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I close my eyes. “Don’t, Jem.”
“Sorry. You asked.”
“Thank you for everything you did. Not only dealing with Lily and helping me until the ambulance came. You were strong for me. You could’ve freaked out.”
He laughs. “Iwasfreaked out. Never expected us to share a moment like that.”
I can’t help the heat growing in my cheeks at the intimacy of him being at Rhys’s birth, how we will never be able to leave that behind. “More than that. I remember you holding my hand, talking to me, being who I needed. I saw a different Jem.”
He snorts. “And I saw a different Sky.”
I stare at my hands. “Okay, we leave the topic, right?”
“Too damn right.” He pauses. “I hope Lily gets what she fucking deserves.”
“Me too.”
He studies me. “Are you okay? After today. Must’ve dragged shit up.”
“No and yes,” I admit. “But this will be over soon.”
“Will it?”
“Closure.”
He sets down the cup. “I’m sorry too, for avoiding talking to you, but I didn’t know what the fuck to say.”
“Me neither.”
We share a smile, the rebuilt barrier between us slipping, but we still don’t know what to say.
“I should find Dylan,” I say and stand, legs shaking again at the intruding memories, at the relief Jem’s spoken to me, and I’ve finally had a chance to thank him. For a moment, Jem watches me, rubbing his face, and I swallow down the thickness in my throat and squeeze away the tears. “I need…”
I fail to hide a sob, and I hate, hate,hatethis part of me, on the edge of tears all the time. I want to be strong again, to conquer this.
“Shit, Sky.”
Through blurring vision, I see Jem stand and approach me. My racing heart speeds, then stutters in shock as he places his arms around me. I stiffen, unsure what to do as the man who once hated me, who possibly saved my life, enfolds me in a strong hug. Jem, the man who avoids physical contact with almost everybody. Should I hug him back? More memories burst through at his actions, his scent reminding me of the night that’s in the room with us now.
I can’t breakdown in front of him; he’s dealt with enough. I squeeze him too, a brief moment, then step back.
“Thank you for what you did.”
Jem nods but doesn’t speak again, sits back down, and picks up his coffee, returning to his thoughts.
The dynamic between the three of us switched that day, and I’m now bound as tightly to him as Dylan is. I doubt we’ll ever discuss this again, but the fact he opened up to me, if only for a few minutes, brought the calm I needed.
