The words hurt, because I can feel the shift that’s happened since the phone rang this morning. He’s not just worried about his grandmother, he’s rebuilding walls.
“But if you love him—and I think you do—just remember, there’s a difference between letting someone heal and walking away because healing is hard.”
I rub my sternum, my chest aching.
Giving up has never been in my nature.
“But how do you love someone who won’t accept it?” The question comes out quieter than I mean it to.
Connie leans against the wall, humming softly. “That’s the hard part.”
Not exactly the reassurance I was hoping for.
“You can’t force someone to believe they’re worth loving, Aspen.”
This woman knows Emmett better than most. If she’s going to listen, I’d be stupid not to ask her.
“Then what do you do?”
“You show up—tell them as often as they need to hear it, and give them the choice.”
She looks toward the room Emmett disappeared into.
“But at some point, they have to choose to believe you.”
Before I can respond, a call light flashes above a door down the hall.
Connie gives my arm a gentle squeeze.
“For what it’s worth, I think he’s closer than he realizes.”
Then, she leaves me standing there, with a truth I can’t make sense of.
I’m just a woman in love with a man who’s hurting.
And I have absolutely no idea how to make it better.
So I walk without a destination in mind. I just need air and space to think. Somehow, I end up behind the building, near the small pond outside Monica’s window, surrounded by benches and flowers.
The pond is still, the mountains reflecting back on the surface like nothing in the world has changed. It’s almost cruel how easily everything else keeps going.
Last night feels like a lifetime ago. The effects of the aurora are gone, so is the way Emmett was looking at me, like I was the first good thing the world had given him in years.
Let me be yours.
The memory wraps around my heart and squeezes. I know he meant it, because Emmett doesn’t give away pieces of himself he doesn’t mean.
And I think that’s the part that scares me the most.
Emmett would never set out to hurt me.
But I’ve gotten too comfortable convincing myself my needs can wait, adding more and more to my own shoulders because I want to be able to handle it all—keeping the peace in every part of my life. It’s easier that way—more convenient. But for who?
Jeremiah keeps crossing lines at work and I keep telling myself I'll deal with it later.
After this shift.
The next time he crosses a line.
