Chapter 89

“Teenage Emma, only less aggressive.” She shrugs. “And yet so much changed … emotional … open,
and honest … even warm.” She giggles with an apologetic expression.

“You make me sound like I was awful to be friends with.” I chide softly, guilt coursing through me again.
I lower my lashes, ashamed in a way that I’ve been this way toward her for so long. So blind to it.

“You have your charms, Ems … You’ve no idea the allure you have, even when you’re acting the ice
maiden.” She smiles. “There’s always a hint of something more in you … Like it’s just out of reach; I
can see why Jake would pursue it … That elusive prize, always dangling out there, that door sitting
ajar, waiting to be opened.” She grins at me, my face flushing with her version of how she sees me. It’s
so disconnected with who I am. Who I think I am, and my mind reels.

Is she right? Does Jake see something worth chasing, worth holding on for, and trying to figure out?

“My messed-up brain.” I grimace sadly, she smiles back at me gently. Her eyes softening with
understanding.

“Have you ever just come out and told him how you feel? He may surprise you.” She coaxes, placing a
hand over mine once again.

Why have I never done this? With Sarah I mean, this female bonding, sharing our problems, being real
and letting someone else figure out your heartbreak with you. That shoulder to lean on.

Because I’m incapable of showing people that I’m capable of being hurt, defensively protecting myself,
always hiding. Jake has stripped me of my armor, slowly and surely.

“It’s too hard.” I admit sadly. “I’m scared all the time, Sarah … Scared of what he’ll say … Scared of
what he’s thinking … feeling … He’s complicated, he sleeps around … He has women at every city we
go to, always at arm’s length … He doesn’t do love and I couldn’t bear his rejection.” The words slice



me open; I can’t think about these women he has sex with, the pain is too acute. She’s watching me
carefully, sipping her cocoa and thinking.

“You think he wants to be with that girl though; Marissa?”

“I don’t know, they have history … He seemed angry at her, but then he still brought her home with us
and left the airport with her.” the tears tug at my eyes and I push them down. I shift to cross my legs
under the throw and cradle my cup closer, in a bid to regain my equilibrium, feeling like the warmth is
soothing me somehow. I can’t analyze what is there between them, it’s too painful.

“How did he take the news about the baby?” she pushes gently, but I just shake my head and shrug, I
really am bewildered about all of that, I’ve barely let my brain process that whole mess.

“He didn’t seem happy … He closed up … Jake isn’t ready for that kind of commitment. He can’t even
commit to a girl, let alone a baby.” I sigh sadly.

Isn’t that where all my self-doubt comes from?

No … My self-doubt has always existed, always gnawing at me, reminding me how worthless I am, in
the grand scheme of things. Having a father reject you and a mother who eternally put her own needs
above you will do that to a person. I’m a broken mess.

I push it down hard, Sarah sighs heavily, mirroring how I feel; there isn’t anything much to say on this
subject. We’ve dissected it all endlessly through three cups of cocoa.

Finally, after a brief reflective silence, Sarah cuts in.

“Your mom keeps leaving messages on the answer machine … She knows you’re never here and I
know she has your cell number, so I guess she’s not actually trying to contact you directly.” She
pauses, hesitant for a second. “I spoke to her briefly, she’s doing well, her nurse is taking care of her.”



She smiles at me gently. Sarah text me this all before and hadn’t been surprised at my non-responses
to her messages. I remain impassive making it clear my feelings have not changed.

“Did she mention her new beau?” I grit my teeth and slide the mug on the table, full of too many hot
drinks with nausea rising. Sarah raises an eyebrow, then lets my comment pass. I haven’t told her
about Ray … About what happened in Chicago. I will, I promise myself to tell Sarah everything, just not
right now. This is all new to me, sharing … talking.

“Are you going to talk to her?” she asks instead, her bright blue eyes focused on my face. I’m avoiding
it, looking at my hands in my lap, and I shake my head.

