Chapter 37 The Secret Love
THE SECRET LOVE
QUINTON
The cabin is somber. It’s no longer a place of peace. For any of us. She won’t even look at me. She can’t. I never thought myself a liar but I am. The omission of truth makes me just as guilty.
Emery is shaken, completely in shock. But it’s Damon I’m more concerned about. He hasn’t moved from the couch in hours. He’s barely blinked. Refused to drink, to eat. He’s frozen. Catatonic. I’m tempted to bring him to the hospital. He needs help. More help than either of us can offer.
“Dr. Marquis?”
I glance toward the front door of the cabin as Agent Ube steps through the threshold. His gaze sweeps the crime scene that the local PD has taped off. He’s careful to avoid the markers as he approaches Emery and me.
“You said to trust you, Agent. You said I didn't have to worry about your team. Now look what happened." The anger in my voice reverberates through the cabin. Flashes of Simone's lifeless body invade my thoughts, turning my gut inside out. "She found us, and you failed us."
Agent Ube furrows his brows, confused. "My team?" he asks. "What are you talking about?"
I pull out my phone and show him the text message exchange between the two of us. "You asked us to send your team here, Agent. You asked for our location."
Agent Ube blinks, his expression shifting from confusion to realization. Another FBI agent steps into the cabin, a young woman holding a computer.
"Sir," she says. "We found an abandoned car a few miles down the road. Lots of tech. Voice scrambler, tracker." She squints at the computer screen. "It looks like Ms. Laurent duplicated your phone."
My face pales. "She did what?"
The young agent addresses me, her voice tense. "I can't say for certain without running more tests, but it looks like she created a ghost number, used a voice modifier, and—"
I hold my hand up, cutting her off. "So we were talking with Simone the whole time?" My jaw clenches, voice rising as my hands shake. "We gave Simone our coordinates?!"
Agent Ube offers me a solemn apology. "We will find out how she managed to bypass our firewall, Dr. Marquis. I'm very sorry that—"
“Where’s Toni?” I ask through gritted teeth. “Have you tracked her down?”
Agent Ube shakes his head. “Our team hasn’t been able to locate her. I can guarantee you that she’s not in the States.”
“Guarantee me?” I ask, incredulous. “Apologies, Agent, but your word means very little to me right now.”
Emery shifts uncomfortably beside me, her voice meek and low. “Is it safe to go back to New York?”
I glance at her. “You want to go home?”
She shudders slightly. “I don’t want to stay here.”
Agent Ube looks over my shoulder to Damon. “Is Mr. Cavanaugh okay?”
No.
“He’s fine,” I reply, stiffening. “It’s been a long night as you can imagine.”
“My agents have a few more questions to ask you, but then you’re free to return home,” he says. “I can have a couple of my men drive you to the nearest airport.”
I nod and he disappears toward the kitchen, the medical examiner following him.
“I should go pack,” Emery mumbles, listlessly standing up.
“I’ll help you,” I say, following her to the staircase.
She stops, muscles tensing. “I don’t need help.”
Swallowing, I place a hand on her shoulder, hoping my touch will break through her shields. “Please look at me, Emery.”
“I can’t,” she whimpers, shaking her head. “You… You knew. This whole time, you—”
“I fell in love with you long before I knew you had Alison’s heart,” I whisper, voice broken and hoarse. “I only found out when you were in the hospital and you realized that—”
“I don’t believe you,” she mutters, her back turned to me. “You knew… You knew and that’s why you chased me, that’s why you wanted me. Because a part of her is still inside me. You don’t love me, Quinton. It’s her. You were chasing her ghost. Not me.”
“That's not true, Emery,” I rasp, unbearable pain festering inside me. “I love you. You. Other than her heart, you are nothing like Alison.”
Slowly, she turns around, her eyes bloodshot and glossy. “I never believed in fate before,” she whispers, “but how can I deny it now? I have her heart, and that heart drew both of you in. You were unfinished business to her, I’m realizing. And that’s why—”
“That’s nonsense,” I state, reaching up and cupping her damp cheek. “Alison is dead, Emery. She’s gone. An organ doesn’t have magical powers. Her heart is keeping you alive, yes, but it’s your heart we fell in love with. Not hers. Please, darling, don’t say such terrible things.”
“Just because something is terrible,” she says, “doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
I exhale a heavy breath, my heart aching for her, with her. And him. “Emery, we can get through this together. I know we can. We’re stronger than this.”
“I don’t feel very strong right now, Quin.
” Emery pulls away from my touch, her features dreary and hurt.
“I need time. Time to process everything. Time to figure this out.” She swallows, gaze flitting toward the living room.
“You should try and talk to him. He doesn’t… He can’t even look at me right now.”
“I know the feeling,” I whisper, dropping my head in defeat.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Quin,” she says quietly. “I… I still love you. I love both of you so much but this? Is love enough to overcome something so incredibly fucked up?”
“Yes.” I snap my head up, my gaze unwavering in its resolve. “We can overcome anything.”
She tilts her head, a weak smile on her face. “Then go talk to Damon. He needs you right now. More than I need you.”
Reluctantly, I nod and head to the living room where Damon remains in his catatonic state. I kneel in front of him, placing a hand on his knee. He doesn’t acknowledge my presence, continuing to stare off into the distance.
“We’re going back to New York,” I say gently. “We’ll get a lift to the airport in an hour or so.”
Damon doesn’t reply, simply keeps his vacant gaze fixed ahead.
