Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Alex
Connie
Enough is enough. You need to come home, or the best thing that’s ever happened to you is going to leave.
A
But what if I’m the worst thing thats ever happened to her?
Are you trying to make it true?
She told me to tell you she knows you don’t want to be with her, and it’s okay. So congratulations, son. You’ve done it.
Okay.
The hope was there that she would hit a limit and be done with me so I wouldn’t have to be the one to be done with her. It sounds like she’s there. And now that it’s happening, I…can’t stand the thought of it.
I miss her, desperately. In a way I’ve never felt before. For anyone. It emanates from a deep part of my being that I keep trying to bury. It comes from a place only Emma has ever touched.
Without thought, I grab the keys hanging on the wall beside the garage. I give Georgia’s house a quick once over, making sure all the lights are off, and then I’m out the door. Driven by desperation.
It’s like I have no control. Every good intention is gone. I have one need left. I only have one purpose. And it’s to see her. It’s to tell her what she can’t remember. The truth of it. And then I want to hold and love her and beg her to take me back. If she’ll have me.
When the gate opens to my house, the sun is just setting. The air bites as I step out of my car and into the cold January night. Staring at the house, lit up from within, a choice lingers in the back of my mind, but I push forward. I push against the instinct to turn away.
When I push down on the latch, I expect to hear something. Talking, cooking, life…anything. But the house is ominously quiet. No movement, just a few side lamps lit. No one in sight.
Shutting the front door as quietly as possible, I walk deeper into the house, turning towards her room. The door is cracked, but it’s dark, and my heart races. Will she look the same as she did in the hospital? Worse?
I push on the door gently, and it swings in silently. Emma is curled up on top of the covers, sound asleep, while Blanks sits in a chair beside her, scrolling through his phone. He looks at me sharply and makes no attempt to move.
The odd feeling comes back, the same one I felt bringing her home.
Not mine flits through my mind like lightning.
We stare at each other in some odd faceoff, wondering who will be the first to break. It’s a game of will. I withdrew before. But now, faced with the very real end, I couldn’t. I won’t. Eventually, Blanks stands, passing me brusquely but without a word.
At the sound of his exiting footsteps, Emma rolls to her back, flinging her arms against the bed in exasperation. Her eyes are wide open, as if she’s just been waiting for him to leave this whole time. Like she wasn’t asleep at all.
I take one more step into the room, and she shoots up at the now unfamiliar sound of my boots.
“Alex,” she whispers, sitting up in bed.
The knot in my throat feels tight. Even in the dim light, her pale skin practically glows. She looks only moderately better than the last I saw her. I fucking hate what I’ve done to her.
“Em,” is all I can manage back, each swallow more uncomfortable than the last.
“W-what are you doing here?” she continues to whisper.
“I-um…” I struggle to find the right thing to say here. Because there is no right thing, that’s the problem. “I’m sorry.” It comes out gravely, my voice hoarse.
She seems to visibly swallow.
“I’m sorry, too,” she whispers back words that damn near break me. She has not one thing to be sorry for. Not one fucking thing.
I take a few steps closer.
“You will never need to be sorry to me. Ever.”
“I feel like I do-”
I stop her, though, “You don’t.” I stand there, and she sits in silence for more than a minute.
“Did you just come to say goodbye, or….” she chokes on her own words.
“No,” voice is gruff, even worse than before.
I take another step, then one more, until I’m standing beside her bed.
“I’m not expecting to be forgiven, but I couldn’t let go without at least telling you why I can’t be here.
” This is it. I would tell her the truth, ask forgiveness, then make peace with whatever her decision is.
“I forgive you,” she says, no longer in a whisper.
“I haven’t even-” but she stops me again.
“It doesn’t matter, Alex. I love you more than whatever it is you’ve done. More than your absence the last few weeks. I will always want you. No matter what. And maybe that makes me a fool…”
I fall to my knees beside the bed. “I-I don’t deserve you, Em. Really-”
“Maybe, but I know I do deserve a husband who’s here with me.
And if you need my forgiveness for that to happen, then I’m happy to give it.
I’m so tired of waking up angry and hurt.
Every. Single. Day. So, please. Can we just forgive and forget?
Well, I suppose I’ve already forgotten…” She laughs, then sniffles.
“Emma,” I whisper, incapable of finding additional words. Incapable of telling her when she was offering me this gift. “I love you.”
“You’ll tell me when you stop, right?” I would never stop loving her, ever.
