by Scott, Shae
"He sure has made himself at home," Cole says as he pets the kitten on the head. Journey opens one eye and gives him a pitiful meow in hello before falling back into his slumber.
"I like having him around," I smile. When Cole stands back up I realize just how close we are standing to each other. I move to take a step back, the lack of space causing one of those unexpected stomach flips. It flips again when his hand moves to my upper arm and slides down to my hand. His thumb traces across my skin and he gives me an easy smile. I don't breathe and for a moment we stare at each other without words. At least none that either of us decide to speak.
"You want to watch something?" I say finally, needing to break the spell. I move my hand, breaking the contact between us and finally take a decent breath as I put space between us.
'Sure, if you want," he says noncommittally. Instead of moving to his normal spot on the couch though he begins examining the photos on the mantel. I just put most of them up. Up until now it was hard for me to display photos of my mom or Nana. The pain of losing them was hard to push aside when I was looking at their face. But lately, I've wanted them up. It still hurts to look up and see them smiling at me, but it's getting easier. And in a way it makes me feel like they are watching over me, so I'm not going to hide from them anymore.
"I remember this," Cole says as he picks up a framed photo from the mantel. It's of me and my mom. I'm only eight or so and we're at the Fourth of July parade. I glance over his shoulder at the photograph. It's one of my favorites. She looks so beautiful. Her hair is blowing in the wind and it creates a wild frame around her face. She's holding me tight against her as we both smile at the camera. My smile is huge as I hug a giant bear that Dad had won me at the carnival.
I can remember that day so clearly. We were so happy. Things had been perfect. A perfect moment before everything had crumbled around us. It would be our last parade as a family. Mom was killed in a car accident later that year.
"I always loved that parade," I say quietly, trying to shake off the melancholy hitting me as I think about that year.
"You look so much like your mom," he says quietly. I can't help but smile. Dad has always told me that. I never wanted to hear it before. It made the pain of losing her feel more real. But now, as I stare at the photograph I can see it. Now that I'm older I can appreciate the similarities. It makes me feel closer to her.
I take the photo from his hands and move to the couch where I fold my legs underneath me. I run my fingers across the lines of her face, trying to remember all of the details that I'd tried to block out. Like the sound of her laugh, her voice or the way she would sing to me when I was sick.
"I can barely remember her dying. I blocked it all out. All of my memories are fuzzy," I admit as Cole comes to join me on the couch.
"You were young," he says.
I shrug, "Yeah, but I don't think I wanted to remember. I was hiding from it. I'm realizing that I do that a lot. With her, with Nana. Even with Gabe. It's like I just shut down. I shut everyone out." I feel the frown tug at my lips.
"That's a pretty natural response, don't you think?" he asks. For a moment I wonder if he's right. But then I realize that he's just giving me a pass. Like everyone else. Every time I run or hide I'm let off the hook. And look where that's gotten me.
"I’m starting to believe that it's a dangerous response," I admit.
He waits for me to continue. I almost change the subject. I almost bury it under the rug and suggest he turns on a movie. But the way he's watching me, listening, with no judgment on his face, has me wanting to explain. Just like he always does, he makes me want to spill my guts. He pushes me to confront all of the scary stuff without ever saying a word. It makes me feel uncomfortable and safe all at the same time.
"When my mom died I hid out. I was just a kid, but I found a way to hide. I stayed away from the house and all of the memories that surrounded me there. I stopped bringing her up. I never even asked Dad how he was doing. I didn't want to know. I didn't want to see his pain. So I hid it away with my own. I pretended everything was fine, you know? I never dealt with it.
"When Nana died I did the same thing. I didn't even come home, Cole. I made up some lame excuse about having an important project that was due. Like anything was more important than coming home for her. Or for Dad for that matter. I just hid. I don't think I realized the pattern until Gabe died. I had somehow separated myself from every person who cared about me. Like starting over would erase everything bad that had happened. It doesn't work that way."
I feel my throat getting tight as I fight back tears. Cole reaches over and takes my hand, running his thumbs across my skin in comforting strokes. "When Gabe was killed Dad was there in an instant. He didn't think about it at all. He just jumped in and took over the hard stuff. He held my hand through it all. And it made me realize just how hard it must have been for him to bury my mother and his. And to do it all alone. I don't think I've ever felt guilt like that before. It's dangerous to run because eventually it all catches back up with you and the weight of all of your regrets hitting you at once is . . ." I let my thought fade into silence, because honestly, I don't know how to explain it. It’s simply my reality. And it's one that I'm struggling to navigate every day.
"You have to find a way to forgive yourself, Em. You can't carry that guilt with you. They loved you. Henry loves you. They knew you. Trust that they understood."
Dad has told me the same thing and while I believe them, it doesn't take away the disappointment I have for myself. I should have known better. I should have done better. Running away from the people you love doesn't do anything but hurt everyone involved. It's been a hard lesson to learn.
