by Scott, Shae
DEDICATION
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
EPILOGUE
ALSO BY SHAE SCOTT
FIND ME
The Rise of Emery James
Copyright © 2016 Shae Scott
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design by Kari Ayasha
Cover to Cover Designs
Formatting: Cassy Roop
Pink Ink Designs
Dedication
To Chazarae
Your light defines true beauty.
Thank you for reminding me what it truly means to
RISE.
“I understood myself
only after I destroyed myself.
And only in the process of
fixing myself, did I know
who I really was.”
-Sade Andria Zabala
Cole - 18
HAVE YOU EVER TRIED to memorize a moment? Ever tried to paint it across your memory in vivid detail so that it lives there as a perfect replica? I’m not talking about the broad strokes that leave hazy recollections and gaps for you to fill in years later. I’m talking about cataloguing every detail, down to the nail polish on her toes, the freckle on her lip, or the way her hair falls down her back and tickles the bow on the back of her dress when she throws her head back with laughter.
It’s the details of the moment that make it perfect. It’s the girl at the center of my world, the one who overtakes me with a simple grace that can’t be defined.
She kicks at the water that laps at her feet, paying no mind to the splash that turns the hem of her skirt a darker shade of green. I can hear her singing some made-up melody as she walks back and forth, dancing with the waves, lost in her own world. She’s beauty and fluidity and I could watch her for hours just like this.
She looks up and catches me staring from my spot on the truck tailgate and her smile widens. I feel the familiar tug of my heart as she skips up the sandy shore towards me.
“Are you going to sit up here all day?” she asks, her nose wrinkling as she squints at me through the afternoon sun.
“You have a better idea?” I tease.
“I always have a better idea,” she shoots back with a sassy smile that makes me laugh. I reach out and pull her to me so she’s standing between my legs. She slips her arms around my neck the way she always does and she gives me that easy smile that makes me give her anything that she wants.
“What am I going to do without you here all the time?” I ask, saying the words I’m supposed to keep to myself. I can’t help it though, our deadline is fast approaching and by this time tomorrow we’ll be miles apart.
She tilts her head at me and smirks, “You won’t be here either.”
It’s true. Tomorrow we go our separate ways. College – the killer of high school romances everywhere. When Emery told me she wanted to go to school in Philadelphia I’d immediately started to mentally rearrange all of my plans. We’ve been a team for years and the idea of letting that go seemed unfathomable.
But the truth is, my heart was set on Oklahoma University. It always has been. I grew up yelling Boomer Sooner with my dad and the idea of moving to Philadelphia with it’s cold winters and noisy traffic doesn’t appeal to me at all. Oklahoma is home to me. I don’t want to leave.
Leaving is Emery’s adventure, not mine. We each have dreams to follow and unfortunately, for the first time, they don’t match up. Hell, they don’t even allow for weekend road trips.
“What will we do if someone takes over our spot here?” she ponders. I shrug, trying to imagine another couple taking advantage of this isolated corner of Lake Darling. We’ve spent so many hours here, laughing so hard that we ceased to make sound, trying to understand the world through less innocent eyes, and loving with a passion way beyond our years. This place is ours. I can’t imagine someone else taking it over. Just like I can’t imagine being here without her.
“It will always be our place,” I say honestly. She smiles, pleased with my answer. I pull her to me and kiss her softly. I savor the taste of cherry lip balm and bubblegum as I slide my tongue past her lips. She sighs and her fingers twist into my hair. I love it when she does that, the light tugs against my scalp like she can’t get close enough. I try to take my fill, knowing I won’t be able to kiss her after tomorrow.
When she pulls back and her eyes have that loopy haze about them, like she’s just returned to Earth. The fact that I have the power to put that look on her face gets me every time.
“You aren’t supposed to kiss me like that. You aren’t my boyfriend anymore.” She’s teasing me, but the truth of her words stabs me in the heart, leaving an ache I’m not ready for. I swallow hard and try to smile through the pain of our new reality.
“I told you, I’m keeping you until the last possible moment.”
Her smile turns sad, “We’re doing the right thing.”
I wonder if she’s trying to assure me or herself. I wish I could agree with her, but the idea of saying goodbye is hard for me to swallow. Emery is my girl. I love her. I don’t want to say goodbye. But I nod, it’s the only agreement I can give her.
It doesn’t matter how logical it all sounds. I’m eighteen. I’m not supposed to be logical. I’m supposed to be hard to reason with and go on what I feel. Gut instinct. And my gut instinct tells me that leaving Emery James behind when I’m still in love with her is wrong. It’s like giving up your most prized possession and hoping that someday, someone decides to return it to you, even though it’s perfect and they’d be crazy to let it go.
Crazy.
