CHAPTER NINETEEN Emily
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Emily
I n a heartbeat. The words echo even as I wake up with a throbbing headache, somehow peacefully tucked in my bed.
I groan, rolling onto my back, staring at the ceiling as the memories from last night come in bits and pieces. Laughter. Drinks. Dancing. Joshua . Then it all comes rushing back in hazy flashes. The way I rambled my deepest fears to him, the way I stumbled into him, how he held me steady, how I poked his chest like an idiot and— shit . My stomach flips, but not because of the hangover.
Did I really ask him to kiss me?
Oh, God. I did. I cover my face with my hands, hoping the blankets will swallow me whole. Of all the drunk confessions, Emily . I could have admitted to a gazillion other things. But no, I had to admit that I’ve been thinking about kissing him. Worse, I asked him to. Even worse, he said he’d do it.
I scream into my pillow one more time, as if the embarrassment will slide away with each shriek. My phone buzzes with a text from Haley, asking me to meet up at the Corner Bistro. At the idea of breakfast, my stomach growls loudly.
So, I sit up, the world spinning around me. I’m still wearing yesterday’s dress, but I have a giant hoodie on. Josh’s hoodie. How the hell am I going to give it back to him without melting into an embarrassing pile of goop?
I take a deep breath. I could pretend I don’t remember any of it. I mean, I was totally disoriented, right? Who knows what I was saying or doing? It’s a perfect excuse to just... brush it off. Besides, this is all his fault. He’s the one who told me to let loose and have fun. He said he’d take care of everything—of me. Well, he did. Now I’m the idiot walking around in his hoodie, contemplating how to act like a human being around him.
But... shouldn’t I thank him? I mean, he did look after me and made sure I didn’t make an even bigger fool of myself. Except for the whole kiss thing. Maybe I could thank him for everything except that.
But what if he brings up my ridiculous request? What if he teases me about it? I can already imagine that smug look on his face and that handsome grin he has whenever he’s sure he got under my skin. Or worse, what if he pretends it didn’t happen at all, and I’m just left hanging with all these... feelings?
No, no, no. Feelings are a bit of a stretch. Maybe I could call it flutters? Panic-induced flutters? Little parasites munching on my insides? Yep. Better.
I glance down at the hoodie and tug it tighter around me. Despite the fact that I slept in it, it still smells like him—like car perfume, deodorant, and shampoo all mixed together. And that’s not helping either.
After one more final groan, I get up and get ready for the day. I change out of the dress, but I put on some shorts and a tank top, putting Joshua’s hoodie over it. For a second, I remember that I am in Magnolia Heights and not New York. I give it a quick French tuck, the front of the hoodie neatly tucked into my shorts, just enough to make it clear to anyone I might run into today that I am, in fact, wearing pants. Because while I may not be ready to face my feelings, I’m definitely not ready for the judgmental looks that would come from walking around like I rolled out of bed in nothing but this hoodie.
When I arrive at our kitchen, my mother and sister are already there. Lila is looking at me with a smirk, while my mom is looking at me with sheer disbelief.
“Emily,” she starts, her tone drenched in that special blend of parental disapproval and exasperation. “I know you’re old enough to make your own decisions.” Oh, here we go. I brace myself. I know exactly where this is headed. “But please, alcohol is not the answer. You know what happens to drunkards.”
Drunkards? Really? She launches into a lesson on the virtues of moderation, the importance of self-control, and of course, the proper ways a woman should behave in public. Overall, she’s lecturing me like I set the house on fire. It’s like being responsible your entire life doesn’t count for anything. You mess up once and everyone’s ready to point fingers.
“Sorry, Ma,” I manage to say, even though my brain is swirling with all the things I want to say but can’t. I plaster on a smile that’s about as real as the plastic flowers on our dining table. “It won’t happen again.”
“Good,” she says, and I can already see the lecture winding down as she heads over to the fridge to pour herself some water. But of course, just when I think I’m off the hook, she continues, “Oh, and don’t forget, your sister’s school fees are due in a week.”
Right. Of course. Because why not? Let’s just pile that on top of everything else.
This is the life of the eldest daughter, right? You’re not just responsible for yourself; you’re responsible for everyone else too. Lila’s school fees, keeping the house in order, making sure everyone’s okay—all while trying to hold on to the tiniest pieces of yourself. And the worst part? One mistake, one slip, is all it takes for people to forget everything you’ve done right. You can give everything, but it’ll never feel like enough. Not to them, and sometimes not even to yourself.
I let out a quiet sigh as I glance at Lila, who’s still smirking at me, completely oblivious to the inner storm raging in my head.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll take care of it.” The words roll out of my mouth before I have the chance to think about them. Because it’s second nature. That’s what I do. I take care of things.
