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“Our moms drilled into us that we aren't supposed to give up in any capacity when the going gets tough. Sounds like you're giving up somewhere, Eva. You both deserve better than that.”
“You're younger than me, you're not supposed to be wiser.”
Glen laughs. We watch the movie before falling asleep.
I hear a knock on the door, but I just roll over. The bed dips, someone curses, and then I hear a voice that wakes me up rather quickly.
“Hey, Glen,” Emerson says.
However, since I don't really wake up quickly in the morning, I end up rolling onto my back and try to keep my eyes open as I peer toward the door. “Emerson?”
“Eva? What are you doing here?”
“She slept over,” Glen answers. “Sorry, I overslept. Give me ten minutes and I'll be ready.”
“Ready for what?” I ask, sitting up.
“We're going out for breakfast before class,” Glen explains.
“You're going on a date with my boyfriend?”
Emerson sits down on the edge of the bed while Glen shakes his head at me, grabs clothes, and disappears for the bathroom. I fall back onto the bed and groan when I realize I need to get up, too.
“How'd you end up here?” Emerson asks, looking down at his hands in his lap.
“Catherine was with her boyfriend when I showed up, so I came here.” I move so I can sit next to him and rest my head on his shoulder. “Sorry for yesterday, Emerson.”
“Care to explain what happened?” He takes my hand in his.
“I rather move on and forget it.”
“And I rather want to know what made you run from me, Eva.”
Crap. I lift my head to look at him. “Can you let this one go if I promise it won't happen again? I just got lost inside my head. I'm not above begging, Emerson.” I give him a small smile, hoping it'll help.
Glen returns to the room, but Emerson pays him no attention. He's studying me too intently.
“Ready?” Glen asks.
“Text me and we'll have lunch,” Emerson tells me, standing. He kisses me softly before he and Glen head out.
I hurry to get ready for my own class. Based on the appearance of the other bed, Glen's roomie had a successful date because it doesn't appear as if he came home last night. I want to be out of here before he comes back. When I make it to my dorm, no one is there and I'm relieved. The last thing I need is to interrupt morning sex.
My thoughts drift off as I get ready for my first class and go about my day. Glen was right. I gave up somewhere. I keep looking at my relationship with Emerson as if it'll inevitably end because of Kelly. How ironic that, in a way, I've doomed us instead of her. Do I not truly trust Emerson and what he says to me? Or do I, but my trust in him is overshadowed by how uncomfortable it makes me that he's talking to her?
I mean, who wants their boyfriend talking to an ex? No one! Plus, she wants something from him, I know it, but I don't know what she wants. That bothers me too. But it doesn't matter if I don't like it because I won't say anything yet. I want Emerson to close the door on his past once and for all and I'm not sure he can do that if I intervene. I'll hold out until I can't stand it any more. Then, I'll talk to him and see what happens.
For now, I need to convince him to leave well enough alone concerning my behavior yesterday. We're meeting at Smitty's, of course. Emerson eats here like once a week. I'm standing outside the entrance with my arms wrapped around myself, waiting for him to show up. The weather has finally started cooling down as we transition into fall. The air is chilly, especially with the breeze, and I wish I had brought a light jacket. At least I'm wearing jeans.
The familiar rumble of a truck's engine causes me to glance toward the entry of the parking lot. I've never been happier to see Sweet Irene. A thought hits me, causing me to hurry over to where Emerson parked. When he opens the door, I ask, “Don't you keep a hoodie in the backseat?” If I'm not mistaken, he told me once that he keeps one in there once the weather starts getting colder, just in case.
“Yeah,” he says, reaching back to grab it.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” I take it from him, giving him a quick kiss before I slip into it. “My teeth were about to start chattering.”
Emerson laughs. “You get cold too easily.” He starts laughing harder as he shuts his door and locks the truck.
“What?”
