16. Emma
16
EMMA
The warm sun burns through my sundress and into my back.
I'm standing in the garden, watering the flowers. The rhythmic sound of water hitting the soil is usually soothing, but today, it's doing little to calm my restless mind.
I’m babysitting Ethan again today, along with two of his friends. I look up to check on them. Ethan is a whirlwind of energy in a green t-shirt, chasing a scruffy terrier named Lucky around the yard, his friends trailing behind them.
Ethan nearly collides with a rose bush in his enthusiasm, and I gasp.
“Easy there, guys!” I call out loudly over their laughter. “Remember, Lucky's not used to a whole pack chasing him around in such a small space.”
The laughter dies down momentarily, replaced by a chorus of “Yes, Aunt Emma!” Ethan adds a wave back at me to tell me he’s okay and jumps up again, not missing a beat in his game. They're off again, their youthful energy infectious.
I shake my head and chuckle to myself. I return my attention to the flowers. The hydrangeas, thirsty from the recent heatwave, seem to be drinking up the water like it's going out of style.
As I water the plants, my thoughts turn elsewhere. It’s been three days since I called Liam, and he hasn’t reached out since. The silence is gnawing at me, making me second-guess everything.
Suddenly, the gentle patter of the stream exiting the watering can turns into a forceful gush. My hand slips on the handle, and a torrent of water slams into the delicate lavender plant beside the hydrangeas. A string of muttered curses escapes my lips as I scramble to adjust the nozzle. Too late. The damage is done. The lavender, once boasting purple blooms, now resembles a drowned rat, its fragrant leaves limp and lifeless.
I let out a frustrated cuss under my breath. “Stupid,” I mutter to myself, yanking the hose away and moving on to the next plant.
Frustration gnaws at me. It's been like this for the past two days. Simple tasks feel like insurmountable challenges because my mind constantly drifts off in a sea of unanswered questions.
It’s been hard to manage these three days of radio silence. No text, no call, nothing. Why the sudden withdrawal?
Ethan runs up to me, his face flushed from playing. “Aunt Emma, can we walk the dog down the road with Rio and Ryan?”
I pause, my hand still on the hose. “Do you have your safety wristband on?”
He nods eagerly. “Yes, I do.”
I nod absently, barely registering his enthusiasm. “Okay, just stay where I can see you.”
“Thanks!” he calls, and then he’s off, the dog bounding after him with Rio and Ryan trailing behind.
I try to focus on the task at hand, but my mind keeps drifting back to Liam. Why is he pulling away again? I’ve resisted the urge to call him for the past three days because I don’t want to seem clingy, but his silence is driving me mad. I replay our last conversation in my head, searching for any hint of what might have gone wrong.
A sharp bark from the dog snaps me out of my thoughts. I look up to see Ethan and his friends coming back from their walk. Ethan’s face is bright and happy, a stark contrast to my own mood.
“Aunt Emma, are you okay?” he asks, his eyes full of concern.
I force a smile and nod. “I’m fine, Ethan. Just a little tired.”
He gives me a dubious look but doesn’t push it. I watch as he and his friends run off to play again, feeling a pang of guilt for letting my worries affect my mood around him.
Suddenly, I hear a car pulling up. I turn to see June arriving with Rio and Ryan’s mom. Everything passes in a blur as I accept the gratitude of the kids' mom, her words barely registering. They take the dog and drive away, leaving me standing there, feeling more alone than ever.
June grabs Ethan’s arm gently and calls out to me, “Emma, come inside.”
I nod, feeling numb, and follow her into the house. Inside, June gives me a concerned look.
“Emma, what’s going on? You’ve been out of it all day.”
I sink into a chair at the kitchen table, feeling the weight of the past few days pressing down on me. ‘I’m okay.”
“Nonsense.” June's hand lands gently on my shoulder, startling me out of my reverie. She stares at me for a moment, her brow furrowed in concern. “What's wrong, honey?” she asks softly. “You look like you could use a hug and a glass of wine.”
I force a smile, the effort making my cheeks ache. “Just a long week, that's all. Planning a wedding can be surprisingly stressful.”
She lets out a chuckle, a warm, familiar sound that eases the tension in my shoulders. “Well, how about you take things easy for a bit? I was thinking of making a new dish. Wanna help out?”
