CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE Emily
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Emily
I haven’t seen Joshua since we arrived from the hike yesterday. I don’t know why that’s my first thought in the morning, but I’m not surprised anymore. The man has a weird way of creeping into my thoughts—awake or not.
To be honest, I felt something shift. I want to say it’s just me overthinking it like I usually do, but I didn’t even have to exert effort in thinking about this one at all. We spent hours being totally honest with each other, and it opened something in my chest that’s been closed for ages—the ability to feel. That night in the tent, I felt every possible feeling in the world.
I felt seen. I felt cared for. I felt happy. I felt scared. I felt new feelings I didn’t know existed. Pixar can create a whole new Inside Out movie off the new emotions I discovered that night.
I remember the way he looked at me, the way he held my hand, the way we almost—ugh. I suddenly hear a knock on my bedroom door, pulling me back to reality.
“Come in,” I grumble as I sit up.
My mother enters, with a faint smile on her face. She sits at the foot of my bed, and I look at her with my eyebrows raised. “Did you have fun at the hike?” she asks.
I nod, not really in the mood to expound on what happened. I wish she would just cut to the chase, though. It’s always like this. She would butter me up with small talks about myself, but end up asking for something.
I think back to that night in New York when she called me at 11 p.m., just as I was wrapping up a late shift. She’d started with, Have you eaten dinner? and then asked how my day was. I’d barely managed to tell her about my sad desk salad before she pivoted: By the way, I need you to send money for Lila’s prom dress. I bought it on credit, but it’s really perfect for her.
“I just want to tell you to take care back in New York,” she says. Wait. She’s not asking for something? My brows knit in confusion.
“What do you mean?” I ask, not familiar with how to navigate this kind of conversation.
“You’re just… different, lately,” she says. When I don’t reply, she adds, “You look kinder. Happier. You’re still always stiff and proper around me, but you’re loosening up in some ways. Like that time you went home drunk. It was the first time I saw you unwind like that. It’s good. I shouldn’t have been angry, to be honest.”
“You were right to be angry, it was a tough morning.” I chuckle.
She smiles in return, and continues, “I don’t know how you live when you’re far away from us, but whatever happened between the time you left and today, it made you different. The good kind.” She places a hand on my leg. “Maybe it’s the career or maybe it’s Joshua. Whatever is happening, Emily, whatever is making you like this, keep it around.”
She has no idea. She doesn’t know about the storm inside me, the one I keep tamped down with smiles and quick lies. She doesn’t know I quit my job because my boss cornered me one too many times. She doesn’t know that my ‘perfect’ relationship is just a deal I made to survive a wedding without imploding.
Her hand rests gently on my leg, grounding me. “Maybe it’s irrelevant to say this now,” she says, her voice quiet, “but I’m proud of you.”
Okay, I’m not ready for this. My throat tightens. I force myself to swallow the lump before it grows. “Thanks, Ma,” I say. She notices the slight quiver in my voice, and offers me a small smile.
“I’m sorry for not saying it more often.”
I shake my head, smiling. “Why are you being cheesy at eight in the morning?” I manage, my voice light enough to disguise the cracks.
She smiles again, softer this time. “Because you’re leaving tomorrow. And I’m going to miss you.” She exhales, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “But this time, I’m not as worried as I was before.” She puts a hand on my cheek and tucks a strand behind my ear.
I force a laugh. “You never had to worry, Ma. I’ve got it all figured out.”
“You always do, and that’s the point,” she says. “You’re amazing. But…” She shifts, her expression unreadable. “Ever since your father left us, you stood up. You became everything we needed, and I became less of a mother and more of a burden to you.”
I shake my head quickly. “No, Ma, you were never—” She cuts me off.
“I was. Still am.” She holds my hand. “It wasn’t until a recent conversation with Lila that I realized how much pressure I was putting on you. She told me that you’re always staying up late working, even when you’re supposed to be on vacation here. And I know you’re not doing that for yourself.”
I look at my fingers, suddenly feeling the need to clutch onto something. My mother continues, “I don’t know what’s going on. Just know that you can tell me. You can tell us if you’re having a hard time.”
For a moment, the temptation is overwhelming. I think about telling her everything—how I’m barely holding it together, how the cracks in my carefully constructed life are spreading faster than I can patch them. I imagine letting it all spill out, the weight of it finally shared. But then I see her face, the faint wrinkles etched around her eyes, the strands of white threading through her hair. I’m reminded of how much she’s already endured, how much she’s given.
“I’m not having a hard time, I promise,” I say, squeezing her hand gently. This lie isn’t like the others I’ve told. This one feels different. Like a promise. Like a spark of determination. Like an invitation to try harder, not just for them, but this time, for myself too.
And maybe that little spark is enough for now.
She looks back at me, her eyes searching mine again.
“Thank you,” I say quietly, the words heavier than I intended.
