Chapter Thirty-One #2
Not without jeopardizing my family’s security.
“I’m staying just down the block,” Emily said. “For as long as you want me to. And I don’t expect you to entertain me, I just want to be here.”
I shook my head, my esophagus painfully tight. “Em.”
“I told Claire I’d probably miss the game,” Emily said quietly. “She wasn’t thrilled, but I didn’t care. I needed to be here.”
“Emily.”
Her fingers tightened around mine. “And I know this isn’t the time for any of the other stuff. I know it probably feels small right now. But it still matters, Braden. We matter.”
“Em, please.”
She paused, lifting her head off my shoulder to look at me. When she saw the devastation in my eyes, her face fell, and she shook her head instantly, again and again.
“No,” she breathed. “Braden, don’t. Don’t you dare.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“That’s bullshit. You always have a choice.”
“How am I supposed to do this right now, Em? How am I supposed to take another risk when everything that matters to me feels one bad break away from falling apart?”
“Braden…” she said softly, like she was handling something fragile. “I’m not asking you to gamble with your family. I’m not asking you to stop showing up for them.”
I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. “Maybe not intentionally, but that’s what this is. You were in that meeting. You heard Claire. Coach Palmer. You heard what happens if we keep doing this.”
She swallowed hard, tears spilling over now. “And you heard me, too. You heard me say I would figure it out with you.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“No,” she said, voice trembling. “It’s not. But that doesn’t mean this is the answer.”
She was still shaking her head, but now her eyes were the ones welling with tears.
It fucking killed me.
I wet my lips, holding tight to her hand and focusing my gaze on where our fingers tangled, wishing I could have her, wishing it wasn’t all so fucking unfair.
“I love you, Emily.”
It was as if I’d slit her neck, the way her face crumpled, the way she shook her head like it pained her to hear it.
“I do. And I know this isn’t the time to say it, and maybe I shouldn’t say it at all, but I can’t let you go without you knowing the truth.
I love you. Love who I am with you. Love that you came here knowing the risk.
You being here means everything to me,” I said roughly.
“And that’s part of the problem. Because if I let myself lean into this, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to let you go. ”
“Don’t,” she said simply. “Don’t let me go.”
“If this were just about what I want, it would be you. But my life doesn’t get to be just about what I want.”
I swallowed, hating myself before I said the words I knew I had to say next.
“I can’t match your energy, Em. I can’t take the same risk. I can’t choose you over everything right now — even though I wish with all my fucking heart that I could.”
My voice broke on the last words, even more when she pulled her hands from mine, leaving my grasp as empty as my soul.
“So, that’s it?” she asked, her eyes glossy. I saw the hardness beginning to settle over her, the defense going up, the walls rebuilding. “You just give up on us? You tell me you love me and then profess there’s no world we can be together in right on the heels of that?”
“I don’t know what else to do.”
The words shuddered out of me, and I looked up at the ceiling, swiping at my face as I tried to regain my composure. I felt so fucking helpless I wanted to float away, but I knew I couldn’t. I had to ground myself. I had to do the impossible to provide for my family.
“I’ll quit,” she said simply, shrugging. “I’ll quit the team.”
“No. Don’t do that — not for me. You love dancing. You worked your ass off to get that position and you just got yourself healthy again. Quitting isn’t an option. I don’t want that, and I know you don’t, either.”
“I don’t want to lose you!” Her chest heaved with the confession, her eyes wild. “Can’t you see that? I love you, too, and I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”
I wrapped her in my arms, pulling her to my chest as we both broke. She let me hold her only a moment before she was pushing against my chest.
“No. No, you don’t get to hold me right now. You don’t get to comfort me while you break my fucking heart.”
She stood, turning from me as her hands flew to her head. She paced three steps before coming right back at me, and the pain in her eyes did me in.
“I want to be here for you. I want to… to…”
“I know. I know, Em, I know but we… fuck, I can’t do this right now. I can’t. Ginny needs me. My parents need me. I have to get myself together and get back in time for the game. I…”
She nodded, biting her lower lip as she watched me struggle with the right words.
“We have to stop,” I croaked. “Maybe not forever. But right now, we can’t…”
“So I’m just supposed to wait?” She huffed, hands plopping against her thighs with a smack. “I’m just supposed to hold onto hope until, what? You go to another team? I get aged out of the squad? The franchise comes around by some miracle and realizes their no fraternization rule is fucking stupid?”
“I don’t expect you to wait.”
That killed all the fire in her, her eyes softening, brows furrowing. “So you’re telling me it’s over?”
No.
God, no.
It’s not over. It’ll never be over for me.
But I nodded instead, unable to look at her as I landed the final blow.
For a long moment she was silent, and then she was crying, and then she let out a muffled scream before she lowered into a deep squat right in front of me. She gave me no choice but to look at her, to face what I’d done.
“Not everything is black and white, Braden. You’ve spent your whole life putting everyone else before yourself. You’ve followed the rules, done the right thing, played it safe, and convinced yourself that sacrifice is the same thing as happiness. But it’s not.”
Her voice trembled, but she didn’t look away.
“I know you. I know how deeply you love your family, and I would never ask you to stop showing up for them. But this?” She gestured between us. “This isn’t you showing up for them. This is you abandoning yourself because it feels easier than sitting in the uncertainty.”
My heart squeezed painfully at the truth in her words.
“Your parents don’t want this for you,” she continued.
“Ginny doesn’t want this for you. And no matter how impossible this feels right now, there is a way through it.
There is light. But I can’t make you look for it.
I can’t make you choose something different if you’re too scared to believe it’s possible. ”
She stood then, grabbing her things with trembling hands.
“Your sister needs you right now,” she said more softly. “And I’m sorry if I made this harder. That was never my intention.”
Her eyes found mine again, and everything in me shattered.
“But when you love someone, you don’t just stand beside them. You tell them the truth, even when it hurts.”
She slid her jacket on, pulling her hair free before folding her arms tight across her chest.
“I’ll go. I’ll give you what you’re asking for.” She swallowed. “But only if you give me something.”
“Anything.”
Her gaze locked onto mine.
“I want you to be honest with yourself,” she said.
“Not about what you should do. Not about what everyone else needs. About what you want. And I don’t want you to bury it under all the reasons you can’t have it.
I don’t want you to dress it up as responsibility or sacrifice or duty.
I want you to look at it for what it is. ”
Her lips pressed together, a small, sad smile flickering.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. I’m not perfect. But I’ve never felt surer of who I am or where I’m going than I have with you.”
Her words eviscerated what little resolve I had left.
“The rest?” she said, taking a step back. “That’s yours to figure out. And if, when you strip everything else away, it’s me your heart wants…” Her voice wavered. “Then we’ll figure it out. No matter how impossible it feels.”
She held my gaze, steady despite the tears.
“But I won’t make you choose me,” she finished softly. “You have to decide if I’m something you’re willing to fight for.”