by Kait Nolan
Fiona began to cry.
“And tonight…I should have remembered. I was caught up in my own shit, but that’s no excuse. I should have remembered and been there. I should never have let you walk out mad. We should have talked it out, like we always do. And we should have made triple chocolate cupcakes with some obnoxious, decadent twist that your mom would have loved. I should have been planning that for weeks. I shouldn’t have been off galivanting with Caleb. I should have told you about him from the beginning. I should have trusted that we could all get through it.” Losing track of all the things she was apologizing for, Emerson swallowed, trying to catch enough breath to keep speaking through the tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for all of it. I won’t mess up again. I won’t leave you.”
“It wasn’t you.”
She lifted her head to find tears tracking down Fiona’s cheeks. “What?”
“It wasn’t you, that night. Wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”
“What are you talking about?”
“If I hadn’t been such a wimp, if I’d just stuck it out at that sleepover and not called her, nobody would have gotten hurt. If I hadn’t called, she wouldn’t have come. She wouldn’t have died.”
Oh. Oh God. Had this child really carried the guilt of that all these years?
Emerson struggled to pull herself together, to find some kind of rationale to battle this. “No. Don’t you dare blame yourself. Your mom would never have wanted you to stick it out somewhere you were uncomfortable. Never. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
Fiona sniffed. “If I can’t blame myself, then neither can you. I wasn’t your responsibility. You didn’t have to answer the phone.”
That was technically true. But that didn’t make it any easier to stop thinking of all the what ifs.
As if reading her mind, Fiona kept talking. “Caleb told me once that the what ifs are the hardest part when you’re the one who survives. But that the only person at fault for the accident is the guy who chose to drive drunk. He got behind the wheel. He killed my mother. Not me. Not you. We don’t get to hold on to that guilt. It’s not our burden to bear.”
Damn if that didn’t make Emerson want to start sobbing again. Because even not here, Caleb was reaching out, making things just a little easier to handle.
“He’s not wrong. That’s hard to remember sometimes, in the moment, when I’m missing her so much.” She sniffed and wiped at the tears. “I’m still sorry I missed Chocolate Cupcake Day.”
“Can we have a do-over when I get out of here?”
She didn’t know when that would be or how much Fi would be able to do with her arm and shoulder immobilized. But she’d make the world spin backward if that’s what her girl needed.
“We can absolutely have a do-over.”
And maybe on the other side of it, she’d figure out how to go back to her old life.
Chapter 15
The glare of an overhead light had Caleb blinking awake, already halfway vertical on the sofa, hands curled to fists, before he spotted the intruder. Well, technically, he was the intruder.
Kyle stood in the entryway to his loft apartment, a guitar case at his feet and a duffel bag thrown over one shoulder. “You look like shit.”
At least that’s what Caleb thought he said. He couldn’t actually hear the words past the audiobook still playing on his headphones. One of Emerson’s, of course. It was the only way he’d been able to get any sleep since he’d given her what she wanted and walked away. Tugging out the earbuds, he scrubbed a hand over his head and squinted at his brother. “What the hell are you doing home? I thought you were in Maryland or some shit for the tour.”
“There’s a thirty-six-hour lag until our next performance. I got a notice from the security system when you got here, and when you didn’t answer my calls, I figured I’d better come home to find out why the hell you came to my place and never left. Did something happen with Emerson?”
He gave a bitter laugh. “No. Nothing’s happened with Emerson. It’s been fucking two weeks, and she’s still shutting me out.”
Coming further into the room, Kyle eyed the empty whiskey bottle and takeout containers on the coffee table. “I feel like you’re skipping some details. Last time I saw you two, everything was peachy.”
“Yeah, well, last time I saw you, you swore there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d get together with Mercy Lee Bradshaw, and there’s that photo of your lip lock flying all over social media right now.” Not that he’d given much of a shit about that due to his own personal circumstances.
Kyle scowled and prowled into his kitchen. “Fucking tabloids. That wasn’t what it looked like. I swear to God, she ambushed me. But quit changing the subject. What happened with Emerson?” Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he held it up in invitation.
Caleb shook his head, feeling his brain bang against the confines of his skull. He’d had his night to get drunk off his ass. That was his rule. One and only one. The hangover had been fierce and still wasn’t quite gone. He wouldn’t do anything to add to it.
“I took her home for the reunion to meet the family.”
“What? Like everybody?”
“Every last one. You were missed, by the way.”
Kyle grunted. He rarely went home to Eden’s Ridge, blaming it on his touring schedule and career commitments. But Caleb knew better.
“She was there, at the reunion.”
“Yeah, you just said you took her.”
“Don’t play dumb. You know I’m talking about Abbey.”
“Unless you’re about to tell me she’s spontaneously forgiven me, it’s a moot point.”
They were both so damned pigheaded.
“She might, if you’d man the fuck up and talk to her.”
With admirable calm, Kyle dropped into a chair and propped his booted feet on the edge of the coffee table. “We aren’t talking about me and my mistakes. Quit avoiding the subject. Did the family scare Emerson off?”
Recognizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere with his brother, Caleb dropped it. “No. In fact, the trip leveled us up in our relationship.”
“Leveled you up how?”
“Talking about what we wanted. Commitment. A future together. A baby.”
Kyle promptly sprayed his mouthful of beer and began to cough and wheeze. “A baby?”
If not for his own misery, the look of thunderstruck horror on Kyle’s face might have made him smile. “I realize this is a shock to you, but some of us are actually thinking about settling down and having a family.” He wanted that with every fiber of his being. Wanted to feel her belly growing round with their child beneath his hand. Wanted to marry her. He still wanted it all, on whatever timeline she was okay with.
Kyle retrieved a kitchen towel and began to mop up the mess. “Yeah, but isn’t that getting ahead of things?”
Was it? Caleb hadn’t felt like it at the time. The whole thing had felt like the natural evolution for them. They’d been on the same page when they got back from Eden’s Ridge. He’d been sure of it. But maybe that had been wishful thinking.
“Doesn’t matter. That wasn’t the problem.”
“What was, then?”
“Fiona was in an accident. She’s all right. Or will be, once she’s done healing. But the whole thing triggered Emerson. All the progress we’d made just—” He waved his hand. “—poof. She shut me out and shut me down. Like the last four years didn’t happen. Said she couldn’t do this anymore.”
“‘This’ being…”
“Us, I guess. I know she was scared. I figured I’d back off like she wanted, and once she really knew Fi was okay, she’d settle down and come back. I kept tabs on them both through my contacts at the hospital.”
“Creepy much?”
“Necessary. I needed to know they were okay, even if Emerson wouldn’t let me close to help. But Fiona’s out, home now. And other than a text to let me know that, Emerson hasn’t said a damned word.”
�
�You haven’t seen them?”
“No. Fiona’s texted me a few times, and I’ve put her off, saying I had to work. Used to be, I’d have just walked on over to check on them. But I don’t feel like I can now. I don’t know what kind of headspace Em is in, and I don’t want to put her on the spot. So I’m stuck waiting.” And he was beginning to wonder if he’d be waiting forever.
“And you’re camped out at my place because why?”
“Because it’s too fucking hard to be right next door and not just go over there. She wanted space, and I’m trying to give it to her.”
Kyle studied him. “Bro, have you considered that ‘I can’t do this’ doesn’t count as ‘I need space’ in this instance? She might really be done.”
Caleb shot to his feet. “No. She’s not done. We’re not done.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I love her!” he exploded. “And she loves me.”
“Has she said so?”
He opened his mouth to answer and shut it again. She’d never said the words. Not outright. But she wouldn’t have been talking about having a child with him if she didn’t love him. He wasn’t just some anonymous sperm donor because she felt her biological clock ticking. She wouldn’t have even been thinking in that direction if not for him changing things between them. She’d talked about a future and commitment. He’d been part of that fantasy she’d built. He refused to believe it was only that.
“She loves me,” he repeated.
“And what if that’s not enough? Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes you can love somebody with everything you are and fuck it up or the timing is off or the damned planets never align. Sometimes fear is bigger than everything else.”
What if he was right? What if she was too afraid to take a real chance on him, on them? If he hadn’t proved to her by now that they could weather anything, would she ever believe it?
But Kyle wasn’t talking about Emerson. He couldn’t be. He was the one too chicken shit to face whatever had happened with Abbey, so he was projecting.
Caleb shook his head. “I can’t believe that. Because if love isn’t enough, then what the hell have I been doing with my life for the past four years?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
“Fuck you.”
Caleb’s phone vibrated with a text. He lunged for it on the table. But it wasn’t Emerson’s name on the screen. It was work.
“Multiple alarm fire. I’m being called in. I gotta go.” Shoving on his shoes, Caleb made a fast pass through the room to grab up his essentials.
Kyle frowned. “Are you in any shape to be going out on the job?”
“I’m sober and I’ve worked through worse.” Besides, if Emerson didn’t change her mind, the job would be the only thing he had left.
“I’ll be by to grab the rest of my stuff later. I know I didn’t ask, but thanks for letting me crash here.”
“No problem.”
“You heading out tonight?”
“I’ll go back tomorrow. Looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.” He followed Caleb to the door, pausing to haul him in for a tight, back-thumping hug. “Be safe, brother.”
Caleb squeezed back, grateful for his support, even if he was a pain in the ass. “Always.”
Then he hauled ass to his truck and headed for the only part of his life that still made sense.
“Thanks for letting me come join for cupcakes. I’m between men at the moment, and I can absolutely use the chocolate pick-me-up.”
Emerson worked up a smile for Paisley. She was grateful her friend had come to join in. It would help distract from her own relative lack of enthusiasm. If either of them asked, it would be easy to blame everything on exhaustion. As the stress of the accident and Fiona’s surgery and subsequent recovery had settled over her like a fog, she’d just felt herself pulled down, down, down. All she wanted to do was sleep. Not that she was doing that, either. Lack of rest had her riding that faint edge of nausea that had been her normal for so long after Micah’s death.
Hello burnout, my old friend. I have not missed you.
