by Melody Grace
“You’re wrong.” I shake my head stubbornly. “I love you!”
“And what good does that do?” Emerson yells back. “Look at our parents, at your mom. You’ve been telling me all this time how loving your dad destroyed her. Love drags you down, if it lasts at all. All the good turns to shit in the end, and then there’s nothing left but misery!”
I stumble back, sick to my stomach. He thinks I’m a dead weight around him? That I would hold him back, and make him resent me?
“You don’t mean this,” I blink through the tears.
“I do,” he swears, “and you know I’m right. What the fuck are we going to do here, Jules? Play house in a trailer somewhere? Work shitty jobs and scrape by, until you wind up hating me for everything you gave up to be with me?”
“It doesn’t have to be like that!” I scream.
“God, will you stop being such a kid? This is the real fucking world!” Emerson’s whole body is clenched with tension, jaw set and furious. “You don’t get to live happily ever after. People leave, and they cheat, and they screw around and fuck you up. What makes you think I’ll be any different? I’m a fuck-up, Jules, it’s what I do. Why even bother trying when we both know it’s never going to work.”
The black abyss I’ve been holding at bay ever since I walked in that room and found my mom finally rears up, roaring like a hurricane in my ears. I snap.
“That’s it?” I scream, surging forward. I shove both hands against his chest, pushing him back.“You’re giving up, just like that? Because it’ll be hard? Because we’ll have to work to make it together? You’re a fucking coward!”
“Jules—” Emerson starts, but I cut him off. My body is screaming with fury. I’ve been numb for days, but now all my anger comes blazing out.
“Coward!” I scream again. “You like to talk about how you’re going to make something of yourself, how you’re not going to wind up like your parents. But you’re just the same as them!”
Emerson scowls at me, terrifying. “Fuck you!”
“What? It’s the truth, isn’t it?” I taunt him, furious. “Your dad bailed when shit got tough, and your mom cares more about shooting up than taking care of her family. She takes the easy way out, they both do, and now you’re doing the exact same thing!”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know they’re a mistake. Emerson goes still, and when he speaks again, his voice is barely a whisper: frighteningly cold. “That’s what you think of me, huh? A trailer trash waste of space.”
I gulp. “That’s not what I meant.”
“No, I get it.” Emerson gives me a bleak, twisted smile. “I just don’t know why you didn’t say something sooner. Hell, why you even bothered sticking it out this long at all, since I’m such a worthless piece of shit.”
“I didn’t say that!” I insist, but he won’t listen.
“I always knew it’s what they thought of me,” Emerson tells me, his eyes black with bitterness. “This town, your parents…But I didn’t care. Because I thought you saw something different in me. You made me feel like I could be something more.”
“I do see that!” I sob, wretched. “I love you!”
“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t make a difference.” Emerson glares at me. “It’s not enough.”
I gape at him, wordless, the harsh truth of what he’s saying finally crashing through me. He’s saying it’s not enough, but what he really means is, I’m not enough.
I’m not enough for him.
I crumble.
“Just go!” I cry, feeling desperation sweep through me, robbing me of my last strength. I can’t bear for him to see me like this, torn apart with devastation when he never really loved me in the end. “If you can’t do this, then go ahead and leave!” I beg. “It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? A fucking useless quitter. So go!”
I sink back to my knees, the sobs coursing through me, uncontrollable. It’s an empty ache like I’ve never known, the pain so sharp it’s like my chest is burning up with agony.
“Jules.” Emerson takes a step towards me. His voice falters. “Let me take you home.”
“No!” I scream. “I don’t need anything from you. I never want to see you again!” My voice breaks, and I crumple into a ball, shaking with a grief so black I can hardly breathe. I wish it were another panic attack—a brief spell that will pass—but I know this won’t ever fade. This pain will be mine to carry forever.
The knowledge I’m not enough for him to love.
Not enough for my mom to live for.
I’ll never be enough.
I stay huddled there, wracked with desperate, empty sobs. Finally I hear Emerson’s footsteps walk away from me, then the engine of the truck starting. He drives away, leaving me here in the rain with my heart breaking into a million agonizing pieces. Completely alone.
And then he’s gone.
Chapter Twelve
I surface from the memory to find I’m almost back at the house. I wipe angrily at my face, trying to choke back the tears as the chorus is unleashed, cruel and taunting in my mind.
Stupid girl. Stupid fucking girl.
What made you think it would be any different this time?
I round the corner up the driveway and then stop dead. There’s a U-Haul truck pulled up in front of the house, the doors wide open. I feel a surge of indignation. The new owners can’t be here already! The realtor only just called, she said I had until the end of the week.
“Hello?” I call, coming closer. Someone is rummaging around the boxes I set against the side of the house, full of junk to donate. I sigh, irritated by the intrusion—just when I want to be left alone. I make an effort to sound more friendly; after all, they are about to shell out a decent amount of money for the place. I move closer. “I’m sorry about the mess, but I thought I had more time.”
“It’s OK, it’s just me.” A familiar voice comes, and then a moment later, someone emerges around the side of the house.
It’s Daniel.
