“Okay.” Julia clapped her hands. “Winston. Bedtime.”
Sienna yawned. “I should probably turn in too.”
“Same,” Blair said.
Julia took the flashlight over to a cabinet, pulled out two more jar candles, and lit them. “There’s not much else we can do but sleep, is there?” She handed Emily a candle. “Use this to get to your room. Extra towels are under the sink in the bathroom across the hall if you need them. Patrick, I’ll set this candle in the living room for you.”
Emily, Blair, and Sienna said their good nights and headed to bed.
In Winston’s room, Emily put the candle on the dresser. Before she could do anything else, her phone lit up. She had a text from Will.
Have you signed the quitclaim deed yet, by chance?
Sienna looked over her shoulder and gave an annoyed groan.
Blair leaned in to have a look at the message. “Are you going to sign it?”
Emily’s throat closed up with emotion. “I battle myself,” she said with a wobbly voice. “Part of me hopes if I stall, that he’ll eventually come to his senses. But another part of me isn’t sure anymore if I want my old life back.”
“Would you even want to take him back?” Sienna asked.
Emily shrugged. “Sometimes I think that I want the him I had before everything happened. I want my old life.” Patrick’s grin floated into her mind, bringing with it a wave of confusion. “I don’t know how to be anyone other than Will’s fiancée. Who am I if I’m not Will-and-Emily?”
“Don’t sign it yet. Make him sweat.” Sienna plucked the phone out of her hand and set it on the dresser. “Em, you take the bathroom first.”
Pushing Will out of her mind, Emily picked her phone back up and turned on its light. Then she rummaged around for her pajamas, facial cleanser, and toothbrush. Once she had everything, she made her way to the bathroom. The rain sounded like a band relentlessly playing maracas. Now that it was quiet in the house, the torrent was all she could hear. The amount of rain that could make that much noise might sweep them away at any minute.
She splashed her face with warm water and lathered up a washcloth with facial cleanser. In the dark room, all by herself, exhaustion finally set in. Her eyes stung. She rinsed out the washcloth, folded it, and draped it over the edge of the sink. Then she changed out of her clothes and into her pajamas. Bundling her laundry in her arms, she opened the door to make her way back to the bedroom and slammed into a rock-hard chest.
“Oh!” She dropped her clothes in a heap at her feet.
“Sorry,” Patrick said.
They both leaned down to get the clothes and nearly collided once more. He stood up and let her gather her things, stepping out of the way, a blanket under his arm.
The two lingered awkwardly in the dark hallway, illuminated by the tiny light on her phone.
“Got everything you need?” he asked.
“Yeah. Thank you.”
“Sure.”
He turned, and she caught his arm, stopping him.
“And thank you for letting us stay over tonight. I don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t come by.”
He seemed startled by her gesture, but it was hard to tell in the low light. “It’s no problem.”
“Well, good night,” she said.
He looked down at her, a tick of silence falling between them. “Good night.”
Just then, her phone rang. In case Winston had already fallen asleep, she quickly answered it to avoid the noise.
“Em. Have you signed the form or not?” Will’s voice pierced her ear.
“I’m in the middle of a major storm right now,” she said, trying to keep her voice down.
