Chapter 7 Emma
EMMA
The stack of firewood next to the hearth is neatly arranged.
Alex stacked it that way, annoyingly perfect.
The man has always been infuriatingly good with his hands and even better at worming his way into places he doesn’t belong.
Right now is a perfect example as I can’t seem to get him out of my head.
I shift, pulling my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on top of them. My legs are dusted with ash and my knuckles are still pink from brushing against rough bark and stone. Under all the crackling firelight and creeping exhaustion, there’s a feeling I don’t want to admit out loud.
I’ve missed him.
I hate that I’ve missed him
His eyes looked into mine as if saying, “I know you, Emiliana. Better than you want me to. Better than anyone else. You can pretend all you want but I still see you.”
Jabbing at the fire with the metal poker, I watch the embers scatter like tiny sparks of blazing stars.
“You came back to survive, not to reopen old wounds,” I remind myself.
And yet, here I am, analyzing the way Alex’s hazel eyes burned into mine, and the way his voice got all low and rough when he said he had to leave before he did something he’d regret.
I do not care what he meant by that.
I don’t.
I really, really don’t.
A sharp knock on the door interrupts my downward spiral. I frown, glancing at the time.
Is he back again?
Another knock, this time more insistent. I stalk to the door and pull it open. A gust of cold air rushes in, followed immediately by a blur of blonde hair and a very familiar presence.
“Oh my God, finally,” Liv huffs, stepping inside like she owns the place. “Do you know how long I’ve been knocking? I almost froze to death out there.”
I blink at her. “It’s been like ten seconds.”
“Exactly.”
Liv’s smile is wide—the kind that crinkles the corners of her ocean blue eyes and displays her perfect, blinding-white teeth like a trophy.
Her blonde hair is twisted up into an effortlessly messy bun, unlike the mediocre one I’m rocking, that would take me two hours and a YouTube tutorial to replicate.
She’s wrapped in a magenta-colored puffer jacket, a rainbow striped scarf draped around her neck, skinny jeans and the same worn leather boots she’s had since high school.
In her hand is a white paper bag stamped with a logo for a bakery I don’t recognize.
The rich, buttery smell curling from it nearly knocks me back.
“I brought you an offering,” Liv says proudly, lifting the bag like she’s a little kid showing off their latest drawing. “Only the best chocolate croissants on this side of the Atlantic. Fresh out the oven.”
Olivia “Liv” Gonzalez and I have known each other since we were toddlers.
Our moms were best friends before we were born.
When I moved to Manhattan, Liv stayed. Her dad had recently skipped town and her mom couldn’t hold it together by herself.
Liv had no choice but to step up and help take care of her little brother, Noah.
She was still a kid herself, but she knew that she would do whatever it took to keep Noah from being affected by her parents’ inability to provide.
She gave up dreams of college and every ounce of spare time she had in order to pick up shifts at a diner in town, bringing home dinner for Noah every night so he would have something to eat.
We always planned to leave Windhaven together one day.
I was going to paint and she was going to photograph all around the world.
We were going to be the storm that broke out of this town.
But even with her parents becoming unreliable, she didn’t flinch.
She stayed rooted and steady in a way I didn’t know how to back then.
I’d always admired her for it. She raised Noah like he was her own, while also taking care of her mom like no child should ever have to.
Liv somehow still managed to carve out a life here that mattered. She didn’t let her struggles and less-than-ideal circumstances dim her sunshine. She did it all with a smile on her face, whether or not it was genuine.
Even though we didn’t end up in the same city, she never left my side.
Liv called every week, without fail. Even when I got busy, flaked, or just forgot to answer, she never stopped calling.
She even mailed handwritten letters when I got too overwhelmed to text or call—real letters, with loops of her messy handwriting that always ended with “Love you more, pendeja”.
She sent photos of Noah during his baseball season, her bakery runs, her small, but beautiful life in Windhaven.
When my career took off and I felt like I was drifting out of reach, she yanked me back down to Earth with snarky voicemails and exactly zero patience for any of my excuses.
She never scared easily and stayed when staying was the hardest thing to do.
She is my sister. Not by blood, but in all the ways that are significant.
“You know showing up with pastries is emotional blackmail, right?”