“Hey,” he says, awkward. He’s wearing a rumpled Oxford shirt and khakis, his brown hair glinting in the sun. He’s the last person on earth I expected to see.
My mouth drops open in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugs, bunching his fists in his front pockets. “Your dad told me about finding a buyer. I figured you could use some help getting everything back to the city before the storm hits...”
“What storm?”
Daniel frowns. “Haven’t you been listening, it’s all over the news. A big hurricane, supposed to hit tonight. With you out by the water like this, we should get on the road before it blows through town.”
I feel a warmth flood through me, a slim ray of sunshine in the midst of my cold, aching despair. It’s so typical of Daniel, to think about what he can do to help, even after everything. All the pain I caused him. He always was the selfless one.
“It’s OK,” I tell him softly. “You don’t have to. I can manage.”
“I want to.” Daniel looks around the yard, and up at the house, taking it all in. He smiles, “It’s beautiful. I can see why you didn’t want to let it go.”
I wipe at my face again, trying to hide my tears. “I’ve got most of it packed away. There’s stuff for Goodwill, and the trash, and…” My voice is hoarse from crying, and I have to trail off without finishing.
Daniel looks at me closer, direct for the first time. His expression changes, concern flooding across his features. “Juliet,” he exclaims, hurrying forward to reach me. “What happened? Are you OK?”
“I’m fine!” I try to tell him, but my voice breaks again. Before I can move away, he pulls me into a hug, arms going strong around my body to cradle me in against his chest.
I half-heartedly struggle, but he keeps me warm in the circle of his embrace.
“Shh,” Daniel murmurs, gently stroking my hair. “It’s OK. Everything’s going to be OK.”
I know I should pull away, but I feel myself rela
x against him. Even though arms around me aren’t the ones I wish so desperately were holding me, Daniel’s body is gentle and warm. After everything that’s happened this morning, it’s a relief to sink into his solid embrace, like for a moment, I can be safe again.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper against him.
“It’s OK,” Daniel says again. Finally, he steps back, holding me away from him and studying my face with a worried look. “Did something happen?” His face darkens. “Is it that guy? Did he hurt you?”
“I…No…” I shake my head quickly, but his sweetness only makes me feel lousy. Why is he being so nice to me? Shouldn’t he be off drinking with his buddies back in the city, cursing the day we met?
“You shouldn’t have come,” I tell Daniel, guilty. “After everything I said to you. I figured you’d hate me by now.”
He stands firm. “I had to know you’re OK.”
“Well, what does it look like?” I try to crack a joke, but he doesn’t smile.
“It looks like you need someone to talk to.”
His expression is so understanding I want to burst into tears all over again. Instead, I pull together my last ounce of self-control. “You want to come in?” I offer. “I could make us some coffee.”
Daniel nods. “And then maybe you can explain what’s been going on here since you got back.”
Daniel waves away all my offers to help and makes us the coffee, digging the percolator and cups out of an already-packed box. He sits me down in what’s left of the living room, and I curl up under a blanket, my hands wrapped around the warm mug. I tell him everything.
Emerson. My mom. Coming back here. Everything.
I try to skate around the details of me and Emerson together, but I can tell Daniel understands. When I’m done, I sit back, nervously watching his face for the terrible judgment I know I deserve.
Daniel takes a deep breath, and when he exhales, it’s like he’s letting go of something he’s held on to all this time.
“You love him,” he says quietly.
I nod.
Daniel looks over at me, wounded. “Did you ever love me?”
“Yes!” I cry, reaching over to grab his hand. “Daniel, I swear. You were the best thing that could have happened for me. You saved me. I loved you, I did.”
“But not like him.” Daniel answers for the both of us.
He looks at my hand holding his for a long moment, then squeezes it gently, and places it back down on the arm of the couch between us.
He sighs again, raking his fingers through his hair with a look of rueful resignation. “I never stood a chance, did I?”
I pause, but he deserves the truth. “No.”
He’s right. No matter how much Daniel loved me, or how thoughtful and sweet he is, it’s no contest when it comes to Emerson.
Because I realize now, that’s the way it works. That if you’re lucky, you might get to fall in love so hard and so deep, that it changes you. That love seeps its way into every atom and molecule in your whole being, so that even if it’s over, or the two of you are forced apart, you’ll always carry the imprint of their soul with you, steady as a heartbeat. Forever.
I’ve had Emerson Ray’s name branded on my heart since the day we met, and nothing could ever change that.
“You can come back to the city with me, you know,” Daniel tells me.
I shake my head. “I told you, I can’t…”
“No, this isn’t about us,” he interrupts. “I get it now, it’s over. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, Juliet. And I can’t stand to see you like this.”
“A mess?” I manage to quip, but he shakes his head, stern.
“So… helpless.”
My mouth drops open in protest. Daniel’s face softens as he looks at me gently. “I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Look at you, you’re just sitting around in this house, waiting for him to come and choose to love you. That’s not a relationship, Juliet, it’s a hostage situation.”
His words slip under my defenses with a shiver of truth. I want to defend Emerson, but with nothing but his voicemail as comfort all day, I don’t know what to say.