While the two of them worked on cupcake batter, Emerson took Mooch through his training. If her attention was on the dog, they were less likely to ask questions.
“Pass me the butter,” Paisley ordered.
Fiona picked up the sticks of softened butter and handed them over. She was learning to manage with one arm in a sling and had, with Emerson’s help, been working on making up her missed classwork. Her shoulder was healing well. Everything had stabilized in her life again.
And it all felt wrong without Caleb.
He hadn’t come by. Why should he? She’d told him she was done. That she couldn’t do a relationship anymore. But a part of her had still expected him to do what he’d always done and be what she needed despite her. But this go round she was getting none of the breaks. None of the support. She was starting to realize exactly how much she’d taken him for granted all this time.
She’d believed she’d been a single parent, but she hadn’t. Not completely. He’d made himself so thoroughly a part of the fabric of their lives, she hadn’t realized the extent to which he’d impacted the warp and weft of it until that thread had been yanked out—by her—wrecking everything.
Fiona perused the selection of fun-sized candy they’d gathered for stuffing and topping the cupcakes as Paisley finished mixing the batter.
“We should do Rolos for the caramel.”
Emerson circled her finger in the air and Mooch flopped on his back and rolled over. She tossed him a tiny piece of Pupperoni. “You don’t like caramel.”
“But Caleb does. He’s been working so much overtime lately, I thought we could take some to the station.”
For the first time all night, Emerson really tuned in to the conversation. “How do you know that?”
Fiona shot her a sideways glance. “I’ve texted him. He said that’s why he hasn’t been by to see me.”
Was that true? He didn’t seem to be home, and she’d sure as hell looked. Not that she’d gone over there. Seeing him right now would be too damned hard. She’d thought maybe he felt the same and was avoiding them both. Maybe he had picked up some extra shifts. But there were limits to how much he could legally work before he absolutely had to have downtime for safety’s sake.
Cupcakes would be a nice gesture and a way for Fiona to get her own relationship with him back on track to something resembling normal. No reason for her to suffer because of Emerson’s stupidity.
“You’re welcome to take some to him.”
Fi frowned. “Why wouldn’t you go?”
This wasn’t something she wanted to talk about. But keeping her mouth shut was part of how they’d gotten here in the first place. Might as well be honest. “I don’t think he wants to see me right now.”
“Why not?
“We broke up.” Admitting it out loud made her stomach lurch, and the little bit of dinner she’d managed earlier threatened to come back up.
Paisley narrowed her eyes in a glare Emerson knew entirely too well. “We or you?”
No point in denying the truth. “Me.”
“Why?” The question wasn’t delivered in the accusatory tone she’d expected, so it was somewhat easier to answer.
“I just realized I don’t have the bandwidth for a relationship. We were getting in too deep, too fast, and I couldn’t…” She trailed off, taking a breath to ward off the tears that were never far away. “Fiona has to be my priority.”
“Wait, hold the phone. Why am I the reason? Did you suddenly miss the fact that I’m eighteen?”
The return of her sass made Emerson feel an iota better. “I didn’t miss anything. You are my everything, and I won’t put you in another situation where you’re at risk.”
Fiona stared at her. “How the hell does you not being with Caleb keep me from being at risk?”
“You were upset we were involved. You left here upset that night and weren’t fully pay
ing attention to the road. That’s on me.”
“What the actual fuck?” Fi exploded.
“Language,” Emerson warned.
“No. Seriously. I wasn’t upset you were dating Caleb. Why would I be? You two are perfect together. I totally pushed him into making sure you were okay after I left in hopes he’d finally do something about it.”
Emerson’s mouth fell open. “You…what? But…I don’t understand. If you wanted him to make a move, why were you upset?”
“Because you didn’t tell me about it! The same way Mom didn’t tell me about her guy.”
“Wait, wait. Micah was involved with someone?”
“Yeah. For a couple of years before the accident, I think. I never met him. Never even knew his name. I heard her on the phone with him once, and I think he really wanted to escalate their relationship but she wouldn’t do it because of me. What the hell is up with the grown-ups in my life thinking I can’t handle them having relationships with somebody other than me?”
Emerson’s brain reeled at the idea that Micah had been dating someone. “She never told me. Not a word.”
“I don’t know why she didn’t tell anybody. I think she worried about being judged.”
“Or maybe she wanted to keep her life compartmentalized,” Paisley suggested.
As Emerson had. “Mom life versus woman life,” she murmured. “Sometimes it’s hard to merge the two.”
“Oh bullshit.” Paisley dropped the batter scoop into the bowl with a wet thunk. “The idea that they aren’t one and the same is some idiocy propagated by the patriarchy. Women are brainwashed into believing their only value is in being human givers, never allowed to be human beings with wants and desires and dreams of their own. They keep subjugating their needs beneath everyone else’s and are quietly suffocating because they’re giving away all of themselves. Is that really the behavior you want to model for Fiona?”
“I’m not—”
“Except you are. Don’t you remember what she said on move in day? That she’s not having kids because she can’t possibly live up to the example you set.”
