9. Emily
9
EMILY
D ays slip by in a blur, each one melding into the next, but the weight of my decisions only grows heavier. Every morning, I wake up in my cramped apartment, staring at the ceiling as the reality of my situation settles in.
I can’t seem to shake the memory of that night with Lucas, the way he made me feel things I’d buried so deep I’d forgotten they existed. But it’s not just the memory that lingers—it’s the guilt.
I search for jobs, Mia covering for me with her dwindling savings, but my mind is often on Lucas. I couldn’t stay. Not after the way I felt lying in bed next to him. I wanted him so badly, it felt like love, but what have I got to offer him?
Nothing.
I walk home from another failed interview, a potent mix of emotions gnawing at me, a constant reminder that I’ve tangled myself in a world I don’t belong in.
Lucas represents everything I’ve always feared—a world of power, wealth, and moral ambiguity that’s utterly alien to my own.
I’ve always prided myself on staying away from trouble, on keeping my life simple and straightforward, even if it meant struggling to make ends meet. But Lucas… he’s different. He’s a complication I never expected, and now, I’m caught in a web I’m not sure I can untangle myself from.
The streets of the Bronx reflect my mood—gritty, worn down, and unforgiving. The buildings around me are covered in graffiti, their once-vibrant colors faded into dull shades of gray and brown.
Trash litters the sidewalks, the smell of gasoline and stale piss hanging in the air. It’s a far cry from the opulence of Lucas’s penthouse, a world so far removed from mine that it feels like a different planet.
As I walk through the neighborhood, I can’t help but feel the stark contrast between my life and his. Here, the people are hardened by life’s struggles, their faces lined with worry and fatigue.
The kids play in the streets with broken toys, their laughter tinged with a resilience born from necessity. This is my world, the one I’ve always known, and yet, for the first time, it feels small and suffocating.
I try to push thoughts of Lucas out of my mind, but it’s impossible. The guilt isn’t just about the one-night stand; it’s about the way his world has started to bleed into mine.
I’ve heard about the fire that burned down Vince’s house, Greg’s car getting smashed up the day he bought it. Then he got the shit kicked out of him last week in a random attack. Vince got mugged the same day, teeth smashed in by the butt of a pistol.
The news unsettles me, a cold shiver running down my spine. I can’t shake the feeling that Lucas might have had something to do with it, that somehow, my association with him is dragging me deeper into the darkness of his world.
I tell myself it’s just paranoia, that I’m imagining connections where there are none. But the unease lingers, a constant companion as I navigate these streets that used to feel like home.
I’m still broke, still jobless, and now I’m emotionally tangled with a man who feels both thrilling and terrifying. It’s a mess, one I’m not sure I know how to fix.
The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the buildings, and the streets are beginning to empty out. I pull my jacket tighter around me, trying to ward off the chill that has nothing to do with the weather.
I need to get my life back on track, to find a job, to stop thinking about Lucas and the chaos he’s brought into my life. But even as I make that resolution, I know it’s easier said than done.
As I reach my apartment building, I pause, looking up at the faded brick facade, the windows dark except for the faint glow of a few scattered lights. This is my reality, and yet, for the first time, it feels like a cage.
I can’t stop thinking about the world Lucas inhabits—a world of luxury and power, but also one of danger and deceit. A world that I’ve barely glimpsed but that already feels like it’s pulling me in.
I take a deep breath and force myself to push those thoughts aside. I can’t afford to get lost in fantasies or fears. I need to focus on surviving, on finding a way out of this mess I’ve found myself in.
But as I climb the stairs to my apartment, the guilt and confusion weigh heavy on my shoulders, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m already in too deep to escape.
I get inside and go to the bathroom, staring at the mirror on the wall as I wash my hands. “Any luck?” Mia shouts to me.
“Didn’t get it.”
The reflection looking back at me isn’t what I want to see—my curves are all too obvious, the soft lines of my body spilling out in ways that make me feel self-conscious.