“I’m just saying, the girl I knew wouldn’t take this crap from anyone,” Daniel adds, pushing it. “You had a plan, a whole vision of what you wanted your life to be. What happened to all those plans? Don’t just throw all of that away.”
“I’m not throwing it away,” I protest, “I’m just…thinking things over.”
“So where is he?” Daniel challenges. “While you’re doing all this thinking.”
“I don’t know,” I reply in a quiet voice.
“Are you going to stay here?” Daniel continues. “What about college and finals and jobs?”
“I don’t know, OK!” My cry echoes in the house. I fold my arms defensively, feeling cornered by his questions. “I was going to move to DC with you,” I point out. “How is this any different?”
“We made that decision together,” Daniel tells me with a blunt look. “We talked about it, weighed up all the options—for the both of us. Come on, you know I’m right.”
I look down, playing with the frayed edge of the blanket. Daniel is talking sense, but the disappointment of waking up this morning is still an open wound, raw and bloody. I don’t know if I’m ready to hear this.
Daniel sighs. “Just let me ask you one thing, OK?”
I look back and reluctantly nod.
“If this love is as epic as you say it is—for him, not just you,” he adds quickly, “then were the hell is he?”
The question sits between us, laid out on the bare hardwood floors. All my worst fears and insecurities given a voice, and harder still, a look of painful sympathy staring back at me from Daniel’s concerned gaze.
I cringe. The worst part is, he’s right. He’s just asking me the same question I’ve been asking myself, ever since I woke up alone this morning. Why isn’t Emerson here with me?
“It’s OK,” Daniel says quickly, as if he can tell his innocent questions have paralyzed me. “Let’s get started loading things onto the truck. You have boxes of stuff you want to take back to the city?”
I nod, finally finding my voice. “I marked everything, keep or trash, or donate.”
“That’s more like it.” Daniel gives me an affectionate smile. “I’ll go take a look in the kitchen.”
He leaves me alone, swathed in the warm blanket and my own wretched emotions. I know I must look like a stranger to him: the girl who always had a plan, fallen apart so completely.
But he’s right. This isn’t like me, to sit around. I need to do something—it doesn’t matter what, just something to stop me crumpling here in the aching grip of old memories. Before I can reconsider, I grab a roll of trash bags and a couple of packing cartons and climb the stairs to the first floor. I walk briskly down the hallway and push open the door to my mom’s room. It sits, quiet in the afternoon, a faint sheen of dust covering every surface. Untouched for years.
I take a deep breath, then I set to work: clearing the bedside tables and emptying the dresser; packing the pink rose quilt away, and stuffing old clothing into the refuse sacks. I can hear Daniel banging around downstairs, and see glimpses of him as he hauls stuff out to the truck, but he doesn’t come bother me up here, and I don’t ask for help.
This, I have to do alone.
A life is dismantled under my hands, years of memories. I work until the room is stripped bare and I’m standing in the place where my mom used to live. But she’s not here anymore. Somehow, the ghosts have been packed quietly away.
“Goodbye, Mom,” I whisper softly.
I hear the sound of an engine outside, and check out the window to see if Daniel is taking the first load out to Goodwill. But instead, I see Emerson’s truck pull in across the driveway.
I freeze, watching with my heart in my throat as he climbs down, slamming the door. The sky is overcast now, gray clouds blowing in fast from the ocean as Emerson strides towards t
he house.
Daniel goes out to meet him, and through the open window, I can hear every word.
“Where is she?” Emerson demands. He’s wearing the same clothes from last night, but rumpled and disheveled now, as if he just threw them on in the morning when he left.
When he ran out on you.
I know I should hate him right now, but looking down through the window, my stomach twists with longing. To have those muscular arms around me, feel the weight of his solid torso bearing down on me.
Emerson makes to move towards the porch, but Daniel blocks his way. “Whoa,” Daniel puts his hands up. “Back off. You’re not coming in.”
Even from up here, I can see Emerson’s whole body tense. “Who the fuck are you?”
“A friend.” Daniel stands firm. “And you don’t just get to show up when it suits you. She’s not in a state to talk right now, she’ll let you know if she wants to see you.”
There’s a pause, then Emerson gives a short, bitter laugh. “It’s you, isn’t it?” he says. “The boyfriend. You think you can come take her back with you, is that it?” He backs up and yells again, “Jules, where are you?”
Emerson glances up at the house.
I duck back, out of the window, my heart pounding like crazy in my ears. But it’s too late. He’s seen me.
“Jules?” Emerson’s voice yells up. “Get down here, I need to talk to you!”
My pulse races. I hear Daniel’s voice, low and calm. “I told you, you need to leave her alone right now.”
“Get out of my fucking way!” Emerson’s voice is threatening, and I don’t think for a minute he won’t follow through.
Shit.
I waver another moment, hidden in the shadows of the room, then race for the stairs. I thunder downstairs, breathless, and burst out of the front door onto the porch just in time to see Emerson take a swing at Daniel, his fist connecting in a sharp right hook that sends Daniel stumbling back on the lawn.
“Emerson!” I scream in panic, tearing the screen door open. “Stop it!”