My mother gives a satisfied nod, as if everything’s back to normal, as if that one lecture has restored the natural order of things. Oh, well. It’s not like I’m gonna confront her about it. So yeah, I guess everything is back to normal.
I walk out without another word and begin walking on the sidewalks. It’s still raining, so I’m thankful that I’m wearing Joshua’s hoodie. No one will question it anyway, since we’re supposed to be a couple after all. I wipe a tear that involuntarily escaped my eye, and pause to compose myself. I take deep breaths and clear my mind of what happened in the dining room. I’m not going to let it get to me. Not today.
For a second, I think about Dad. I swear I can still hear his voice when I need it most. He would’ve told me to ignore Mom’s nagging. He always knew how to make me laugh when things felt unbearable and would remind me that it was okay to mess up sometimes. But he’s not here. He hasn’t been here for thirteen years. And even though I’ve learned to live without him, there are days like today when the absence feels heavier, like an ache that never really fades.
Instead of going deeper into my sadness, I try to convince myself it’s just normal motherly talk after seeing her daughter come home drunk. Nothing serious. Nothing against me. Just because I act as everyone’s shoulder to lean on, it doesn’t give me the right to step on her parenting. Keep your mouth shut, and just endure it a little bit more, Emily.
After I’m convinced I can at least act okay, I continue walking.
The familiar smell of coffee and bacon hits me as I push open the door to the Corner Bistro, and I can’t help but smirk when I see my friends scattered at the table. Haley is in full recovery mode, wearing oversized sunglasses indoors while demolishing a mountain of fries like it’s the cure for all her sins. Kate, the early riser, is already bright-eyed and chirpy, her coffee cup halfway empty. And Bon? Well, Bon is fast asleep. Again. She’s nestled into Ryan’s shoulder, her head propped up only by his hand as he calmly holds her in place while reading a book. How he manages to make that look normal, I’ll never know. Overall, we look like the four horsemen of hangovers.
I squeeze in beside Haley, and she looks up at me with a pained nod.
“Fry?” she says hoarsely, extending her bowl of fries to me. I take a handful and shove it in my mouth.
Bon grunts all of a sudden, and she props herself up. “Help,” she says. “It’s our wedding in three days and I think I’ll be sick for weeks on end.”
“She’s just being dramatic as usual,” Ryan says. “As are all of you. It’s a hangover, not a disease.”
“I love you,” Bon says as she pats his cheek. “And you’re right, it’s not a disease… It’s the freaking plague.” She glares at him as he chuckles.
We’re too busy complaining and talking over each other that I don’t notice Joshua showing up.
“Good morning, Tantrum,” he says as he places a plate of pancakes in front of me. “Eat up.” He takes a seat beside me, and I scoot closer to Haley. He follows.
I stare at him, unsure of how I’ll act around him. Do I acknowledge the events of last night?
“Hey,” I manage, after what feels like an eternity of awkward silence. He tips his baseball cap, giving me that all-too-familiar nod, his smirk just barely visible. He’s in his usual attire—black shirt, black pants, and the cap, of course. Joshua always wears black, as if the scorching heat of Manila isn’t enough punishment already.
“That’s it? ‘Hey?’” He raises an eyebrow, pouring me a cup of coffee like this is all perfectly normal. “You called me for a rescue mission at midnight, tried to dance on not one, but three tables, and—” He pauses, grinning, “—you vomited on my shoes.” I choke on my breath. I vomited? That wasn’t part of the memory bank from last night.
“And all I get is ‘hey?’” he continues, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
“If you’re gonna be smug about it, yeah,” I roll my eyes.
“Alright, alright. I’m sorry, baby.” He winks, clearly not sorry at all. “Talk to me after the pancakes. Maybe you’ll be kinder.”
I nudge him playfully, grateful for the distraction as I dig into the pancakes. Sweet, syrupy goodness—exactly what I need to soak up whatever remnants of bad decisions are still lingering in my system. I notice Joshua watching me as I eat, but surprisingly, it doesn’t bother me as much as it should.
After I take the final bite, I say, “Okay, I’m done.” I turn to Josh and continue, “Thank you for last night. You were very helpful. I’m sorry for vomiting on your shoes.” I sip my coffee, hoping that sounds casual enough to cover the absolute mess I was in.
“You’re welcome,” he replies, his voice dropping as he leans in closer. Too close. “Are you sober now?”
His warm breath against my ear sends an unexpected jolt through me. I almost spit out my coffee but manage to keep it together, barely.
“Yeah, why?” I ask, feigning innocence, even though my heart is thumping a little too fast. I glance at him, and of course, that was a mistake. Our faces are inches apart. My mind glitches, and I whip my head back around, nearly knocking over my cup in the process. Joshua chuckles softly.
