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“Because I didn’t know how to do it, and you wanted your hair braided. How else was I going to learn?”
“You really didn’t need to do that. I could have done it myself.”
“If you ask me to do something, Emmy, chances are I’m going to figure out how to do it.”
I hear footsteps enter the bedroom. Reaching under the bench seat, I grab the Glock that I had stashed there. I shove Emily behind me and aim the gun at the door of the closet. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be Sam out there, but I’m not willing to take any chances.
Seconds later, Sam opens the door. “Don’t shoot.” He raises his hands, laughing.
I lower the gun. “Took you bloody long enough, mate.”
“I figured I’d disconnect the cameras around the place before I opened the door to the closet.” Sam peers over my shoulder. “Figured you two kids would be playing seven minutes in heaven.”
Emily steps out from behind me. “Oh, I played that game once in high school. It’s not what it’s cracked up to be.”
“Back the fuck up! Who the hell played seven minutes in heaven with you?” It’s not until I see the shock, the fear on her face, that I notice how loud I raised my voice.
Emily starts backing up until she hits the island in the middle of the closet. Fuck. I really need to learn to rein in my reactions. I fucking hate seeing her like this. Gone is the feisty girl who gave me hell for having women’s clothes in here five minutes ago. In her place is a scared, shattered soul, afraid of what’s coming next.
She shakes her head no. Her mouth opens, but no words come out. How the fuck do I fix this?
“Emmy, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” I raise my hands up, like I’m surrendering to her. Her eyes dart to the gun I’m still clutching in my right hand. Flipping it over, I hold the Glock out for her to take.
“Here, hold this for me.” I’m hoping offering her a weapon will show her I’m not about to fucking hurt her.
“Why?” she asks.
“Because, right now, you’re scared. I don’t like it. Take the gun, Emmy. If anyone scares you, shoot them.” I grab her hand and wrap her palm around the handle of the gun.
“No, I don’t want it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Josh. I can’t control this. I don’t know how to stop these images from running through my mind. I want it to stop. I want to stop seeing it. Make it stop, please.”
I hold her face in my hands, connecting my eyes with hers. Leaning in, I kiss her forehead before pulling back. “I want to make it all better for you, Em. More than anything else in this world, I want that. But I don’t know how. Tell me what I need to do to help. I’ll do anything.”
“You can’t fix this, Josh. No one can help me. I need to figure it out for myself.”
“We will figure it out together. You’re not alone, Emmy.”
Emily shakes her head no. “I’m sorry.” She puts the gun down on the island bench behind her.
“You don’t need to be sorry, babe. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.”
“I’m not scared of you, Josh. I just forget sometimes. Some things just take me back. I don’t want to be that girl anymore. I’m tired of being scared of my own shadow.” Tears fall down her cheek.
“As much as I don’t like seeing you scared, it’s okay to be scared, Emmy. Everyone is scared of something.”
“You’re not scared of anything. You never have been.”
“That’s not true. There’s one thing I’m scared of,” I admit.
“What?”
“You. I’m scared I’ll wake up one day and you’ll be gone. I’m scared that you’re going to realise just how good you really are—too good for someone like me. I’m fucking terrified of what I’ll become if I lose you again.”
“You’ve been just fine without me for the last seven years. You will survive without me again.” She says it like it’s already a done deal, like she already knows she’s not sticking around.
“I’ve been anything but fine, Emmy. If I lose you again, it will ruin me.”
“I don’t want to ruin you, Josh.”
“Then don’t.”
“We don’t always get to say how life ends up.”
“I get to say how we end up, Emmy. And in my story, we will win out over any odds.”
