Chapter Twenty Four
Breaking Through the Walls
Emma
T he sound of laughter and music drifts through the open windows of the reception hall as I step inside, leaving Ethan behind in the garden. My legs feel shaky, like they might give out at any second, but I force myself to keep moving. My chest feels tight, each breath a battle as I plaster on a smile, hoping no one will notice the turmoil raging inside me.
Sarah spots me near the edge of the dance floor, her brows knitting together as she steps away from a small group of guests. “Emma, are you okay? You look—”
“I’m fine,” I cut her off, my voice sharper than I meant it to be. I soften my tone with a weak smile. “Sorry, I’m just a little overwhelmed. Weddings, you know?”
Her eyes narrow slightly, like she doesn’t quite believe me, but she doesn’t push. Instead, she loops her arm through mine, steering me toward a quiet corner near the bar. “Let’s get you some water,” she says, her tone gentle but firm.
I nod, letting her guide me as I struggle to keep my composure. The weight of what just happened with Ethan feels like it’s crushing me, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold it together.
Sarah hands me a glass of water, her expression softening as she watches me. “Emma,” she says quietly, “you don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but… you don’t have to do this alone either.”
Her words make my throat tighten, and I take a sip of water to buy myself a moment. “I’m okay,” I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “Really.”
Sarah doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t push. She stays by my side, a small comfort as the reception buzzes around us.
But no matter how hard I try to focus on the chatter, the clinking glasses, the happy couple on the dance floor, my thoughts keep drifting back to Ethan. To the raw, unfiltered emotion in his voice when he told me he loved me.
Do you have any idea how much I fucking love you?
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the memory away. I can’t let myself dwell on it—not now, not when I’ve already made my choice.
“Emma?” Sarah’s voice pulls me back to the present, and I realize I’ve been gripping my glass so tightly my knuckles are white.
I force a smile. “Sorry, just… thinking about how fast everything’s happening. It’s a lot to take in.”
She studies me for a moment, her gaze sharp but kind. “If you say so,” she says finally, her tone laced with doubt.
Before I can respond, Sierra’s voice cuts through the room, calling everyone’s attention for the first dance. Sarah gives me a small smile before heading back toward the crowd, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I watch as Sierra and Jace take the floor, their smiles radiant as they move in perfect harmony. The love in her eyes is palpable, filling the room like a tangible force. It’s beautiful, and it’s heartbreaking, because all I can think about is what I’ve just walked away from.
But then my gaze shifts to Jace, and something doesn’t sit right. To anyone else, he might look just as captivated as Sierra, his smile wide and his movements fluid. But I know Jace. I’ve known him for years, and this doesn’t feel like him. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and there’s a stiffness in his posture, a weight in his expression that most people wouldn’t notice.
I glance at Sarah, seated quietly at the edge of the room, her hands folded tightly in her lap. She’s watching them too, but her eyes look… resigned. Like she’s seeing something no one else does, something she’s already made peace with.
The thought makes my chest tighten. There’s something going on here, something I don’t fully understand, but it’s enough to add to the ache in my heart. Because even in the middle of this picture-perfect moment, I can’t shake the feeling that everything isn’t as it seems.
The music swells, applause rippling through the room as Jace and Sierra spin gracefully across the floor. But instead of joining in the celebration, I feel like an outsider looking in, weighed down by my emotions. My chest feels constricted, my breath shallow, and the noise around me grows muffled, like I’m under water.
The lump in my throat grows, and I slip out through the side door, needing air more than anything. The cool night breeze hits my skin, and I exhale shakily, trying to steady myself.
My phone buzzes in my clutch, and I pull it out with trembling hands. A text from Ethan lights up the screen.
Ethan : I’m not giving up on us, Emma. Whatever’s going on, we can fix it. Please, just talk to me.
The tears I’ve been holding back all evening finally spill over, blurring the words on the screen. My thumb hovers over the keyboard, the urge to respond overwhelming. But what do I say? That I’m terrified of losing myself again? That if he walks away, I won’t recover this time?
I lock the phone without replying, stuffing it back into my clutch as a sob escapes my lips.
The sound startles me, but I don’t move to cover it. Out here, in the quiet of the night, I let myself feel everything I’ve been trying to suppress—the fear, the pain, the love I’m too afraid to admit I still feel.
The door creaks open behind me, and I stiffen, wiping at my cheeks as footsteps approach.
“Emma?” Sarah’s voice is soft, hesitant.
I turn to face her, forcing a smile that feels brittle. “Hey. Needed a breather.”
She studies me for a moment, her gaze sharp but kind. “You can lie to everyone else in there, but not to me,” she says gently.
Her words unravel something in me, and the tears I’ve been holding back all night spill over. Sarah steps forward, wrapping her arms around me as I bury my face in her shoulder, the sobs wracking my body.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper when I finally find my voice.
Sarah pulls back, her hands settling on my shoulders. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now,” she says softly. “But whatever this is, you don’t have to run from it. ”
I shake my head, fresh tears sliding down my cheeks. “It’s not that simple.”
“Maybe not,” she admits. “But neither is giving up on something that means everything to you.”
Her words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable. For the first time all night, I feel a flicker of something other than fear—something more like hope.
But hope doesn’t change the fear. I take a shaky breath and step back, the cool night air sharp against my damp skin. Wrapping my arms around myself, I try to hold everything together.
“He doesn’t want to be with me,” I murmur, my voice barely audible. “What if I’m holding him back? What if I’m the reason he can’t have the life he deserves?”
