Chapter 37
MYLES
I’ve never seen this much sadness in Emma. She’s always been so good at hiding her pain, masking it with jokes or distractions, that I didn’t realize how deeply she was hurting. The way Emma was talking about herself breaks my heart.
My stomach turns.
I was so sure I knew her, but I think I was wrong. After she hurt me, I convinced myself she didn’t care about me. I let her push me away. I let myself hate her.
Maybe this whole time I missed how broken she really was.
I wish she’d talk to me the way she’s talking to Mallory. I want to know what went wrong with us. Not just the night Duke died, but what happened after.
We start the drive back home. Mallory is in the passenger seat and falls asleep almost right away. Emma sits in the back with her legs tucked up, and she stares out of the window.
It’s odd seeing her up close like this because this isn’t what I’m used to. Our whole lives she was the one who filled the silence, but right now the only sound is the tires on the pavement. It isn’t right.
Is she still hurting? Would it be wrong of me to ask her all of the burning questions on my mind?
I know it’s too soon, and I stay quiet.
After a little while, I stop at a gas station to fill up the car. When I go inside I can’t help but stop at the cold case and grab a chocolate fudge bar. As soon as I get back in the car, I set it on Emma’s lap like I'm waving a white flag.
“What’s this for?” she asks.
I shrug, not wanting to make it seem too serious. “It’s your favorite.”
She touches the wrapper with both hands and she looks at me for the briefest moment before her eyes fall from my gaze again. She looks at the ice cream bar, not opening it. “Why are you being nice to me?”
“I don’t like seeing you upset.”
“Oh.”
My heart beats a hundred miles per hour in my chest as I wait for her to say something more. She doesn’t.
I shift my weight and start the car. I glance at her in the rearview mirror. “You should eat it before it melts.”
It’s dark when I get home, and Mom is sitting near the door. “Where have you been?”
“I know it’s late, I'm sorry. I just went on a drive.”
“You missed dinner.”
“I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
She nods, mouth forming a hard line. “Your, uh”—her jaw slides to the side—“coach called me today. He wanted to know why you weren’t at practice.”
My eyes fall to the floor.
“What’s going on, Myles? Since when do you lie to me?” There’s hurt in her voice, and I hate it. I knew keeping secrets from her was wrong, but hearing the pain in each word is like a punch in my gut.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that, and tell me why you’re acting like this. You don’t talk to me anymore. Did I do something wrong? Because you’re never home and when you are home, you hide in your room the whole time.”
“It’s hard for me,” I whisper.
“What’s hard?”
My throat feels tight and I want to run away and hide again, but what good would that do? It would only make her feel bad and then I’d feel even worse than I do now.
“Everything changed when you got married,” I say.
“Do you not like Adam?”
“He’s not my dad.” I bite my cheek, not wanting to cry in front of her. “Everything is different now. You took down all of our family pictures, and our house smells different. We eat different food and we watch different shows.” Biting my cheek doesn’t stop the tears.
I notice her face switch from annoyance and disappointment to concern and sadness.
“I feel lost in my own home. Baseball is the only thing I have left of Dad, and then you tried to take that away too.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
My fingers grow numb at my side. “Because you’re happy now.”
But she doesn’t look like it right now. “I want us all to be happy.”
“How can I be happy when I hear you laughing and talking in the hallway”—my voice catches, cracking in midair—“and I have to remind myself it’s you and Adam, not you and Dad?”
I know it shouldn’t bother me when Dad’s been gone for so long, but seeing Adam fill my dad’s shoes ripped the wound wide open again. No one told me how it would be to see someone kiss my mom and hold her hand like my dad used to.
And no one told me how guilty I’d feel for hating it. For wishing Adam wasn’t around even though it would mean she’d be lonely.
I’m ashamed of how I feel because it’s not like I expect her to do anything. Dad is gone and Adam isn’t going anywhere. This is our life now. I know I have to accept it.
Mom stands up, stepping closer.
I’m scared to look at her and see how disappointed she is in me. I’m afraid to see her cry. I won’t forgive myself.
I push past her, trying to run to my room because the guilt is already eating away at me.
“Myles, wait.” She grabs my arm. “Let’s figure this out.”
I shake my head. “Please let me go.”
She does.