She nods, and her smile says she knows more than I’ve told her. She gives me a hug, and she gets up to leave. As the door clicks shut behind her, I sink back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling. The weight of our conversation lingers, pressing against the mask I’ve worn for so long. Maybe she saw through it—maybe she could tell that underneath the strength and the happiness, there’s still so much I don’t have figured out. But I won’t drag her and Lila into it.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been carrying the weight of my family’s expectations, or maybe just my perception of them. Always striving to be more, to do better, to prove that I could hold it all together no matter what. And I did. I always did. Failing was never an option. Not for me, not for us. But somehow, in the softness of her voice and the sincerity of her words, something shifted.
I’m proud of you. Those four words linger in my mind, wrapping themselves around the fragile parts of me I never let anyone see. I didn’t tell her the truth—not about the late nights, or the endless worries, or the nagging fear that I’m one wrong move away from everything falling apart.
I’ve spent so much time trying to protect her and Lila from my struggles, carrying them in silence because I didn’t want to let them down. But maybe I never gave them the chance to show me that they could carry me, too.
The acknowledgment feels like a balm, soothing something I didn’t even realize was hurting. For the first time, I don’t feel like I’m running out of time or room to breathe.
And in that moment, a quiet, tentative hope settles within me. My family doesn’t need me to be perfect. They just need me to keep going.
The Corner Bistro smells divine every single time I go inside the store. I invited my friends for breakfast, but Haley and Kate had a family thing. They’re one of those big families that celebrate every little milestone with aunts, and uncles, and cousins. Bon and Ryan already planned a breakfast date. So that leaves me. I would’ve invited Joshua, if the thought of seeing him didn’t make my stomach churn.
“Hey, Emily,” I look up to see Rob standing beside me at the counter.
“Umm, hey,” I say. I grab my coffee and pastry from Wendy, the cashier, and make my way toward one of the tables.
“Mind if I join you?” Rob asks. To be honest, I do mind. Not to mention, Freida is standing by the window, watching me intently like the scary villain that she is. But at the same time, I’m still on a high from the earlier exchange with my mom, and I want to leave this place without any baggage, so instead of being mean and snarky, I smile.
“Not at all,” I say, motioning to the seat in front of me. “Are you not gonna eat anything?” I ask.
“No, I actually just want to talk to you,” he replies. “Please, feel free to finish your breakfast.” I take a sip of my coffee and look at him with my eyebrows raised.
“So, what’s up?” I ask.
“I just…” he sighs. “I just want to apologize. For real, this time.” He smiles slightly, and suddenly, I get a glimpse of the guy I used to love. His eyes are suddenly soft, kind. For the first time since I got here. I don’t say anything, though, so he continues. “First, I’m sorry for cheating on you. It was unfair and you didn’t deserve that. I should’ve just come clean and admit that I fell in love with Denise while you were away,” he says. I have to admit, I’m oddly irritated. Irritated that he really loves her, and he didn’t bring her as a scheme to spite me, like what I did with Joshua.
“It was unfair to Denise, too, and the reason why I wasn’t able to apologize to you right away was because I tried to make it right with her. When she found out, she was furious, and she broke up with me. But,” he stammers. “But I love her, so I begged her not to. And all my attention, all my focus, was on her. I’m sorry for not thinking about what you’re feeling, Em.”
“Thanks,” I say, thinking he was done. But he goes on.
“Second, I’m sorry for treating that Ben thing so lightly,” he says. I didn’t expect him to even remember. “If you haven’t yet, you should quit that job. He’s not gonna be nicer to you. I’m sorry for not being the person you could count on.”
This time, I feel a tug in my heart. He’s being sincere. His apologies are actual apologies, and not an introduction to another petty thing to throw at me.
“Lastly,” he says with a sigh. “I’m sorry for not believing you and Joshua. At first I was jealous. I saw you for the first time and I kind of regretted letting you go. Then I saw you kissing him, the man I’m so infuriatingly insecure about,” he chuckles. “Again, I reacted rashly. Seeing you two these past days, I understand. I understand why you’re together. You fit so incredibly well, I really wish you both the best.”
He doesn’t know that none of it is real. He doesn’t know that while Josh and I are attracted to each other, it’s the only thing fueling our little ruse. I tie my hair in a bun on my head to keep it from going to my face. I don’t know what to say, so I just take a bite of my croissant.
“I’m sure there are a million other little things I’ve done that need apologizing,” Rob says. “But let me just say that I’m sorry for being such an ass to you. You deserve better, and I’m glad you found it.”
I’m speechless. At first, I don’t know how to react, but I ask, “Why now?”
He scratches the back of his head. “Denise. She told me she couldn’t be with a guy who treated another woman the way I treated you. She helped me see how badly I’d messed up. Honestly, it was a wake-up call.”
“She sounds like she’s really good for you,” I say, letting the words land with a sense of finality. “Well, I forgive you. Not because what you did was okay, but because... I’m the kindest freaking person in the world.”
As I say it, I feel unshackled. It’s true. I really do forgive him. And wow does it feel good to let go of the hatred, the hurt, the anguish, and everything in between.
Rob laughs, the tension between us dissolving a little. “Yeah, you are,” he says with a half-smile. We just sit there, in this strange kind of peace, knowing we’re finally letting go of something we’ve both been holding onto for too long.
