‘Not a good life.’ I chuckled humourlessly. I pulled the sheets up to my nose and inhaled. They smelled so good. So … clean. I sat up in a panic.
The dark room started to fall into shape around me. I looked down at the white bedspread with the pink flowers.
‘Oh hell no!’ I yelled. ‘Sara, what the fuck am I doing here?!’
‘Relax, Em.’ Sara tried to calm me, setting her hands on my shoulders to settle me back into the bed. ‘It’s just one night.’
‘Oh, no, no, no,’ I repeated, shaking my head. The room started to spin, and I couldn’t hold my head up any longer. I collapsed back against the pillow. That’s when I saw his silhouette at the door. ‘I’m not supposed to be here,’ I cried. ‘I’m not supposed to be in yesterday.’
‘I know,’ Sara whispered gently, smoothing my hair behind my ear. ‘It’ll be okay. I’m right down the hall if you need me.’
I fought to keep my eyes open, to insist that she take me away. But I couldn’t think. I needed to stop the spinning. I shut my eyes.
Sara sat by Emma’s side for a moment longer to make certain she was truly asleep. Then she whipped around and stared at me angrily. I ducked back into the hall.
Sara closed the door behind her and turned towards me. ‘I told you this was a horrible idea.’ She ran her hands over her face, suddenly looking exhausted. ‘Why did I let you talk me into this? This is the last thing she needs.’
‘The last thing she needs? What the hell happened to her, Sara?! How could you let her drink?!’ I spat fiercely.
‘What? I know you’ve taken the last two years out on me, but don’t you dare blame me for this! If you brought her here to get back at her in some way, then we’ll leave! I won’t let you fuck her up any more than she already is, Evan!’
I bowed my head. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.’ I inhaled deeply, trying to calm the anger that kept my muscles straining. ‘And I’m not doing this to hurt her.’
Sara released a tense breath.
‘Has she talked to you about it?’ I asked cautiously. ‘Rachel’s suicide?’
‘Does she ever say anything?’ Sara countered with an exasperated sigh. ‘And we haven’t told her the details yet. She wasn’t exactly … with it when I picked her up from the airport yesterday.’
‘So this drinking thing isn’t new?’ I enquired, studying Sara’s blue eyes as she avoided mine, seeing more than she was saying. ‘Do you think she has a problem?’
‘A drinking problem?’ Sara shrugged. ‘Evan, Emma has a life problem.’ She shook her head and started to turn away. ‘I shouldn’t be talking to you about this anyway.’
‘Why not?’ I challenged her. ‘Why can’t I know? Don’t I deserve at least that much? Tell me what happened to her, Sara!’
Sara looked back over her shoulder, her sad eyes brimming with tears. ‘She’s just … broken.’ Her voice cracked. ‘And I’m not sure how to help her.’ She turned away with her shoulders slumped forward, disappearing behind the guest-room door. I remained standing in the hall, looking after her, allowing everything she’d just said to echo through my head.
My fists clenched, I fought the pain and anger coursing through me. I turned towards Emma’s door and set my hands on either side of the door, bowing my head. ‘I don’t understand. Why’d you leave with him, Emma?’ I whispered, then walked towards my room at the end of the hall.
I lay on my bed most of the night with my hands folded behind my head, staring at the dark ceiling, trying to decide what I was going to do when the sun pushed us all into a new day.
I squinted my eyes open. The room was still dark. I considered closing them again, but I had to go to the bathroom. I groaned and pushed the thick blankets back. I was in Evan’s house. In the guest room with the flowers. Shit. I groaned again and eased out of the bed. My feet pressed against the cool wooden floor.
I knew exactly where the bathroom was without having to turn on the light, although my legs weren’t very steady with the vodka still pumping through my system.
When I came back out, I stared at the bed.
How’s your knee?
You did not come in here to ask me about my knee.
I could practically feel his hand slide across my leg.
There was no way I was getting back in that bed.
I crept along the floorboards and eased the door open, peeking out into the hall. It was dark and quiet. I paused in front of his door. My heart convulsed at the sight of it.
