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“I told her…” She takes a shuddery breath. “I told her I wished she would die.”
I blink, sadness welling in my chest. Sadness for Emma.
“Oh, shit. Ems…”
Her face crumples, and she drops her head, a soft sob falling from her lips. “How could I have said that? What’s wrong with me? I made it happen.”
“No.” My voice is firm. Full of conviction. “Emma, no you didn’t. You were mad, and you said something you didn’t mean. I get why you blame yourself, but your mom knew you didn’t mean it. She knew. If she hadn’t gotten into an accident, she would’ve come back and you would’ve made up and everything would’ve been okay. It’s awful that her accident happened when it did, but that doesn’t undo all the great moments you two had. All the good times. All the love.”
She blinks at me, her eyes brimming with tears. She looks a little shocked. I’m a little shocked myself. I’m not usually all that good with words. But something about Emma brings it out in me. I could talk to her as long as it takes to make her understand this isn’t her fault.
“I…” She shakes her head. “I just don’t know if I can ever forgive myself.”
“Try, Ems. Pick something else to blame it on if you want to find a reason, but you can’t put this on yourself,” I say, bringing a hand to her cheek.
The way she looks into my eyes makes my heart melt. I want so badly to lean over and kiss her, but I know that it would be the worst timing on earth, so I let the urge pass.
“We should go,” Emma finally says, breaking the tension that hovers around us. But before she stands up, she grabs my hand again, threading her fingers through mine. “Thank you, Reese. I—thank you.”
“Of course, Ems. You can tell me anything, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” Her smile is soft and sweet, and more dazzling than all the stars in the sky.
Looking back on things, I still think there has to be a reason Emma confided that private heartbreak to me, and not the other guys. I guess I’m looking for meaning too, just like Emma was after her mom died.
I’m still gazing at her through the window, and I shake my head with a start.
Fuck. I probably look like some kind of stalker right now. But honestly, I need a moment to get my shit together before I face her. There have been so many things stirring up inside me since Emma came back, and I need time to process it all.
I never told the other guys about that night and what Emma said—not before she betrayed Trent, and not after.
I figured if Trent had that information, he would use it to utterly destroy her. What we did to her was bad enough. I couldn’t hand over her deepest, darkest secret to Trent, even if he is my blood brother. I knew, somewhere deep in my gut, that if that secret came to light, if it was used against Emma, it would break her. It could even kill her.
When she told me, I did the best I could to make her see that her mom’s death wasn’t her fault, and even so, she never really forgave herself. It’s a tender wound that’ll never fully heal, and knowing this secret feels like holding onto a piece of her soul.
I may be an asshole sometimes, but I don’t take that lightly.
The guys still don’t know, and I’m glad. It’s our little secret; Emma’s and mine. I’d like to think that ties us to each other, in some way.
Maybe it’s that thought that makes my feet move again, that sends me striding toward the door of the laundromat. I honestly considered going back to the house and giving Emma a reprieve—but I can’t. I’m drawn to her like a moth to a flame, even though as she, Trent, West, and I circle around each other, we all seem to get burned.
Besides, the washer and dryer at our place have been busted for weeks. The landlord keeps promising to fix them, but he’s been slacking.
Emma looks up as I enter, and the peaceful expression on her face immediately fades. Her posture stiffens, and a little line appears between her brows.
“I won’t bite.” I chuckle, walking up to set my basket down on a machine next to hers. But fuck, now that I say it, I realize I really would love to bite. And suck, and kiss, and all the rest of it.
“I didn’t think that you would,” Emma replies, looking away. Although it’s making her uncomfortable to have me so close to her, I don’t move away. She’s not running from me, so I haven’t set off her prey instinct yet. Good.
“You looked like you did.” I lift a brow, letting a little innuendo seep into my voice. Her cheeks flush a gorgeous pink color, but she ignores my comment.
?
??So, what are you doing here?”
I laugh, jerking my head toward the basket I just set down. “I’m doing my fucking laundry.”
“Right.” She chews on her lip, her blush deepening.
