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“Do, um, do you want me to cook you breakfast before you go?” I ask.
“Emmy, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m a grown-ass man, capable of getting my own food if I have to. If you want to cook, then by all means, go and cook. If not, then don’t. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to be doing,” he says as he brushes the hair away from my forehead.
“Okay,” I whisper. I’m just more confused now. I don’t know what the right thing to do is. Yesterday, I felt so confident. I felt almost like myself again. Then, today, I wake up as the girl who’s afraid to make her shadow appear on the wall the wrong way. I can’t keep up.
“Emmy?” Josh asks.
“Yeah?”
“Promise me you’ll be here when I get back.” His voice is husky and vulnerable.
“I promise that if I’m not here, it’s not because I didn’t want to stay. The only thing that could get me out of this apartment today is if I’m dragged out.” I give him the best I can offer.
“No one’s going to be dragging you out of here, Emmy. You can’t get up here without passing security and having the passcode, which I’ve just changed by the way. You are safe here.” As he talks, he pulls out his phone, firing off a few text messages.
I don’t bother to correct him. I know it’s only a matter of time before everything catches up with me. I just hope that I don’t end up destroying him in the process. I’m selfish to want to stay as long as I can. I know the longer I stick around, the harder it’s going to be when we get torn apart.
Josh puts his phone away and walks into his closet, coming back out with a shirt and sweats.
“You should definitely change into that,” I say, pointing at the clothes he’s holding. “It’s much more suitable attire.”
He smirks at me. “These are for you. I’m sure you don’t want to be naked when Ella arrives. Come on, I’ll make you coffee.”
I just stare at him. When was the last time someone made me coffee? I can’t even recall. I had coffee yesterday with Josh’s mum, but her chef made it. No wonder Josh doesn’t want me to cook for him. He’s grown up with five-star chefs cooking his every bloody meal. I’m such an idiot, thinking he’d want to eat anything I made.
“Sure,” I say as I climb out of bed and take the clothes into the bathroom.
Closing the door behind me, I lean against it and stare at my reflection in the mirror. It’s not until I’m alone, in this quiet space, that I let the tears fall. I’ve always been good at hiding my emotions and faking happiness. I’ve done it my whole life. But when I’m alone, I don’t need to pretend to be happy, to be normal.
As I look in the mirror, I don’t recognise the woman staring back at me. The bruising on my face has dimmed to a pale yellow. It won’t be much longer until it’s gone, although the scars will always be there, both physically and mentally.
I’m surprised Josh hasn’t asked about them yet. I know he sees the scars from the numerous stitches I’ve had. He’s licked and kissed over them, but hasn’t asked.
Wiping the tears from my face, I freshen myself up and get dressed in Josh’s clothes. I can smell him on the shirt. I bring it close to my nose and inhale, his scent having a somewhat calming effect on me. I brush my hair with the hairbrush that’s been left on the counter. It’s new, still in a packet. Did Josh leave this for me? Does he think I need to be better presented? That’s probably why he wants me to go shopping with his money. He is a McKinley; they do have an image to uphold.
What kind of image does it give him to be seen with me? An unkempt, domestic violence victim—no, not a victim, a survivor. I am a survivor. Even if I did have to kill Trent to escape him, I managed to get myself free. I survived years of torture from that asshole. I need to get out of my own head and stop second guessing myself.
Opening the door, I find the bedroom empty. I make the bed and pick up yesterday’s discarded clothes, placing them in the laundry hamper before I go off in search of Josh. I find him in the kitchen, cooking eggs. He looks… I’m not sure what the word is… But seeing him dressed in that damn suit and standing over the stove cooking eggs, I’m suddenly hungry for something that’s not food.
He hears me enter and turns around. He gives me a once-over, from head to toe, and his jaw clenches. I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. I can never tell with Josh, and it makes me nervous as hell. Did I take too long in the bathroom?
He puts down the spatula and walks over to me. It takes everything in me not to back away. This is Josh. He’s not Trent. He is not going to hurt me. In my heart, I know that he won’t hurt me, but in my head, there’s always that little fight or flight button telling me to fly.
Josh brings his hand up to my face, and although he does it slowly, I still flinch away from him. I close my eyes and, like all those times before, wait for the slap… but it never comes. His fingers brush underneath my eyes. Blinking them open, I see a whole whirlwind of emotions staring back at me. He’s fighting with his own feelings just as much as I’m fighting with mine.
“You’ve been crying. I don’t like it,” he says as he pecks the softest of kisses under my eyes, while his tender touch only makes them water more. I don’t understand his feelings towards me, when he clearly can’t stand anyone else.
“Why do you like me, Josh?” I blurt out.
He’s taken aback by the question and stares at me for a moment before answering. “Why do I like you? That’s like asking why is the sky blue, babe. It just is. I don’t know how to answer that. But I do know from the first day you made the terrible mistake of sitting at my table, you sealed your fate. Something inside me clicked for the first time in my life. I didn’t know or understand what was happening at the time. I even talked to my mum about it. She was drunk, so it’s probably a conversation she doesn’t remember happening. But she cried and told me that I loved you—that’s why I felt this overwhelming urge to protect you and make sure nothing bad ever happened to you.”
He takes a breath in before continuing, “I don’t just like you, Emmy. I love you. I always have. We both know that. Nobody gets me like you do. When you’re around, I feel almost normal. I don’t feel like I have to pretend to fit in with you because we just fit together.”
I think about all that he said. “She remembers, you know? Your mum… I did know you loved me. I also knew you didn’t want to. So, why now?”
He shrugs. “I’ve been going through life for the past seven years in black and white. The moment I heard your voice over the phone, my world became colourful again. I’m not giving you up for a second time, Emmy.”
“Sometimes we don’t get to choose our fates, Josh.”
