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Turning around, I see Emily now sitting on the couch, the gun in front of her on the coffee table. I go and sit down next to her, pulling her into my arms. She comes willingly, thank God.
Holding her head to my chest, I wait for her to say something. After a few minutes, she speaks, but doesn’t move. “Josh, I’m scared,” she says so quietly.
“What are you scared of, Emmy?” I ask, wanting to slay all of her fucking demons.
“I’m scared I’m not going to be able to let you go again when the time comes.”
“That time’s never going to come, Emmy. I’m not letting you go.” I kiss the top of her head.
“You’ll think differently soon. I’m not the same person I was in high school.”
“I’ll never think any differently of you than how I already do, than what I always have. You are perfection, Emily.”
“I hope you’re right,” she whispers.
“I know I am. I am very rarely wrong, you know.” I smile.
“In your head, maybe. But you were very wrong that time you thought I was dating Jimmy. You scared the poor kid out of school.”
“I did, didn’t I? And if you weren’t dating him, then why the fuck did he think he could put his arm around you constantly?”
“He did that one time, Josh. And I was certainly not dating him. He was way more into you than me.” She laughs.
“What?”
“He was gay. As in, had a bigger crush on you than I did back then.”
“Wait, you had a crush on me? How did I not know that?” I ask sarcastically.
Sam walks back into the apartment and heads straight to the kitchen. As he passes us, he yells out to me, “If you don’t bring her in here to eat, I’m going to bring the food to her.”
Emily’s head pops up; her eyebrows draw down. “Does he have a weird food fetish I should be aware of?”
I laugh. “No, he’s just trying to win you over. He’s afraid if he doesn’t, I’m gonna end up shooting him or something.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I’ll be nicer to him, put his mind at ease,” she says as she jumps off my lap.
“Where are you going?”
“To eat. I’m starving.” She heads into the kitchen.
I enter right behind her. Sam places a plate of food down on the bench next to my half-eaten meal.
“Do you want a drink, Emily?” he asks her.
“Ah, sure, water’s fine.” Emily says, looking between the two of us. She smirks at me before walking up to Sam, who hands her a bottle of water.
She wraps her arms around him. “Thank you so much, Sam. I can’t believe how good this food smells.”
Sam eyes me. Holding his hands out to the side, he doesn’t return the hug. But that doesn’t deter Emily from attempting to push my buttons, even though I know what she’s doing.
“I don’t think anyone’s ever cooked for me before,” she says.
“I made you cookies that one time in year eleven,” I remind her.
She spins around, folding her arms over her chest. “That was you? Of course, it was you. Who else would give me Valentine’s Day cookies that were full of laxatives!”
“I saved you from a disastrous date with Matthew. I heard he was trying to take you out to the old rock. You know, people only went there for one reason, Emmy,” I tell her.
