Page 64 of The Sound of Harmony

ChapterSeventeen

Emma’s hour of therapy was almost over before she told Jen about spending the night at Kendrick’s. Usually, she had no trouble organizing her thoughts, but today, everything seemed equally important and it all came out in a jumbled timeline that she then had to go back and straighten. Once she did, Jen wanted to talk about emotional safety.

“I remember we left off there last time,” Jen said.

“I felt safe with him,” Emma said. “Until this morning.”

“What happened this morning?”

“I was unpacking his kitchen and he caught me singing.”

“What song was it?”

Emma waved an exasperated hand. “Some dumb thing I made up. That’s not the point.”

“How were you feeling this morning?” Jen asked in her careful therapist’s voice.

Emma had woken up before Kendrick, and spent a long time listening to him breathe. He looked so peaceful in his bed, so completely at home, she couldn’t bear to wake him. She’d crept downstairs, and there were boxes and boxes, all of them jumbled together. And she’d liked that too. She felt effective and capable while unloading each one.

She smiled fondly. “I’m good at my job. I know I am. And I had all this restless energy. I needed to move. So I opened the front and back doors, and started unpacking.”

“Restless energy?” Jen asked. “Or nervous energy?”

“I was fine,” Emma insisted.

“It was sixty degrees this morning,” Jen said. “Why did you open the doors?”

“Kendrick and I talked about that.”

“And?”

“I didn’t have to explain,” Emma said. “He gets me. And he accepts me. He listens to me. He believes in me.”

“And that’s new for you,” Jen said.

“Oh yeah. Aren’t most men all about themselves?”

“Not all of them.”

Emma ran her hands over the arms of the chair. It was true. Kendrick cared about her. She could get used to this. Maybe. “This one keeps me on my toes, though. I need to be careful. Singing, Jen. I was singing.”

Jen didn’t comment.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Emma said. When she’d divorced Jonah, she’d walked away from everything. She didn’t want his money or his fame. And she certainly didn’t want the songs they wrote together. Her name wasn’t on any of them anyway, so what difference did it make? She was done with all of it.

“I was wondering if perhaps you wanted Kendrick to hear,” Jen said.

“What? No.” Emma reared back in the chair and put a palm out. How could Jen not get this? “Why would I want him to hear?”

“How long did you say he was staying in Cannondale?”

The timer on Jen’s desk chimed. Their session was over. Emma stood to go.

“We’ll pick this up next time,” Jen said.

Emma left the office and took the stairs down to street level. As usual after therapy, she had a lot on her mind, and she was absolutely starving.

Talking about herself so much left her empty, and she didn’t feel like herself again until she’d filled up. She wasn’t eating her feelings so much as trying to feel more grounded. She used up all her words with Jen, and her emotions seemed to float out of her and disappear. It was too abstract. She needed something real—something she could touch and smell and taste. Preferably something with carbs. She headed toward Awake and Bake a block away.