Like me.
When I don’t say anything she jumps in with the same reasonable explanation that she’s been reciting for weeks. “Cole – you know I’m right. We’ll end up hating each other. We’ll get caught up in missing each other and it will turn ugly. I don’t want us to ever hate each other. I couldn’t bear it,” she says.
“Em, breaking up isn’t going to keep me from missing you. It’s definitely not going to stop me from loving you,” I say simply.
Her eyes flash with regret, “It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” I hear the worry in her voice, the fear that I’m dismissing her decision to a lack of feelings. If anything I know it just means she loves me just as fiercely as I do her. She believes this is what’s best. She believes it with her whole heart and I can’t deny her. Not even this.
I muster up a smile to give her, because
I hate the sadness that clouds her eyes. I don’t want our last night to be sad. I want to soak up enough of her laughter to make it through this semester until I can see her again. I reach out and brush the hair from her face, resting my hand against her cheek and I say the things that she needs to hear.
“You need to go. This is your adventure. You need to see what’s out there. I would never hold you back, James. Go see the world. I’ll still be here when you come home. We’ll find our way back to each other.”
This gives me back the smile I needed to see. I feel her relax in my arms and so I bite my tongue on everything that will take it away again. “We will. I’ll always be your girl, Cole Bennett.”
I want to believe her. My heart needs to believe her, but it feels impossible.
“I love you, Emery. Walk away tomorrow knowing that. No matter how far away you get, never doubt it. You always have me.”
Even with her determined smile strong on her face I see the tears pool in her eyes. “I love you too, Cole.” Her voice comes out soft. I hold her gaze willing the moment to freeze. I want to stay right here. Just the two of us.
“Think anyone would notice if we didn’t show up at Nana’s house for dinner?” I ask. I know tonight is their goodbye too, but I don’t want to share her.
“Probably,” she admits as she slides her palms across my chest, the way she does when she wants to be closer. I swallow hard, my entire body aching with the pain that is this night. “But we could probably be late,” she offers.
One last time. I need to have her one last time before I have to let her go. It’s selfish. It will make letting go that much harder, but I don’t care. Even with all of our good intentions and promises the truth is heavy between us.
This could be our final goodbye.
Emery
6 Years Later
THE TILE BENEATH ME is cold and unforgiving. Then again, it wasn't meant for sitting and I've been sitting here in this kitchen for hours, staring into the dark. Into the nothing. It feels appropriate, the emptiness that surrounds me. Like the rest of my world has finally caught up.
I suppose a person can’t run forever. Eventually it all catches up with you.
The front door slams somewhere in the distance, followed by the echo of heavy footsteps on the marble entryway. Boots. I hear the heels hitting the floor in steady, confident strides getting louder with their approach. I close my eyes at the familiar sound, my body flooded with instant comfort.
"Emery?" The sound of my father's voice breaks apart the dam that has held every emotion at bay for the past twelve hours and I begin to cry. He wastes no time joining me on the hard floor and pulling me into his arms. He strokes my hair to comfort me, the way he used to when I was a kid and I'd skinned my knee. Only this time it's so much more than a skinned knee. This time I will need more than a kiss on the forehead and the promise of extra ice cream on my pie after dinner.
No, this time I'm not sure that even my daddy can put me back together.
"Sweetie, it's okay. I'm here. I've got you," he says. His voice is strong and I take comfort in the strength behind his words. My cries come harder because I know he means it. This man would do anything for me. He'd move heaven and earth to make me happy, to soothe my pain. Even after I've been such a horrible daughter. Even after I've shut him out for years. After I've broken his heart.
"Daddy, I'm sorry," I say, choking on the tears and the guilt that seize my entire body.
"Stop, Emery. Stop," he commands quietly. He's always been this way, so strong and quiet, but fiercely loyal. And I can't help but wonder how it is that I have strayed so far away from him, from the entire foundation of my home.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I say again. Now that he’s here the distance and time between us cracks me open. The words feel so empty.
"Sweetie, let's get up off of the floor, okay?" he says. He shifts and then pulls me gently to my feet. I follow him, feeling the weight of the past few hours, hell the past few years, heavy in my limbs as he leads me towards the living room.
My body aches from sitting for so long. I'm not even sure how long I sat there, long enough for my dad to hop a plane and fly to Connecticut. Long enough to replay every memory from the moment I'd met Gabe. Long enough to analyze every decision, every conversation, and every moment that brought me to this reality.
"Daddy, he's dead," I say quietly. I hear his breath catch, breaking for his little girl. And I know he thinks my heart is shattered. After all, I've just found out that my husband is gone. I'm twenty-four years old and I'm a widow. Just like that. But I can't settle on any one emotion long enough to feel it completely.