“I know you’re in pain, Damon. I know it hurts. But it was an accident. You didn’t mean to…” I swallow, my gut twisting. “The light barely turned red. You… It was a second, Damon. You were only a second…”
Damon's jaw clenches. "A second is enough to change everything.”
“Damon…”
He curls his hands into fists. “I was drunk and speeding. I should be in jail. I should—"
“Perhaps, but you're not,” I say, cutting through his self-condemnation. “I know what happened is tragic and it could have been avoided, but we can't change the past, Damon. We can't go back in time.”
Damon glares at me, but there's only sorrow in his eyes.
"You, my father, your father... you all knew.
You all knew I killed someone. And not just anyone.
Alison. I... I understand my father, why he tried to hide such a heinous crime, but you?
You loved her, Quinton. I took away the life of someone we both loved.
Why are you trying to console me? Help me? "
“Because, Damon.” I swallow. “Because whether or not I’d admit it to myself, you are someone I care deeply about.
” I shift uncomfortably. “We have known each other for decades, Damon. We had plenty of years together that were untainted by mistakes and poor decisions. One cannot disregard such memories.”
His jaw clenches. “I have been so horrible toward you. I-I blamed you…for everything, Quinton. I hated you with every fucking fiber of my being. And you… And you just took it.” His eyes well up with tears. “Why?”
“Because I knew you would blame yourself,” I say softly.
“Because after that happened to your family… You’d…
You’d lose yourself in the guilt. And you did for a time.
And that was even without this knowledge.
” I reach for his hand, gripping it, hoping he hears the honesty in my words.
“I’d rather have you hate me, Damon, than hate yourself.
I know you, and I know you’re much more sensitive than I am.
You won’t admit it but you are.” I glance toward the staircase.
“Emery needs us right now, Damon. We promised we’d be there for her.
She… She thinks we love her only because of her heart.
Alison’s heart. She thinks it was the cruel hand of fate that brought us all together. ”
“Maybe it was,” Damon whispers, tilting his chin to the floor. “Maybe she’s right. The chances of—”
“Regardless of chance and fate, Damon, we cannot let Emery believe her presence in our lives is an act of God or the universe,” I state.
“I admit, I used to think that I’d been given another chance, another opportunity to weave a different path, but Emery is not Alison.
There is no part of her that isn’t her own.
You know this too. Emery is unique. She’s not a replica or a consolation prize.
She’s someone that was made for us. So maybe, in that sense, it was fate.
But not in the awful way you are both implying. ”
Damon glances up at me. “You really do love her, don’t you?”
“I do,” I say, “More than I’ve ever loved any creature on God’s green earth. She fills me with so much joy, so much passion. It’s a feeling I have never experienced. Ever.”
Damon stares at me, his dark eyes swimming in mine. “I haven’t either.”
“Exactly, so we should be with her right now. She needs us to be with her,” I sigh, glancing heavenward. “She said she needs space but I—”
“I used to say that too.” Damon’s gaze flicks at me, so vulnerable I hardly believe it’s his eyes.
“When I was at my lowest, I pushed everyone away. It was easier to suffer in solitude.” He stands up.
“But she’s suffering, nonetheless.” With a heavy sigh, he turns around. “Let’s go suffer together.”
We head upstairs, Damon leading the way toward the bedroom. Emery sits on the foot of the bed, an empty suitcase open on the floor. She stares into nothingness, lost in the turmoil of her dangerous thoughts.
"I was going to pack," she mutters, unable to look at either of us. "But then I realized nothing in the cabin is mine. It was here when we arrived. There's... There's nothing here that's mine." Her eyes well up with tears, her bottom lip quivering. "I have nothing."
Damon and I exchange a pained look. She's not just talking about clothes or belongings.
I take a few tentative steps forward, closing the gap between us, and then kneel in front of her. Cupping her hands in my own, I will her to look at me. A second passes and then another. But I break through. I find her beautiful green eyes.
"You have us, darling," I say, stroking her skin with the pad of my thumb. "You will always have us."
A tear rolls down her cheek. "How? How can any of us get past this? We all…" She glances up at Damon. "We've all kept such harmful secrets. Love... Love doesn't tolerate lies."
Damon swallows, and he takes a moment before mustering the courage to step closer to us, his tone faltering and shaky as he says, "Some lies are forged through love. You." He looks at me. "Quin..." He swallows. "We all hid things for the sake of love."
“But it’s over now, Emery,” I say, conviction in my tone. “There is nothing left unsealed.”
Emery's gaze shifts between us, searching for something that might make sense of the chaos.
Damon steps closer once again and reaches out, placing a hand on Emery's shoulder. He squeezes. A subtle but powerful touch. "We’ll do better, Emery. From this moment on, we’ll do better.”
She looks at us, so vulnerable, so sad and beautiful, and then her attention shifts to me. "Are you okay?”
She doesn’t need to elaborate. I know exactly what she’s asking me. I’ve spent my life trying to heal people. My goal was always to extend a person’s life, never take it. I should feel conflicted. But I don’t.
“She was going to kill you,” I say. “I’m comfortable with my decision.”
Emery swallows. “The things we do for love.”
“And I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” I whisper. “A thousand times over.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good thing,” she mutters, pulling away from me. “I… I want to go home.” Her shoulders slump over, chin tilted to her chest as she cries. “I just want to go home.”
That hurts my heart to hear. Because for me, at this very moment, home is right here.
With her.
And him.