Sarah tilts her head, her expression softening. “What makes you think that?”
I hesitate, twisting the strap of my clutch as the words tumble out before I can stop them. “I overheard him on the phone last night.”
Her brows knit together. “What did you hear?”
“He was talking to his agent, I think,” I say, the memory making my throat tighten. “He said he needed to get out of here as soon as the wedding was over. That he’d be back in the city by Monday.” My voice wavers, the hurt bubbling to the surface. “ It sounded like… like this was just temporary for him. Like I’m temporary.”
Sarah’s eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t interrupt. She waits, letting me get it all out.
“I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped,” I admit, my hands trembling. “But I couldn’t stop myself. And now I can’t stop thinking about it. What if this is just a fling for him? What if he’s already planning to leave, and I’m setting myself up to get crushed again?”
“Did he say anything about you?” Sarah asks carefully. “Did he say this was temporary or that he was leaving you behind?”
“No,” I admit, tears pricking at my eyes. “But why else would he say he needs to get out of here? Why else would he sound so… done with it all?”
Sarah exhales, her gaze steady but kind. “Emma, you don’t know the full context of that conversation. You’re jumping to conclusions based on half of what you heard.”
I swallow hard, Sarah’s words striking something raw in me. She was there in college when Ethan overheard me talking about regret, twisting my words in his head into something they weren’t. It took months for us to come back from that misunderstanding, and even now, the memory stings. I remember the look on his face when he thought I regretted being with him.
Sarah’s gaze softens, as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “You remember how things went back then,” she says gently. “He didn’t have the full story, and it hurt both of you. But you figured it out because you talked to him. Don’t let history repeat itself, Em.”
“What else am I supposed to think?” I shoot back, frustration mixing with my fear. “He’s leaving. That’s all that matters.”
Sarah shakes her head, her tone firm yet patient. “No, it’s not. You’re scared, and I get that. But this isn’t like college, Emma. Back then, he didn’t have all the information, and it hurt you both. Don’t make the same mistake now by assuming the worst. Talk to him. Give him the chance to explain.”
Could I really be doing it again—jumping to conclusions without giving Ethan the chance to clarify? But the fear of being wrong, of him confirming my worst suspicions, grips me just as tightly.
“And what if I’m not wrong?” I whisper, my voice trembling. “What if I confront him, and he confirms everything I’m afraid of?”
Sarah steps closer, her voice softening. “Then at least you’ll know. But pushing him away without giving him a chance to explain? That’s not fair—to him or to you.”
I shake my head, my tears falling faster. “You don’t get it, Sarah. If he leaves, I don’t think I can survive it again. It would break me for good this time.”
Sarah reaches for my hands, holding them tightly. “I get it, Emma. I do. But you can’t live your life running from what might hurt you. If Ethan loves you—and I really believe he does—he deserves the chance to prove it. And you deserve the chance to see if it can work.”
Her words start to chip away at the wall I’ve built around my heart. But the fear stays, gripping me tightly and refusing to let go.
“What if I’m the reason he’s unhappy?” I whisper. “What if I was right to let him go back then?”
Sarah shakes her head. “You’re not holding him back. And if you were, don’t you think he’d tell you? Ethan doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would stay quiet about that.”
“He deserves more than someone who’s scared all the time,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Someone who can give him everything without holding back.”
“And you think you’re not that person?” Sarah asks, disbelief evident her gentle tone. “Emma, he loves you. You. Not some perfect version of you. He’s not asking for perfect; he’s asking for you.”
She says it with such conviction that, for a moment, I almost believe her.But the doubt doesn’t go away—it’s still there, stubborn and persistent.
“Talk to him,” Sarah says. “Don’t make decisions for him. Let him decide what he wants. ”
I nod slowly, even though the thought of confronting Ethan terrifies me. Sarah squeezes my hands one last time before stepping back.
“You’ll figure it out,” she says with a small, encouraging smile. “You’re stronger than you think.”
With that, she heads back inside, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and the faintest flicker of hope.
……………………………………………………………………..
My phone rings and I’m so out of it I just answer without looking to see who it is.
“Hello?”
“Emma?” The voice on the other end is hesitant, almost apologetic. It takes me a second to recognize it.
“Ethan?” My heart skips a beat, my grip tightening on the phone.
“I just… I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he says softly. “You left the reception so suddenly, and I… I’m worried about you.”
His concern twists something in my chest, and I close my eyes, willing myself not to cry again. “I’m fine,” I lie, my voice steadier than I expected.
There’s a long pause, the silence between us thick with everything neither of us is saying. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter, almost pleading. “ Emma, please. Just talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the words catch in my throat. How do I tell him what I overheard? How do I tell him that I’m terrified he’s leaving again?
Instead, I say the only thing I can manage. “I can’t do this right now, Ethan. I’m sorry.”
The silence on the other end stretches, and I can almost feel his frustration through the line. But when he speaks, his tone is calm, though there’s a quiet determination in it. “I’m not giving up, Emma. Not on you or us. You’re worth fighting for, even if you don’t believe it yet.”
Tears spill down my cheeks, and I end the call before I lose the last bit of composure I have left. His words echo in my mind, both comforting and terrifying. Because for all the love I feel for him, I still don’t know if I can let myself believe that we can make this work.
I slip my phone back into my clutch and turn toward the path leading farther into the garden, the night stretching endlessly ahead.