With each story, each admission, I feel part of my guard torn away. I've never felt as vulnerable as I have since coming home. My defenses don't work here. But there is something about Cole's presence that allows me to feel safe in that vulnerability and because of that, for the first time in as long as I can remember I don't want to run.
Cole
THIS NIGHT IS BECOMING so much more than I'd expected. Honestly, I'd assumed we'd have another casual night and that maybe I could get her to laugh again. Maybe move us closer to a place where we can evolve this friendship into something more. I'm a rat bastard for thinking about it, but I can't stop myself. When you know, you know, isn’t that what they always say? Well, when it comes to Emery James I’ve always known. So, moving forward is definitely part of my game plan. I mean, who doesn't want to fall in love with their best friend. . .again.
But as much as I enjoy seeing her let go and smile and laugh, night's like tonight are just as important. She's talking. Really talking. She's confiding in me things that I'm pretty sure she has kept buried deep inside for way too long. So I'll listen to everything that she has to say. I'll listen and I'll study every scar until I know her better than anyone else.
She stares at the frame in her hands, tracing the lines of her mother's face and it takes everything in me not to wipe the tears that have started to stream down her cheeks. I don't because I know it's part of the process. She can't remain numb forever.
"Sometimes, I dream about them. Mom and Nana." Her lips curve up in a soft smile. "We're always in Nana's kitchen, usually cooking, but there is always so much laughter. It's like these perfect little glimpses of what life would have been like if they were still here. When I wake up my heart feels so full and it's like I've just slept out in the sunshine because I'm so warm. Only then it fades and everything is cold and empty again. It breaks me apart every time. I love and hate those dreams all at the same time." Her voice sounds so frail as she talks. This is the broken side of Emery. I want to siphon all of her pain away. I'd take it all on my shoulders if I could.
"Maybe it's their way of visiting you," I suggest. I sound helpless and stupid. But she smiles a little, so it's okay.
"Maybe. I don't know. They just feel so far away. Mom died when I was so young that my memories of her are fuzzy. And Nana...w
ell, she took over a lot of maternal roles that I needed. Poor dad, he would have been so out of his element if it weren't for Nana," she laughs a little thinking back. "I think that's why losing her was so hard. It was like losing my mom all over again."
"I can't imagine it, Em. I can't pretend to know what you're feeling about it all. I wish I could take all the pain away." The words fall out, helpless and empty for what they can actually heal. It cuts me to see her hurting, to know that by saving it all up all these years the mountain of pain has to feel insurmountable.
"I miss Nana so much. Sometimes I close my eyes and try and picture her face or hear her voice and I can't do it. She fades away a little more each day and it's my own fault. At first I avoided thinking about it, about her, because it hurt too much. Now, it hurts not to be able to remember clearly. All I want is to be able to feel her again. It kills me."
I see how the admission breaks her. I can see her heart fall to pieces right before my eyes. I wish I could soothe her somehow, make it hurt less. But, I know it's nothing I can fix. I can be here for her as she sort's through it all, but I know she has to do it on her own. Healing can still feel lonely even with a support system around you.
"I know it's hard, Em, but you're finding her every day. Cooking her recipes, dancing at The Lodge. She's still here. She's all around you. Let yourself feel that. Let it start to heal you," I offer. My words sound empty as I say them, but I see her nod in agreement.
"You're right. I think that's why it feels so sharp right now. Because I can feel her. I'm not hiding anymore."
"You are a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for," I say. She looks at me in surprise. "I mean it. You don't see yourself the way I do. You have spent so long piling things on your shoulders that you feel weak. But I see a survivor. That's all strength."
She stares at me like I've grown a second head, but I don't care. She needs to hear it. She needs to believe in herself the way the rest of us do. From what I know about Gabe he never took the time to remind her how wonderful she is. It's a damn shame, because this woman is beyond special. I feel the familiar boil of anger simmering beneath the surface, but I swallow it down for now. Gabe is gone. I'm taking over the reins from here.
She'll never doubt herself again. She'll never go another moment without knowing she is loved, that she is special. When she's ready I will love her out loud. I'll love her in a way that she thought was only reserved for romance novels. I'll love her with an intensity and a sincerity that will move mountains. I’ll be there to move every mountain she faces. And if I can't move it, I'll sure as hell climb it with her. She won't ever be alone again.
This night has been so full of heaviness and I can see that the confessions have worn her down. She's exhausted. I pull her to me, settling her against my chest as I lean back against the corner of the couch. She comes to me easily, needing the comfort of my arms. Her tears still stream quietly down her cheeks and her breathing catches as she tries to rein it all in. As I run my fingers through her hair I whisper quietly in her ear, words meant to assure her. You'll be okay. I've got you. I'm here. Let it out. Rest.
It doesn't take long before she drifts off to sleep. The heaviness of her emotions winning out and taking her under. Her breathing settles, coming out in calm, even movements. I take her in, her scent, her breaths and let it calm my racing heart. I'm in deep with this girl. It only took her a moment to fill the spot she'd left behind. Only now it feels like she fits there even better. Her hold on me is even more complete than it was before. I hope that we can find a way back to where we were. I want to pull her back to the light.
