Page 24 of Emil

His quiet acceptance settled the last of my nervousness about the evening. I carefully filled his plate, including salad and bread. That was when I realized I’d forgotten to put out glasses.

The realization froze me. How could I be so dumb to forget something like glasses? Even a kid would remember that. My breathing stuttered in my chest. I wanted to apologize, but the words stuck in my throat.

“Anders? Anders, tell me what’s wrong.”

Emil’s voice was firm and steady. He wasn’t asking. He was telling me, and I knew what to do with an order. I needed to follow it.

“Glasses. I forgot the glasses, and I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I was so stupid. Now I’ve ruined your dinner. I’m so sorry.”

The words spilled out of me, and while I recognized that my reaction to forgetting was over the top, I also knew what I’d said felt true. I had ruined dinner by not doing it correctly.

“Anders, listen to me.”

I nodded and tried to focus, but I could feel myself spiraling over the mistake. My hands were rooted to the table, and I was incapable of moving anything except my mouth as another apology forced its way out.

“Anders, listen to me. Dinner is not ruined. Everything is fine. You are not stupid. You are not allowed to say that about yourself.”

Emil’s hand covered mine on the table, and suddenly, the spiral slowed. The warmth of his hand grounded me. He didn’t do anything more than rest it over mine, but it was enough to pull me back from where my mind was headed. I worked hard to get my breathing under control, and Emil murmured, over and over, “Nothing is ruined. You’re not stupid.” He kept repeating the words, and I forced myself to listen to them.

After what felt like an eternity, my breathing returned close enough to normal that I could move again.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“You will not apologize for that. Nothing is ruined. The table is beautiful. We can fix this.”

“But you asked me to set the table, and I didn’t do it right.”

“Nobody gets to demand perfection, including me. I’m going to get the glasses, and then we’ll enjoy our dinner.”

I withdrew my hand from beneath his and folded it in my lap. Emil got up, grabbed the glasses, and returned to the table quickly and silently.

“Thank you,” I whispered when he set the carafe of water down on the table. “May I pour the water?”

“Please do.”

“Goodnight.”

Emil’s parting words echoed around me as I made my way back to the cottage. I could feel his eyes on me until I reached the door. When I turned around, he was still there. I raised my hand to say goodnight before letting myself inside. I glanced back once more through the window in the door, and it was only then that Emil turned and went back into the house.

After my meltdown at dinner, I hadn’t been sure how the evening would shake out, but Emil had carried on as if nothing had happened. We’d talked about the weather and things to do on the island, and he told me more about his sister. She sounded amazing, and I could hear the affection in his voice when he talked about her. Neither of us mentioned what had happened at the office or what was going to happen tomorrow, and I was glad for it. It was nice to spend an evening not thinking about any of it.

Now I was back in the cottage, and I had nothing but my own company. I puttered around the kitchen, prepping coffee for the morning and setting out a tray of tea just in case Emil preferred that instead. My laptop sat on the desk by one of the windows, ready for whatever task he sent me in the morning.

With nothing left to do in the main room, I retreated to the bedroom. I unpacked the rest of my belongings that I hadn’t gotten to earlier and hung them in the small closet, then spread my blanket out on the bed. It felt a little more homey, but it wasn’t home. My home didn’t exist anymore. Anywhere John was would never be somewhere I wanted to be again.

That thought was too much to keep circling, so I shut the door on it. I went to the bathroom and hopped in the shower. The pulsing showerhead managed to take my mind off the absolute shambles that was my life. I imagined the water washing away the mistakes I’d made over the last couple of years, most of them centered around John, but I refused to let myself rehash them tonight. If I did, I wouldn’t sleep at all.

After a quick shower, I returned to the bedroom and slipped under my heavy quilt. My phone, which I’d been ignoring all day, had more messages than I had the bandwidth to go through. I picked the ones that mattered most. There was the usual group chat nonsense and silliness, but the boys had also messaged me individually because they hadn’t heard from me all day.

Thank you again for helping me move my stuff into storage. I appreciate it. I stayed at my mom’s last night, but I’m on Almstead Island for a bit.

Anyway, I’ll explain everything in person because it’s too much to type. Love you, and I’m turning off my phone.

The boys all sent me heart emojis, but Rory’s name popped up.

Love of my life, can’t leave me hanging.

I thought that was Gabe.