I look between them. “Oh, you two know each other?”
I guess it’s not all that surprising considering they both have family here. But I can’t imagine Emmett socializing with the families of other residents.
The man pushes himself up from the bench.
“He’s my boss,” Emmett offers through a clenched jaw.
My stomach sours.
Of course he is. Today just couldn’t just give Emmett one impossible thing to handle. It has to keep stacking them up. The universe put the one person he probably doesn’t want seeing the cracks in his shield right in front of him on his worst day in a while.
Carl looks over Emmett in a way that tells me he cares, which makes it all that much worse.
Emmett doesn't know what to do with people who care when he can’t convince them he’s okay. And right now, he’s not okay, despite his outward attempts to appear otherwise.
“How’s Monica?” Carl asks.
Emmett’s attention moves back toward the building, his gaze lingering long enough that it warrants the concern swelling in my chest. “She fell this morning.”
His words are flat, almost like he’s stripping away the emotions so they won’t hurt as much.
Carl’s expression shifts. “Is she hurt?”
“No.” The answer comes quickly. “She’s fine.”
It doesn’t go unnoticed by me or Carl that he’s skirting the question.
I stand from the bench, rounding the back and going to Emmett. There’s a split second when my palm lands on his chest that he leans into the connection before he steps back.
Shocked, I drop my hand at my side. Hurt lances my chest as I struggle to make sense of what’s happening. It’s been a day, sure, but this feels like more than just a bad morning.
I wish I had water. My throat is suddenly drier than late summer tinder.
“What did the doctor say?” I ask.
His eyes meet mine. There’s so much there I can’t decode—sadness, longing, distance, all swirling in dark blue pools.
Emmett laughs bitterly. “Besides not to spend the good days waiting for bad ones?” He pushes his hand through his hard. It’s already messed up, as if his hands have been tugging on it since the doctor called him away. “Physically she’s okay, and while her fall isn’t a sign of disease progression by itself, things will get worse.”
“Oh, Em. I’m so sorry.”
“I knew this,” he says so quietly I almost miss it.
“Knowing something doesn’t make it easier to deal with when it sucks this hard.”
“Maybe, but I shouldn’t have let myself forget even for a second that this was always where things would end up.” His eyes lift to meet mine slowly. “It’s probably time for you to get going.”
I suck in a sharp breath at the sting of his words. “What?”
“Your shift, Aspen. You can’t just miss work for me.”
“Not your call,” I remind him.
Carl clears his throat from behind us.
Shit. I almost forgot he was there.
“I'm going to take my dad back inside.” His gaze lingers on Emmett a second longer. “Find me before you head out?”