How can I ever talk to her again? How can I ever go back there?

Ray … Sophie … My past … Her past. It’s one huge ball of string waiting to unravel, and I don’t have
the energy or the inclination to go there anymore. I have so many emotions about my mother, so much
conflict, love, and hate. It’s not something I can evaluate anytime soon. Especially not with all this new
chaos overtaking me.

“What about the little girl?” Sarah asks as though reading my mind. I briefly told her, via text, and the
odd call, about Sophie when all that happened.

“She’s doing well … She’s going through the process of being awarded a protection order, so she can
stay with her new family without fear of being returned home. Her father will be prosecuted. She’s in
counseling …” I sigh at Sarah. I have been keeping tabs on Sophie via Leila, Jake’s mother and via
Sophie herself, in email. Jake told me his brother seems to have taken her under his protective wing,
and she seems to trust him which is a good sign.

That damned Carrero charm.



“You did for her what someone should have done for you, Ems.” Sarah is so direct and spot on that I
snap my eyes to her, inhaling lightly. I want to deny it, want to brush it off like old Emma would, return
to cold and controlled, “no one hurts me”, but I don’t. I bite my lip, pushing away the force of emotion
and nod painfully.

“I know.” It sounds so sad it hurts me. Sarah’s eyes widen, moisture glazing them, she knows how hard
my acceptance is, how far I must have come to even admit this to her. She has seen the years of
denial, bravery, and fight in me. She knows me better than anyone in the world … Well maybe, except
for Jake. He has even carnal knowledge now.

“Promise me something.” She soothes with a shaky tone, a solitary tear rolling down her cheek.

“What?” Right now, I wouldn’t deny her anything. I’m responsible for her sadness, and it’s aching inside
of me.

“You won’t go back into hiding … I want you to talk to a professional … Take this further, Ems …
Regardless of what happens with Jake.” There’s bravery in her eye, she’s waiting for my reaction,
pushing to see if I really am old Emma after all. This is a request she’s made many times over the
years. The same one Jake made, which sent me into a rage and accused him of thinking me crazy. I
bristle, old Emma habits are hard to kill. I stiffen as the defensive response forms on my lips
impulsively, but I take a steadying breath, exhaling slowly to calm my reaction.

“I’ll think about it.” It’s all I can promise her, noting the elation in the depth of her eyes, the celebratory
smile at the realization that something huge has changed within me. I don’t think it’s something to be all
that happy about, but it is what it is.

Jake has ruined all that I was.

* * *



I help Sarah clean the apartment in companionable silence for the rest of the afternoon, we talked
ourselves out and there’s nothing more to say. I have so much to process on my own.

She keeps catching my eye and shaking her head at me in awe. I don’t think she can really accept that
this is how I am now, as though she keeps waiting on the old Emma to jump out and throw herself into
commandeering, emotionless mode, again. Pull out some tight tailoring and my iPad checklist. Her
attention unnerves me, but I don’t want to freeze her back out again, she deserves more. I deserve
more.

I keep checking my cell obsessively, but he doesn’t call or text; every time I see the blank screen, I die
a little more inside. I long for one of his song emails, a message, anything! I understand his silence,
she’ll be with him, he has a lot to think about, talk about; he’s mad at me, he’s overwhelmed. It doesn’t
make this any less painful and it feels like eternity.

I spend an hour going through emails and work files, before throwing my laptop aside listlessly. I’m
trying not to focus on him, on her, what we did. It’s like trying to turn back the tide in a way, and my
head is my own worst enemy. I can’t even begin to dwell on what the future holds, my job … Jake and
a baby … Seeing him again. like I’m in an alternate universe while sitting here in my own apartment,
yet it looks so different to me. The whole atmosphere has shifted since I opened up to Sarah. I feel like
I’m home for the first time since I moved here, that this place feels like a safe haven from the outside
world.


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