Pain. Shock. Anger.
Relief.
They are all there, swirling in a storm I can't quite stand against. So instead I sink into the embrace of my father, and cherish his warmth.
"I know, baby," he soothes.
"What do I do now?" I ask helplessly.
"Just rest. We'll get through this. I'm not leaving you," he promises. I nod, taking comfort in his words as I curl up on the couch, my body suddenly too exhausted to stay upright. I'm vaguely aware of the blanket he lays over me as my eyes drift closed, shutting out this day and giving me a reprieve from this nightmare.
THE SUN IS SHINING through the curtains when I open my eyes. I blink away the sleep and heaviness from my lids as I stretch. It feels like I've slept for days, every muscle aches. I look around the room realizing that I'm no longer on the couch, but in my bed. The large king bed feels even larger this morning as I stretch an arm out to Gabe's side, still perfectly made and untouched. It's not that different than most mornings. He’s always gone on business trips, so I'm used to waking up alone. But this morning it feels different, because this time I know that he isn't coming back.
I twist to my side, curling up into a protective ball as I tuck my hands beneath my cheek and stare at his pillow. I try to imagine him lying here beside me. I try to picture his face, relaxed in sleep, his dark hair falling into his eyes, the hint of whiskers growing along his jaw. I've always liked it that way, but he never lets it stay. He says it isn't professional.
My mind plays over our last conversation when he’d called to tell me he'd arrived in Chicago safely. He'd said that he was going out with clients and would call me in the morning. It was the same generic call we’d shared countless times before. Only this time, when the call came the next morning it hadn't come from him. It had come from the state police, telling me about the accident. I’d stood there listening in a daze as the voice on the other end of the line rattled on with words like they did everything they could and I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Forrester. I wonder absently if they realize the impact they have, or if it is so commonplace to them that they are just words. Not life altering boulders that take down everything in their path.
But even with the harsh reality that my husband is dead, the one thing that keeps echoing in my head is the police officer telling me that his companion had also been killed. His companion. I guess that is the polite way to put it. It leaves a sinking feeling deep in my stomach as the situation only turns harsher in the cold light of the truth.
He wasn't alone. He was with her.
I push myself out of bed, refusing to think about it anymore. I need a shower and some caffeine. I need to try and pull myself together. I smell the coffee as soon as I open the bedroom door. Of course Dad would have a pot going already. I make my way into the kitchen and find him sipping from a mug and making notes in a spiral notebook.
He looks up with a soft smile and I can see that there are extra lines around his eyes. The guilt hits me again as I think about the fact that I've been away from him for so long. I can't help but wonder if I am the cause of some of that stress.
"Morning," he says.
"Hi, Daddy," I say. I walk to the table and lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek. He grabs me and pulls me into a tight hug and I feel the tears prick my eyes as I try my hardest to keep the emotions locked away. I don't
want to break down right now.
I give him a moment to hold me, because I know that he needs it. I've shut him out and he needs to fix things. I need to let him try.
"I'm okay," I assure him as I gently pull away. He gives me a soft smile and I pat his shoulder before going to get a cup of coffee. The routine act is comforting and I hold on to the sense of normalcy that it brings.
"What are you doing?" I ask, taking the creamer from the fridge.
He hesitates before answering. "I was just making a list of things that we'll need to do." And just like that the normalcy is gone. The stones are back, sitting heavy in my stomach.
I look at my father and am struck with the sudden realization that he's made this list too many times in his life already. First when my mother died and then for Nana. He’s always done it alone. It’s always been easier for me to hide when things are hard. I left him alone to deal with everything, yet here he is, sitting at my kitchen table making the list again. For my husband. To protect me.
"Daddy, you don't have to do that. I'll sort it all out," I say, even though my voice comes out shaky.
"I'm going to help you through this, Emery. You don't have to do any of it alone."
I nod and keep my mouth shut. He needs this. He needs to help. If I'm being honest, I desperately need it, because I'm not sure what to do next. I want to steal a look at his list, but I'm too afraid to see what's on it.
I can’t hide this time.
The realization that Gabe is gone and that my life is completely different than it was yesterday starts to set in. I won't see him again. He won't walk back through the door, he won't call. And it's crazy, but I can't seem to shake the feeling that I've been forgotten. It doesn't feel like he's dead. It feels like he simply left and forgot to take me with him. Like a piece of luggage that didn't make it into the car or the dry cleaning he forgot to pick up before he left for the airport. The thing that was supposed to be important, but wasn't.
But that’s a familiar feeling. Lately, my marriage has been nothing more than a string of days where I go through the motions and try to say the right things. I feel like I've been living in a fog, like the entire world has continued to spin while I've somehow isolated myself in a life I never expected.