I know she means that to lift my spirits. She’s always had a knack for making a way to ease my mind, even when I don’t tell her what’s bothering me. The thought of escaping into the familiar rhythm of cooking with June is strangely appealing.
“Sure,” I agree, pushing myself out of the chair. “Just let me wash my hands.”
Moments later, I’m chopping vegetables while she stirs tomato paste in the pot over the stove. She regales me with stories about people in town and their reactions to her upcoming wedding.
“You wouldn't believe it,” June chirps, dropping the spoon to spread her arms as she shakes her head with dramatic flair. “Mrs. Hathaway actually asked if I was going to have the ceremony in a barn because, according to her, 'that's the only way to keep it authentic.’ It’s the town’s way, and it’s how my mom married my dad, apparently”
I laugh, genuinely amused by the thought. “A barn? Really? Did you tell her you're not interested in a rustic farm theme?”
“Of course! But then she offered to lend me her prized rooster for the occasion. You know, for authenticity.”
We both burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the cozy kitchen. For a moment, the weight on my chest lightens, and I’m just Emma, laughing with my sister.
June glances at me, her eyes twinkling. “You’ve been pretty quiet about Liam lately. Everything okay?”
I stiffen, forcing a smile. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just busy, I guess.”
She doesn’t push further, probably sensing my reluctance. Instead, she shifts the conversation to the new venues I’ve been scouting for the wedding.
“I found a couple of places that might be perfect,” I mumble, hoping to keep the focus off my personal life. “One is this beautiful garden with an old stone fountain in the center. The other is a little chapel by the lake. Both are stunning.”
June nods, her excitement palpable. “They sound amazing. I can’t wait to see them.”
Damon comes home as we’re setting the table, his presence filling the room with an easygoing warmth. “Something smells good,” he singsongs, doing a little dance before kissing June on the cheek and ruffling Ethan’s hair as he passes by.
We all sit down to eat, the table brimming with food and laughter. Damon jokingly asks about Liam, his tone light. “Haven’t seen Liam around much lately. He must be busy at the hospital, huh?”
Something snaps inside me, and before I can stop myself, I respond sharply, “You’re his friend, Damon. Maybe you should ask him yourself.”
An uncomfortable silence falls over the table. Damon’s eyes widen in surprise, and June looks at me with concern. I feel a rush of regret for my outburst.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, pushing my chair back. “I’m just feeling a bit testy these days.”
I leave the table and retreat to my bedroom, my emotions churning. Once inside, I close the door and lean against it, fighting back tears. How did I let Liam get into my head this much? It’s infuriating.
“Damn it, Emma,” I mutter to myself, pacing the room. I bury my face in my pillow, trying to summon sleep and hold back the tears that threaten to spill over. The pillow muffles my frustrated groans as I grapple with my tangled feelings.
The room is dark, save for the soft glow of the bedside lamp. I hear the muffled sounds of conversation from the dining room, and I feel a pang of guilt for ruining dinner. June and Damon have been nothing but supportive, and here I am, snapping at them because of my own insecurities.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I know I need to confront Liam, to understand what’s going on between us, but the thought of that conversation fills me with dread. What if he confirms my worst fears? What if he’s pulling away because he’s not as invested in this relationship as I am?
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, my mind racing. I think about the moments we’ve shared, the laughter and the kisses, the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not watching. I want to believe those moments mean something to him, that they’re not just fleeting.
But then I remember the silence, the way he’s been distancing himself. I feel a fresh wave of frustration and sadness wash over me. How did everything get so complicated?
The door creaks open, and June steps inside, her expression soft and concerned. “Emma,” she calls gently, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head, not trusting my voice. She doesn’t press me, just sits there, offering silent support. I appreciate her presence more than words can express.
After a while, she stands up. “I’m here if you need me, okay? Don’t hesitate to call out.”
I nod, watching as she leaves the room, closing the door softly behind her. I take another deep breath and close my eyes, hoping sleep will come soon and offer a temporary escape from my swirling thoughts.
As I lie there in the dark, I resolve to find a way to talk to Liam. I can’t keep going like this, caught in a limbo of uncertainty. I need to know where we stand, even if the truth is painful. It’s the only way I can find some peace of mind.
With that thought, I finally drift off to sleep, my thoughts filled with images of Liam and the unresolved questions that haunt me.