily Sarah gets over things and I suddenly miss her.

He’s back in playful mode and for once it doesn’t irritate me, it relieves me. This is what I need.


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