I hope she doesn't run and break my heart again.
I didn't mean to fall asleep, but something about having her in my arms after she had been so vulnerable had taken an emotional toll on me. I open my eyes and realize that she is still curled up against me, her head against my chest, her fingers gripping my shirt as if it is her lifeline. Fuck, if I don't want to be exactly that.
I want to protect her. I want to show her how strong she is and take away all of her doubt. Listening to her talk about her dad had gutted me. I'd had no idea that their relationship had been so strained. I'd just always thought that he hadn't talked to me about her because he thought it would be awkward with our history. To know the truth is surprising and heartbreaking.
It makes me wish I could go back and make sure she never faded out of my life. Maybe if she'd had a friend she wouldn't have gotten so lost. Maybe I could have saved her then. I worry that she won't let me save her now.
But seeing her open up gives me hope. Hope that she is finally facing all of the dark demons that have weighed her down. There is so much that she's carried with her over all these years and I had no idea.
It's no wonder that she finally broke. She's letting it all in now and it's overwhelming to say the least. I smooth her hair as she sleeps and take in the feel of her against my body. I shouldn't love it as much as I do considering what brought us to this moment, but I can't help it. She feels perfect pressed against me, wrapped up tightly in my arms like she's looking to me to fix it all.
I'll do anything in the world to do just that.
I steal a glance at the clock on the television and see that it's two in the morning. I know I have to move us. She won't appreciate waking up like this in the morning. If I know her at all she'll be embarrassed to have revealed so much. I take another few minutes to simply enjoy the feel of her before finally shifting her off of me. She doesn't wake up, she curls to her side and pulls the blanket to her, clinging to it the same way that she'd clung to my shirt.
I could leave her here, but I don't want to. I bend and scoop her up, cradling her in my arms. I can't help but steal a kiss to her forehead as I make my way to the stairs.
"Cole,” she mumbles sleepily against my chest.
"It's okay, just rest. You're okay," I say quietly as I climb each step, carefully. I make it to her bedroom and luckily her bed is unmade and rumpled. I lay her on the mattress and move the covers up and over her body.
Her eyes open slightly and she smiles at me. "Don't leave. Stay with me, Cole."
My heart thumps loudly in my chest as her eyes drift shut and her breathing returns to a deep steady rhythm. I know she's asleep, but the idea of leaving now feels wrong. I stand there for a minute, debating my next move. Finally, the image of her waking up and needing me makes the decision for me. I pull the armchair from the side of the room closer to the bed and take a seat.
If she wants me to stay, then I'll stay. I'll stay right here where I'm available to chase away any nightmare that threatens her. I'll do it because even after all of this time, Emery James still owns my heart.
Emery
I WAKE UP WITH fuzzy memories clinging to the edges of my consciousness. I remember falling asleep with Cole. I'd opened my eyes at one point to see his handsome face relaxed in sleep as he held me. Just the feel of him against me left me feeling warm and safe. This was Cole. My history. And now he was quickly becoming a very big part of my present.
It all feels a little bit like a dream. Like some fantasy my subconscious pulled out without permission.
I stretch feeling rested. The last thing I really remember is waking up on the couch. I don't remember how I got to bed, but it's a pretty safe bet that Cole put me here. Something tugs at my memory, of wanting him to stay. But it feels far off and as I glance around the room I can clearly see that he's not here. It's for the best. If I'd asked him to stay it would have turned weird.
Unfortunately, there is one thing that I do remember perfectly from last night and that’s spilling my heart out to him and confessing everything about my dad and Nana. I can’t lie, it felt good to purge some of that out. And Cole didn't judge me one bit for any of it. Which was a relief. And just one more reason I can't help but feel uneasy about how close we are getting.
Cole and I are friends, and at the end of the day, I need a friend more than I need anything else. That doesn't mean I am s
o blind that I can't see that we are dancing dangerously close to something else. I keep inviting him closer and he keeps accepting. I have no idea where we will end up, but it is something I can't think about yet.
I climb out of bed and make my way downstairs to the kitchen. I told Dad I'd come into the office today so he could show me a few things. Now that I'm settling in he's been adding more to my plate. I think he likes having me there and helping out at the office has been really good for me. I'm learning a lot and the work is keeping me busy and keeping me grounded. Just having a routine to my day has been helpful. Who knows, maybe finding a new normal is the key to healing.
I shuffle over to the coffee pot and start a strong brew. I lean against the counter and wait, lost in thought and examination. It's then that I notice the note near the sugar bowl. I peer down at the strong dark handwriting and can't help smiling.
I forgot how beautiful you are when you sleep. I’m sorry I left before you woke up –You know how mean the boss can get. I’ll see you soon. Love, Cole
So he had stayed. The knowledge does something to my insides. My stomach flips and my nerves flutter with something close to anticipation.
Friends, I remind myself. For now, we are friends. He stayed because he cares. The way an old friend would. It's not smart to look into it any further than that.
I wish I knew how to be friends with the boy I used to love.