I pull at the fabric of my shirt, trying to smooth it down over my stomach, but it only makes me feel worse. Sure, he put up with my weight for one night but sooner or later, he’d toss me aside.
Better to leave it as one perfect night.
Mia is in the kitchen, humming a tune as she stirs something on the stove. The comforting smell of spices and vegetables fills the apartment, but I can’t focus on anything except Lucas.
Mia must sense something’s wrong because she suddenly pokes her head into the bathroom, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. “Hey, you okay? You’ve been awfully quiet in there. Thought you’d fallen asleep.”
I look up at her, forcing a smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking.” I follow her out. “What’s for supper?”
She gives me a look that says she doesn’t buy it for a second. Without a word, she grabs two bowls from the kitchen and fills them with the stir-fry she’s been cooking. Then, she walks over and hands me a bowl, plopping down on the bed beside me with her own.
“Spill it,” she says, her tone gentle but firm. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
I take a deep breath, fiddling with the chopsticks in my hand. “I’m just… worried,” I admit. “About Lucas. About me.”
Mia takes a bite of her stir-fry, her eyes never leaving mine. “Worried how?”
“Did I make the right decision leaving him like that?”
“I don’t know. Did you?”
I hesitate, the words sticking in my throat, but I know I can’t keep this bottled up. Not with Mia. She’s always been the one person I can tell anything to. “What if he doesn’t like me? I mean, really like me. Long-term, you know? What if… what if he thinks I’m too fat?”
The words hang in the air, heavy and uncomfortable. I stare down at my bowl, suddenly not hungry, the familiar sting of self-doubt washing over me.
Mia’s eyes widen, and she sets her bowl aside, turning to face me fully. “Emily, you listen to me,” she says, her voice filled with a fierce protectiveness that makes me look up. “You are gorgeous. And if Lucas—if any man—doesn’t like your curves, that’s on him. Not on you.”
I feel my eyes well up with tears, the weight of her words hitting me harder than I expected. “But… what if he does think I’m fat? What if he doesn’t like what he sees?”
Mia takes my hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “Emily, you have to stop thinking that your worth is tied to your size. You are so much more than that. Your curves are beautiful—they’re part of what makes you, you. And anyone who can’t see that is an asshole, plain and simple.”
Her words are so matter-of-fact, so full of confidence, that I can’t help but smile a little. “You really think so?”
“Hell yes, I do!” Mia says, her tone firm. “Look, I get it. We live in a world where people make you feel like you have to fit into some stupid mold to be considered beautiful. But that’s bullshit. Real beauty isn’t about fitting into a size two. It’s about confidence, strength, and owning who you are. And you, Emily, have all of that in spades.”
I let out a shaky breath, feeling some of the tension in my chest begin to ease. “It’s just… hard, you know? Sometimes I look in the mirror, and all I see are flaws.”
Mia’s expression softens, and she pulls me into a hug, wrapping her arms around me in a way that feels both comforting and reassuring. “I know it’s hard,” she murmurs against my shoulder. “But you have to remember that those flaws you see? They’re what make you unique. They’re what make you beautiful.”
She pulls back slightly, looking me in the eyes. “And if Lucas can’t see that, then he’s not the guy for you. But from what you’ve told me, I don’t think that’s the case. He’d be a fool not to appreciate every inch of you.”
A small laugh escapes me, and I wipe away a tear that’s slipped down my cheek. “You always know what to say.”
“That’s because I know you,” Mia says with a grin. “And I know how amazing you are, inside and out. You’ve got curves, babe, and they’re damn sexy. So don’t you dare let anyone make you feel less than.”
I nod, feeling a warmth spread through me that has nothing to do with the stir-fry in my lap. “Thanks, Mia.”
“Anytime,” she says, leaning back against the headboard and picking up her bowl again. “Now, let’s eat before this gets cold. And remember—no more doubting yourself. You’re a catch, and anyone who’s lucky enough to be with you should know that.”