Chapter 23
EMMA
That night I have two nightmares. The first time I wake up screaming, I call Ella to calm me down.
She soothes me back to sleep, telling me stories about her current flavor-of-the-month boyfriend.
Since they change so often now, I have a hard time learning their names.
I don’t remember hanging up with her, so when I wake up screaming again, I end up waking her up too.
She calms me down a second time, but I’m restless, so once we hang up I text Daddy Dom.
Sorry it’s late.
Or early? Idk
Had two nightmares tonight and I can’t get back to sleep.
I’m here, pet.
His reply nearly knocks the breath out of me. It’s been eight months since we’ve had any contact, and I honestly didn’t expect him to respond. Before I can think how to reply, my screen lights up with an incoming call. I nearly drop the phone as I fumble to answer it with a breathy “Hello?”
“Emma,” he rasps.
A tear slips down my cheek. “I’m broken. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry to bother you,” I cry. I have no self-control when it comes to this man, but the organ in my chest doesn’t seem to care.
“You’re not bothering me, and you’re not broken. You’re the strongest fucking person I know. You went through a lot of trauma at a young age, and you’ve come out of it a tower of strength. I’m in awe of you.”
I don’t know how to respond to that because while I know he means every word he said, it doesn’t feel true.
Sure, some awful shit happened to me and my mom when I was little, but until Professor A-hole pushed me to dig into my emotions, I couldn’t even remember what had happened.
And once I did, the nightmares slowly receded.
So why have they started up again now? I know my therapist would remind me that healing isn’t linear and that it’s my brain protecting me from perceived threats.
But it stinks when I feel like I’ve done everything right, followed my therapist’s suggestions, only to fall back into the same trauma-fueled dreams.
“But you don’t want to be with me.”
The words hang in the air between us. I can hear his soft breathing as a tear slips down my cheek.
“I wish I could hold you while you slept so I could protect you,” he says, surprising me.
“I wish you were here,” I admit softly as my eyelids get heavy. “But at least I have your letter.”
“Em?” he asks with a hint of concern in his voice.
Even though I should feel comforted that he called, that he showered me with praise, my heart hurts. I know his words are empty and he won’t act on them. I hit the end call button before I can second-guess my decision.
——————
“What part do you think you got?” Rylee asks me at breakfast the next day.
Megan stomps over to us, plops into a chair, and drops her head on the table. “Coffee. Need coffee.”
I hand her the to-go cup I grabbed for her. “Long night?”
“I wish I could regale you with an epic tale of debauchery, but I stayed up way too late writing a paper.”
“Been there,” Rylee and I say in unison.
“Emma, your audition was incredible, I’d be shocked if you don’t get Viola.”
“Agreed,” Megan says, her head still face down on the table as she gives us a thumbs-up.
“Are you sure you don’t want to do more acting? You’re really good at it.”
I think about her words for a minute. I’m good at acting because I’m good at masking. No one would ever know what I’m going through by just looking at me.
I play a million different parts, but none of them feel like me.
When I’m home, I assume the role of the dutiful eldest daughter, doing everything that’s expected of me before I’m even asked.
At school, I become the model student, turning into this people-pleasing teacher’s pet trying to earn the respect of my professors and peers.
Even though Ella is my best friend, school has been so hectic I don’t get to see her anymore, especially since she graduated high school.
And despite the fact that I’m doing all of this for Lizzy, to help others like her, I haven’t spent much time with her outside of school breaks.
Alyx has also been oddly silent since the holidays, and I’m afraid I’ve made things awkward for him at the club with Daddy Dom.
The last time I felt strong was when I was at Pulse at the mercy of Daddy Dom.
But even he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.
He is the only person that has seen the real me, the version I water down for others and dole out in small doses, making myself palatable.
Not everyone understands me and my hang-ups, but he did.
He embraced them, called them strength instead of the weakness they feel like.
I’m failing every person in my life, and the only men that show any interest in me are creeps. Maybe this is what I deserve. I’m too broken to deserve something good, so I suffer through the crap I’m given with a smile on my face. Of course I’m good at acting. I do it in every area of my life.
“Earth to Emma!” Rylee calls.
“No shouty-shouty,” Megan groans.
I give them an awkward smile, letting them think I just can’t take a compliment.
“Oh, there’s Jeremy,” Rylee says, nodding to a spot across the caf. “He’s really sweet, like you can tell he’s one of the good ones.”
Megan’s head pops up as she nods her agreement. “He’s not bad to look at either. He’s got that skinny-hot-nerd-turned-surfer vibe.”
I laugh. “That is oddly specific.”
“And you know what they say about skinny guys. They have the biggest dic—”
“Diction!” I say as Jeremy approaches our table. “Diction is important, and I really should work on mine.” I can feel my cheeks pinken in embarrassment as I try to cover for her loose lips.
“I think you have great diction,” Jeremy says, a boyish smile on his face.
It’s obvious he’s waiting for me to slide over in the booth so he can sit, but I don’t budge.
“Wanna join us?” Megan asks, sliding over so he can sit.
“We were just saying that Emma here should totally get the lead in Twelfth Night,” Rylee says. Her kindness should make me feel good, but I shift nervously under the praise.
“Couldn’t agree more,” Jeremy says. I can feel his focus on me.
Megan turns toward Jeremy in the booth. “Maybe you’ll get Orsino, and the two of you will be scene partners again.”
“I’d like that,” he says softly, his eyes connecting with mine, and I offer a polite smile. “So this is kind of embarrassing, I was actually wondering if any of you had a meal credit left I could snag? Turns out this hungry boy went through all his for the month already.”
“You can use one of mine,” Megan says, holding her card between two fingers. “But will you be a doll and grab me another coffee while you’re up? Today is a two-cupper.”
“Absolutely. I really appreciate it,” he says as he gets up and heads to the line for food.
I watch him as he loads up his tray. He seems genuine, and he was patient with me when we were scene partners last year.
But his attention doesn’t excite me like Daddy Dom’s does.
His touch doesn’t make me feel like I’m simultaneously an inferno and a cold glass of water on a summer’s day.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever find someone else who makes me feel like that again.