“Sure, sweetheart, just don’t expect it to happen soon.” I pick up her hand and kiss the top of it. She eventually lays back down while I stay kneeling beside the bed, holding her hand. Once I think she’s drifted off, I get up to go sleep in the chair.
“Are you coming to bed?” she asks, eyes still closed.
“Of course,” I answer, kicking off my boots, tearing away my shirt, and unbuckling my belt.
I get into bed on the opposite side, giving her plenty of space.
But as soon as I’m settled, she moves under the covers and finds me.
Her body feels frail against mine, and I hate myself a little bit more because of it.
But it doesn’t matter. I’ll hold her like this as long as she needs. Like she held me.
I brush the stray strands of hair out of her face before placing a kiss on her forehead. I love you.
Then I leave her.
My mind is too busy, my body too restless to continue lying there until she wakes up. So I sneak out of bed to take the dog out and make coffee.
I missed Delta, too.
I throw on the same clothes I wore last night and exit her room as quietly as possible. Again, the main floor is eerily quiet, but when I round the corner to the kitchen, Delta rushes, full of surprise, to see me.
“Hey, boy.” He jumps, licking me, tail wagging, like this is the best surprise ever.
In contrast, Blanks stands on the opposite side of the kitchen island, far less enthused.
“Changed your mind?” he asks, slipping his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
“Yeah,” I reply.
“Man, must be nice.” I stand up from where I was crouched down to pet Delta.
“What must be nice?”
“It’s just like Amy all over again.” His words nearly send me.
“What’s just like Amy all over again?” I hold my breath.
“You know what,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Guess you changing your mind is my cue to get the fuck out, right? Regardless of the fact that I’ve been the one here, every second of every day.
” He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re the most selfish man to ever live, you know that?
” His words are like a vice around my heart.
He walks around the kitchen island to pass me, but I stop him. My hand hits his chest, halting him in his retreat. He looks down at my hand, then back at me. My breathing thick, matching his.
“You should have told me,” I say, gritting my teeth.
“It wouldn’t have mattered even if I did,” he grinds out. I fight back the urge to curl my fist in his t-shirt.
He’s right, though. It wouldn’t have mattered.
“Don’t go,” I tell him, meaning it.
“And why shouldn’t I?” he seethes back. He moves in closer, his face nearly in mine now, my hand still splayed across his chest.
“Mr. Palomino,” Becks says with surprise. “You’re here.”
The moment shatters, and Blanks pushes past my hand and leaves me in the kitchen.
“Yeah,” I turn to the nurse, “I’m back.” She nods at me while following Blanks with her eyes.
“I’m going to shower, but when I’m out, I’d love to sit down and talk about Emma’s progress.
Can we do that?” She nods, giving me a look somewhere between annoyance and discomfort.
“Great.” On our last few nightly phone calls to review Emma’s status, I thought I heard disdain in Beck’s voice. Being in person confirms it. Great.
“Caleb!” I can hear her shout over the sound of the faucet running. I turn it off and listen to what sounds like muffled crying. Terrified and still half naked, I take off, running down the stairs, rounding the hallway corner following the sounds.
“It just felt so real,” I hear Emma say, heaving a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just please, promise me you won’t leave me.” I stand in the doorway to Emma’s room, not fully prepared for the sight in front of me.
The sight of Emma curled into a ball in Blanks’s lap, her hands fisting his shirt as she cries nearly hysterically. His hands are threaded through her hair as he whispers back, “Never. I’ll never leave you.”
“Em?” I ask softly, drawing her attention.
“Alex?” she questions back. She slowly releases Blanks’s t-shirt but doesn’t move out of his embrace. Meanwhile, Blanks glares at me.
“Are you okay?” I ask, stepping past Becks, who is also in the room.
She sniffles before answering, “What are you doing here?” She couldn’t remember last night? Of course, that was more than I deserved.
“I came home last night…” I try to remind her gently, “Do you remember?” She stares at me long and hard.
“Maybe…” she eventually rasps out. “I-I thought it was a bad dream.”
“Bad?”
“Well, I don’t know,” she cries a little bit. “I was so relieved, but then I woke up and was alone again...it didn’t feel real. I wasn’t expecting to see you, I guess.” As innocently as possible, she’s taken my heart and stomped on it.
Becks gives me the side eye, a disapproving glare plastered on her face. The same glare is still plastered on Blanks’s face.