‘I shouldn’t be here.’ I muttered as I continued past it and down the spiral staircase.
The stairs creaked on the other side of my door. I sat up and listened. She was awake. I slid off my bed, careful not to make any sound. I thought I heard her talking, but it was so faint I could have imagined it.
Opening the door slightly, I saw her shadow disappear below the landing, down the hall. I followed her.
The familiar scents of the Mathews home filled my senses, and my heart betrayed me with a flutter. I needed out of this house. Now.
I entered the kitchen and unlocked the door that led out onto the back porch. The breeze rustled the tall blades of grass that stretched across the back yard to the woods. As soon as I turned towards the steps, my vision filled with the magnificence of the large oak tree. And there, rocking from its branch, was the swing.
My throat tightened as a small gasp escaped. I blinked back the tears and let the damp grass brush against my bare feet, drawn to the tree. I ran my hand along the coarse bark and searched up through the branches that danced above my head, the light wind rushing through them.
‘I’ve always loved this tree,’ I heard myself say aloud, comforted by its touch.
I’ve always loved that tree, I thought to myself as I watched her run her fingers around the trunk. Her eyes lifted to take it all in. She had always connected with that tree too, making it the perfect location for the swing I’d made for her.
The swing that I’d hoped would keep her coming back here. Back to me.
I held my breath when I saw her grab each rope in her hand and lift herself onto the unsteady board. For a moment, in the reflective light of the moon, I thought I saw her smile.
I fought the urge to go out there, to talk to her. Despite the joy that radiated from her as she pumped her legs, I had to remember that she didn’t want to be here. That her expression would change if she saw me. So I remained on the sun porch, watching as she flew higher into the branches.
I breathed in the crisp night air, the crickets chirping in the field while I savoured the rocking rhythm, increasing my acceleration and height. My hair blew into my face and quickly swept back as I continued my ascent. I closed my eyes and leaned back, straightening my arms and dipping my head so it dared the ground to touch it. A flitter catapulted through my stomach. My cheeks pushed up into a smile.
She continued to glide in the shadows of the oak tree, leaning back so far it looked like she was going to tip over. The wind billowed the skirt of her dress as she extended her legs in front of her. I grinned at the familiar sight. A warm shiver running through me. I leaned against the open door of the sunroom, crossing my arms.
This was the girl I knew. This was the girl I’d loved. And although I didn’t know what had happened to her, I knew I had to find out.
17
Not the Same
THE SUN WAS BLINDING ME WHEN I WOKE ON the wicker chaise. I needed a minute to figure out where I was, but as soon as I did, I jumped up. Emma! I pushed the door open and walked quickly to the other side of the patio, past the pool and through the wooden gate.
I stopped. She was curled in the grass under the oak tree. Her skin aglow in the golden light filtering through the trees. Her skirt spread around her with her legs tucked under it, and her hands were folded under her cheek. She took my breath away. I tensed, not wanting to start looking at her the way I once had. She wasn’t the same girl. And I wasn’t the same either.
I walked over to her. I coul
dn’t leave her out here on the damp grass. I crouched down and gently lifted her into my arms.
She groaned slightly, but didn’t wake as I took her back to the guest room and placed her on the bed. I didn’t linger to watch her sleep. I knew I had to prepare myself for her reaction when she finally awoke – sober and … unpredictable.
I was back in the bed. My body ached with the slightest movement. I was convinced I’d slept on rocks. I groaned and ran a hand over my face.
My phone buzzed. I searched blindly for it, reaching over the edge of the bed into the tote below.
‘Hello?’ I grumbled.
‘How are you feeling?’ Cole asked from the other end.
‘Shoot me now,’ I croaked, flopping my arm over my eyes. ‘Isn’t it super early for you?’
‘I knew you’d be heading to the church soon,’ he explained. ‘I wanted to check on you. Do you remember talking to me yesterday?’
I couldn’t think. Nothing penetrated through the shards of pain splintering through my head. ‘Did I say anything stupid?’
Cole laughed lightly. ‘I’ll pick you and Sara up at the Santa Barbara airport tomorrow. The girls packed your things for you and they’ll meet us there tomorrow night. Call me later if you can.’
