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I look back at her, and my heart swells so large it aches. “That’s okay if you enjoy it.”
“I do, and I think I’ll keep taking pictures here and there, but it’s not my thing.”
“Did you find your thing?” Because as much as I love music and snowboarding, staring at her while she’s being vulnerable and letting me in, I know without a doubt she’s my thing.
She’s my everything.
Her face lights up and instantly looks shy at the same time. “I did. You’re going to think it’s silly, but once I started, I just couldn’t stop.”
She reaches into the box for what I’m assuming will be the last time and pulls out a charcoal gray knit scarf. “This is for you.” She steps closer to me, and since I’m holding the picture she gave me, I drop my head so she can wrap it around my neck. Emma invades my senses, and it takes everything in me not to grab her and pull her close.
She takes a step back, and with my free hand, I rub my fingers over the softness. I shouldn’t feel as choked up as I do, but she made this for me, and it means more than she’ll ever know.
“It’s not silly,” I say at the same time she says, “I know it’s not much.”
“Yes, it is, and I love it. Thank you.” I rub one end over my face and then wrap it around my neck, even though it’s sixty-five degrees outside, and the smile that overtakes her is one of complete pride.
“My condo has been invaded by yarn. I can’t get enough of it. The textures and colors are so pretty, and I’ve been teaching myself all these different techniques to make different patterns. It makes me excited and calm at the same time, I can do it anywhere, and I can give things I make to everyone. But you are the first. It had to be you.”
The first.
Warmth, adoration and love overtakes me as it diffuses from my heart to every square inch of my body.
“I love it, Emma. Truly. Thank you for making this for me,” I tell her with my throat tight and my voice rough.
“Don’t you see?” She steps a little closer, her head tilting so she can look up at me. “It was all for you. Yes, I was trying to find my thing, which I did, and outside of boxing where I must have had a rare moment of insanity, everything came back to you. I want to have plants, because that means we have a home, a lived-in home. I want to cook for you, because that’s what you do for your family. I want to fill a house with photos of us and our life. I want to wrap you in soft wool so you never forget you are loved. Because you are . . . I love you.”
“Emma—”
She holds her hand up. “No wait, I have to say these things to you, because I want you to really hear me too.” She takes a deep breath and looks me in the eyes, her beautiful brown eyes that are filled with so much emotion. “Clay, I believe in loyalty. That’s who I am at my core.” Her hand covers her chest. “While I do find this to be an admirable quality, I have learned over the last year and a half that I also fear change and instability. The expression ‘will go down with the ship’—yeah, that’s me. With Justin . . .” She pinches her lips together and shakes her head like she’s disappointed. “I realize I was loyal to the idea of us, to the plan we made six months in, years and years ago, and I purposefully chose not to recognize how different and off we were. I’ve spent a lot of time over the last year and a half reflecting on the why of that, and I can do better, be better, because I want to be for you . . . with you. You are not a replacement for him.” She lets out a deep sigh and looks at the ground. “I’m also not Avery.”
I reach for her hand, and she lets me take it.
“But I do understand why she’s here. I told you Ash is her home, and Clay . . . you are mine. I don’t need to be in New York, I just need to be with you. I don’t care where.”
I don’t have it in me to deny this girl anything.
“Clay . . .” There’s pleading in her tone, and I hold up my hand to stop her.
“Emma, would you like to come back to the house and have that cup of coffee with me?”
Hope springs to her eyes as they grow large and her chest expands.
“Yes, I’d like that very much, but you were headed somewhere. I understand if now is not a good time.”
“You have p-perfect timing, and I’ll follow you there.”
“Okay.” Her face breaks out into the most beautiful smile, and as she goes to pick up her box, I step closer, gently grab her arm, pull her up, and bend down to kiss the corner of her mouth. She freezes for less than a second, and then she leans into me. My face is next to hers, her arms wrap around me while mine engulf her, and I just breathe her in. She smells like lavender, fabric softener, and road trip.
She smells like mine.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
32
EMMA
Clay follows me back to his house, and it feels surreal to look in the rearview mirror and see him there. He’s put his aviators back on as we’re driving into the sun, and I swear there is no man on this earth hotter than him. He’s also still wearing the scarf. He hasn’t taken it off, and the look on his face when I gave it to him was one of genuine gratitude. He loved the picture and the scarf. He wasn’t just appeasing me.