“Nothing. Just checking if you remembered something... important.” He leans back, crossing his arms casually, but I can feel his eyes on me, tracing every awkward move I make. “You can keep the hoodie, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I say. I can’t do this. Every word out of Joshua’s mouth is making me blush. Any second now, the girls sitting beside me—who, miraculously, haven’t interrupted with their usual snarky comments—are going to notice that I’m acting way too flustered for someone who’s supposedly already Joshua’s girlfriend.
I need to regain control before they start asking questions, before he starts teasing me again, before I completely lose it and start blushing over pancakes.
“Listen, thanks for breakfast, but I should get going,” I say quickly, standing up before anyone can stop me. The need for fresh air is suddenly overwhelming. “I’ve got things to do.”
I don’t wait for a reply, storming out of the café as if my legs have a mind of their own. My heart is still racing, my thoughts a mess, but I barely have time to breathe before I see him .
Standing there, on the other side of the street, is the last person I ever wanted to run into again. Oh no. I can feel the pancakes come back up, and I have to pause to keep it together. It’s just Rob. He’s an ex-boyfriend. I can face him. I can do it.
No , I don’t think I can do it. Not alone, anyway.
In a state of panic, I turn my back to return to the store. But as soon as I open the door, Joshua steps out, nearly bumping into me.
“Hey, you okay? Did I do something—” I cut him off, shaking my head frantically.
“No, it’s nothing. But I do have a problem now,” I blurt out, my voice trembling slightly. Joshua raises an eyebrow, clearly confused.
“What kind of problem?” he asks, his tone soft but laced with concern.
I glance over my shoulder nervously, then look back at him. “He’s here. It’s really him.”
Joshua follows my gaze, and it takes a moment for him to connect the dots. But when his eyes land on Rob, recognition flashes across his face. “Ah, Rob,” he says, his voice darkening just a little. “So how do you want to play this out, Em? I’m willing to do anything you ask me to.”
I panic. My brain scrambles for a plan, a solution, anything to get me out of this situation, and before I can stop myself, the words fly out. “Kiss me.”
“What?” Joshua blinks, clearly caught off guard. His eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t move.
This might be the most reckless decision I’ve made here so far. Goodbye, rules. Farewell, common sense. You will be missed.
“I’m sober, and I’m asking you to kiss me. Will you?” The words tumble out, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. This is everything I tried to avoid earlier, but here I am. Maybe I’m overdoing it, but something in me wants this. Wants to show Rob exactly what he lost… and, frankly, kiss Josh.
Joshua’s lips twitch, fighting a smile. “So you do remember?”
I swallow, my nerves threatening to get the better of me, but I force myself to stay calm. “Yes. And I remember you saying you’d do it in a heartbeat. It’s been at least five heartbeats, and I am still standing here, kiss-less.
“Do I have to beg? Do I—?”
I don’t get to finish the sentence. Before I can even process what’s happening, Joshua flips his baseball cap around and steps closer. He cups my face gently, his rough palms surprisingly tender against my skin, and then, without another word, he presses his lips to mine.
The world around us fades in an instant, leaving only the two of us in this moment. His lips are soft, warm, yet firm, and the kiss... oh my goodness , the kiss. It’s not rushed or frantic—it’s slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring it, like he’s been waiting for this. His hand slips to the small of my back, pulling me closer, and I can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my chest, matching the wild rhythm of my own. My hands instinctively find their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if to anchor myself, because, honestly, I’m about to topple over from all this intensity.
Then, I fling my arms over his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss, desperate for more of that electric connection. The rain pattering around us, the street noise, even the weight of Rob’s stare—all of it fades into the background. There’s only Joshua, and the way his lips move against mine.
He grunts softly when my fingers tangle in his hair, and I feel a surge of satisfaction. He’s into this as much as I am, and that thought alone sends another thrill through me.
As the kiss slows, I pull back just slightly, his breath warm against my lips. He lingers there for a moment, his forehead resting lightly against mine. My pulse races, and it takes everything in me not to pull him back in.
“You don’t ever have to beg,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, his eyes still closed as if he’s savoring the closeness. “Not to me.”
I stay there, breathless, my heart still pounding as his words sink in. For a moment, everything feels suspended, like we’re caught in this bubble where nothing else matters. Not Rob. Not the awkwardness of last night. Just... us. Like it was, that night in New York.
And then reality hits, crashing back in like a wave. I’m standing here, wrapped in Joshua’s arms, my lips still tingling from the kiss, and Rob is probably watching the entire scene unfold.
I pull back completely, trying to regain some sense of composure. But even as I step away, my heart feels tethered to him, which is in no way a good thing. “Thanks,” I whisper, my voice shaky. For a moment, I forget that the kiss was supposed to be a show, a ruse. For a brief, fleeting second, I wonder if maybe it meant more than that. No, I don’t wonder… I hope.