‘Okay,’ I responded in a rasp, not really following along. ‘Tomorrow.’
I dropped the phone in my tote, afraid to move from my sprawled position on the bed. Then a rush of saliva filled my mouth, and my stomach turned. I fought to get on my feet and stumbled to the bathroom in time to heave into the toilet, collapsing onto my shaking knees.
I rested my head against the cool porcelain, keeping my eyes closed to prevent the dim light from stabbing through my pupils and into my shrieking brain.
‘Emma?’ Sara called to me from the other room. ‘Emma?’ I heard the bathroom door creak open. ‘Oh God, Emma.’ I heard her gasp, but I couldn’t raise my head to look at her. ‘We have to get you ready.’
‘Just let me lie here and die,’ I pleaded. Another swirl of nausea rushed through me with a chilling sweat, and I leaned my head over as my stomach convulsed.
Sara was beside me, running her cool hand along my damp forehead.
The guest-room door was slightly ajar. ‘Sara?’ I knocked lightly, hearing Sara’s voice in the distance. ‘The car’s here to take you to the church.’
‘We’re in here,’ Sara called to me. I continued into the room cautiously, not certain what I was about to walk in on.
‘Shit.’ The word escaped unfiltered when I saw Sara cross-legged on the bathroom floor with a ghostly pale Emma lying on her lap. ‘Can she get up?’
‘Shh,’ Emma pleaded, wincing. ‘Not so loud.’
I exhaled and said quietly, ‘Sara, what do you want to do? You’re supposed to be at the church in forty minutes.’
‘I know,’ Sara said with a pained face. ‘Umm … let me get her in the shower. Can you call my mother and tell her we need a little more time?’
‘Sure,’ I replied, taking in the scene one more time before walking out of the room. I shut the door, gripping the handle tightly.
‘Come on, Emma. Let’s try to get up,’ Sara coaxed gently, moving slowly to her knees. I forced my body to follow her, my hands shaking as I grabbed the edge of the bathtub.
Sara helped slip off my dress and removed the bandage from my leg as I settled into the bathtub, too weak to provide any assistance.
‘My head hurts so bad.’
‘When was the last time you ate anything?’ Sara questioned, easing my bra from my shoulders.
I shrugged, because I honestly didn’t recall eating a single thing since I’d boarded the plane in California.
The warm water startled me as Sara ran the shower head over my body.
‘Here.’ She handed me a bar of soap. I flipped it in my hands before blindly pushing the lather over my skin.
‘I called your mother,’ Evan hollered from the other room. ‘She said to call her when you’re on your way. I’ll see you at the church.’
‘Evan,’ Sara called to him, abandoning me in the tub with the shower head dangling, spraying my legs.
‘I realize you have no reason to do this, but I need your help,’ Sara said in a rush, sadness dulling her usually bright eyes.
‘What do you need?’ I asked, controlling my tone.
‘We need to get her into the church, and I’m not convinced she can do it on her own, or that I can by myself. Will you stay? Will you help me?’
I nodded, unable to form words. My jaw tightened, realizing Emma was in a far worse condition than I could have imagined. I finally said, ‘I’ll be in the hall. Let me know when you need me.’
‘Do you think you could find something for her headache, and maybe something to eat? She hasn’t eaten in a couple of days.’ Sara’s voice sounded so fragile. I nodded again and left the room.
As I shut the door, I was blindsided by the anger that had been building since we’d found her on the closet floor. I wasn’t even sure who I was angry with, but I couldn’t deny that from the moment I saw her, everything had felt wrong.
I went down the stairs into the kitchen, to find Jared helping my mother into her jacket. I stopped short and tried to ease my clenched fists open.
‘Analise, what are you doing here?’ I asked, eyeing the petite girl standing in the doorway.
She looked up at me with big, sad eyes. ‘I came here for you.’ Her eyes flipped towards my mother, not wanting to have this discussion in front of her.
‘Is everything okay upstairs?’ My mother’s voice was calm, but her brow quirked, letting me know she was very aware of the predicament I was in.