Suddenly, the bell in the shop rings so I look up at the door, and my heart skips a beat. Joshua enters, wearing the usual black shirt and baseball cap. He scans the place, and his eyes lock onto mine. Rob notices the shift in me, and looks behind him. When Josh sees him, his brows furrow.
“I should probably go,” Rob says. “Not a fan of your boyfriend’s death stare.” He chuckles. “I’ll see you around, Emily.”
“Yeah,” I say, smiling. “Thanks.”
Seconds later, Rob is outside, and the man in front of me is replaced with a much more attractive, much more take-my-breath-away version.
“What was that about?” Josh asks with raised brows. “You okay? Was he harassing you? Do I need to follow him out?”
I chuckle. “No,” I say. “He was actually apologizing. Like, really apologizing.”
Josh nods slowly and removes his baseball cap. He brushes a hand through his hair, and gives me a soft smile. We stay there in silence. I’m aware of how much meaning there is between us right now. My mind drifts back to our hike—the warmth of him beside me in the tent, the way he looked at me under the dim light. He’s still looking at me like that now, as if he can read my mind, as if he knows there’s something there that neither of us has quite put words to.
“You ready for the flight tomorrow?” Josh says casually.
“Yeah, you?” I ask, and he nods.
This is weird. This isn’t us. Not that there’s an us to begin with, but we’re usually comfortable around each other. Fake or not, I’d like to believe we’re at least friends. So where is this painful awkwardness coming from?
Joshua shifts, still holding his cap in his hand, his fingers grazing the brim as he looks at me, and I feel a pang in my chest that I can’t quite name. There’s a wall between us now, an invisible, unspoken thing that wasn't there before. It’s like we both know something has changed, but neither of us is brave enough to be the first to admit it.
“I, uh…” he starts, breaking the silence. He clears his throat, then looks away, glancing at the menu by the counter as if they suddenly hold the answers to everything. “Thought I’d come by to make sure you were set for tomorrow.” His eyes flicker back to mine. “Anything you need help with?”
I swallow, trying to find my voice. “No, I’m... I’m good,” I say, though the truth is I’m not entirely sure what ‘good’ means right now. This entire situation—our arrangement, this fake relationship, and the way he’s looking at me as if he’s actually seeing me—it’s all starting to blur together. “Thanks, though. For, you know, checking in.”
He nods again, his eyes lingering on mine a beat too long. I wonder if he can see the effect he has on me, the way my pulse races and my palms feel a little clammy.
“Emily…” he says softly, and I can hear the uncertainty in his voice, as if he’s trying to decide whether to say the thing he’s been holding back.
“Yeah?” I whisper, barely trusting myself to speak any louder.
He lets out a breath, then shakes his head, a wry smile forming on his lips. “Nothing,” he says, almost laughing at himself. “Guess I’m just… wondering what you and Rob were talking about. I mean, you don’t really owe me an explanation, but…” His words trail off, and he looks down, almost as if embarrassed.
I smile, feeling the tension dissolve just a little. “Honestly? He was really just apologizing for, you know, everything. The past, and… well, for being a bit of an idiot.” I shrug, trying to lighten the mood, but it feels forced. “It was nice. Unexpected, but nice.”
He nods again, though something unreadable flickers across his face. “So, you’re okay, then? Nothing… unfinished there?”
It takes me a second to realize what he’s getting at, and when I do, my heart does that traitorous little flutter again. “No,” I say firmly. “Nothing unfinished. In fact, it feels good to finally have some closure.”
He lets out a breath, and for a moment, I think I see relief in his eyes, though he quickly masks it with a casual nod. “That’s good,” he says, glancing down, his fingers drumming lightly against his thigh. “I just... I don’t know. I don’t want you to be dealing with... old stuff.” He frowns, almost to himself, and then looks back at me with something close to vulnerability in his expression. “You deserve better than that.”
There’s something about the way he says it, so quiet and sincere, that makes me ache in a way I can’t explain. I take a steady breath, trying to ease the weight pressing on my chest. “Thanks, Josh. That means a lot.”
He shrugs, as if brushing it off, but I can see the faint color rise to his cheeks. For a second, everything feels like it’s hanging in the balance, as if one of us just needs to say the right thing and this entire moment will tip into something else.
“Well,” he says with a forced lightness, rubbing the back of his neck, “I just wanted to make sure you’re all set.”
I nod, trying to hide my disappointment. “Yeah. Thanks for checking in… we’ll be back in New York in no time.”
“Yeah, and all this, well…” he trails off.
“Will end, yeah. We had a good run,” I say, my stomach doing flips after flips. We’re way past parasites at this point. There’s a giant snake slithering in my insides.
He gives me one last look, then he nods, slips his cap back on, and leans back.
“I should probably go,” I say. Joshua looks startled, and he immediately sits up. “I have something I need to do.” That’s a lie, there’s nothing I have to do. But all this emotion is begging to explode, and I can’t sit here looking at him like that. I need to go somewhere to just… cry.
I don’t give him time to speak as I get up and walk through the door. The bell chimes as I leave, tears already forming in my eyes, wondering why it feels like I just lost something I never even had.