‘Yes,’ I answered carefully. ‘It’s under control.’
‘Well, Jared and I need to make a stop on our way to the church. We’ll see you there?’ She leaned towards me so I could bend down to receive a kiss on the cheek.
‘I won’t be long,’ I told her, glancing again in Analise’s direction, trying to maintain my composure.
Jared kept his eyes to the ground as he and my mother left the house. I could only imagine the thoughts passing through his head.
I turned to Analise. ‘I’m still not sure why you’re here – today, especially.’
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t at the wake last night,’ she said softly, taking a step towards me. She raised her hand as if to touch me, but lowered it again when she noticed my shoulders pull back. ‘I didn’t expect you to go.’
‘Really? I never even considered not going.’
She lowered her eyes, the realization of what that statement meant not sitting well. ‘I thought … I thought you didn’t want anything to do with her?’
I didn’t say anything. That had been the truth, once. And Analise knew that better than anyone. It was hurt and anger wrapped in confusion that had me repeatedly saying that I was over Emma. That I didn’t care if I ever saw her again. But …
Right around the time my mother started letting me travel again, allowing me to be within hours of Emma without her knowing it – those thoughts started to change.
‘Analise, really, what do you want?’ She lifted her head in surprise at my tone. ‘We haven’t even spoken since last summer. I don’t understand why you’re here other than the fact that you know Emma’s in Weslyn.’
Analise’s eyes glistened as her lower lip jutted out slightly. ‘I didn’t want you to get hurt again. I was worried about you, and thought … I thought you might need a friend. Because I still care about you, Evan. And I was hoping to be that friend for you, like I used to be.’
I suddenly felt guilty for my impatient tone. I believed she did have my well-being in mind, but that didn’t mean I wanted her here. ‘I don’t think we can be friends again, Analise. Not after what happened. I’m sorry.’
She nodded, trying to hold back tears. ‘She’s going to destroy you, Evan.’ She turned from me and fled out the kitchen door.
Evan appeared in the doorway with a coconut water in
one hand, and a bottle of aspirin and a muffin in the other. He paused when he saw me sitting on the bed while Sara zipped up the boots that hid my skinned leg. I was afraid they would hurt the raw skin, but the compression actually made it feel better.
I watched him as he placed the items on the bedside table. He didn’t look at me. If my face was any reflection of how I felt, then I must’ve looked worse than death.
‘Ready?’ he asked Sara.
Sara stood up to inspect me, like I was an inanimate object. ‘I think so. I don’t know what to do about your eyes, Em. They’re so puffy and bloodshot.’ She contemplated for a moment. Then she reached for her purse and removed an oversized pair of black sunglasses. ‘Here, keep these on.’
I slid them on my face and instantly felt relief from the pain-inciting glare. Sara handed me two pills, which I washed down with the coconut water. She held out the muffin, but I shook my head with a grimace, feeling my stomach roll just at the thought of eating it.
‘You’re going to have to eat eventually,’ Sara said sternly.
‘I can’t.’ I cringed, swallowing the nausea back down.
‘Can you stand?’ Sara asked.
I nodded, rising to my feet gingerly, holding on to her arm. Evan made a move in our direction when I faltered, but stopped when I regained my balance. He led the way out of the room as I held Sara’s arm.
As much as I tried not to, I couldn’t stop looking at him. A part of me was convinced he wasn’t real. He looked the same, except maybe a little more … built. But, essentially, perfectly the same. Composed and mature in a three-piece suit that fit his tall frame in a way that belonged on the cover of GQ. Maybe that’s what was going on. I was sitting on a plane, reading GQ, and this was all a dream.
Then the flash of pain brought me crashing back to reality. I was here, in Weslyn – to bury my mother. My knees buckled, and I fell to the floor. Sara screamed out, and Evan rushed back up the stairs, sliding his arm behind me to prop me up.
‘Are you okay?’ Sara asked her. Emma’s body felt limp and frail, leaning into my arm.
‘Yeah,’ she muttered, sitting up. ‘I just got dizzy all of a sudden. I’m sorry.’
Out of Breath (The Breathing Series #3) Page 16