She breezes past me into the house. “Call it whatever you want.”
I grab the bag out of her hand. “But I know what these are without even looking at them and I love you.”
“I know.” She shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Wow. This place is… haunted.”
“It’s not haunted,” I say, even though I kind of agree. “It just needs some… work.”
“Yeah, like an exorcism,” she adds, glancing around, slack-jawed in disbelief at the current state of things.
I roll my eyes and take a chocolate croissant out of the bag. Biting into it, I let out a dramatic moan. “Oh my God. This is actually life-changing. So much better than the ones in the city.”
Liv smirks. “Told you. The new bakery is phenomenal. I already made besties with the owner so she always hooks me up. You have to come with me tomorrow.”
I nod through another bite, eyes closing in pure bliss. “Done. I’ll marry her if she keeps making these.”
Liv flops onto the couch, stretching her legs out as dust flies all around her. The sight reminds me to vacuum and wipe down every surface of this place as soon as possible.
“So, what’s the deal with Alex?” she asks nonchalantly.
I almost choke. “What?”
She gives me a knowing look. “I saw him driving away as I was pulling up.”
“Damn it,” I mumble under my breath.
“It’s not like anyone comes to this side of the property for fun.” She raises an eyebrow. “So what was he doing here?”
“Bringing me firewood.”
Her eyes narrow in suspicion, knowing there has to be more to the story. “Why?”
I shrug like it’s no big deal and definitely not something that’s been messing with my head since the moment he left. “There was none when I got here last night. Leo must’ve sent him over with some logs this morning.”
Liv studies me for a second, then grins.
“Huh. So, let me get this straight. He shows up, mostly likely uninvited, because let’s be real, Leo didn’t tell him shit.
Brings you firewood. Clearly started it for you, because I know for damn sure you don’t know how to do it yourself.
And then stormed off dramatically. And you’re gonna sit here and pretend that’s normal? ”
“How do you know it was ‘dramatic?’”
“Well by the look on his face, I wouldn’t have assumed things went smoothly.” My face tells her everything she needs to know because she begins to cackle. “Oh, honey. You are in so much trouble.”
I huff, dropping onto the couch next to her. I don’t bother to argue because I already know I am.
“I hate you.”
“That’s fair,” she says, stealing a bite of my croissant.
I watch her for a second, grateful that she’s here and that I have someone besides my brothers that I know I can count on. She gives me a mischievous look and I have a feeling that I know what she’s going to say next.
“Do not,” I warn.
Liv smirks. “Oh, I’m definitely going to.” She pauses, “Tell me everything.”
I hesitate. “We argued. Like always.”
“Figures.” She blinks, waiting for more details.
I gesture wildly. “I completely forgot yesterday was Friday, so of course thirty minutes after being back in Windhaven, he shows up to the house. Then offers to drive me here after dinner. We argue in the truck. He shows up again this morning with wood and starts the fire. It’s six in the morning.
You know I’m not a morning person so I was already in a mood.
The next thing I know, we’re standing way too close and—”
Liv’s eyes sparkle with excitement. She thrives on other people’s drama. “Way too close?”
I shoot her a look. “That’s not the point.”
She hums, clearly unconvinced. “So you guys argued,” she says, making air quotes, “and then he left?”
I shift uncomfortably. “Yeah. He, um… stormed out.”
She tilts her head, continuing her attempt to pry information out of me. “What were you arguing about?”
I open my mouth, then shut it, as I think back to the way his eyes were transfixed on my lips as I was talking, most likely not paying attention to anything I was actually saying. I shake away the thought. “I don’t remember.”
Liv laughs. “Oh my God, Em! You’re so full of shit!”
I grab a pillow and smack her with it. “Shut up.”
She cackles, dodging my next swing. “I knew this would happen. You and Alex have so much unresolved tension that you both don’t know what to do with it.”
“I do know what to do with it,” I say firmly. “Ignore it. Forever.”
Liv rolls her eyes. “Right. That’s already working so well for you. Standing too close to each other,” she mocks.
I glare at her, but the grin on her face is permanent as she finishes off a croissant like she’s innocent and hasn’t obliterated my entire emotional state.
“You know, on a serious note,” Liv continues, wiping the crumbs around her mouth with the back of her hand, “what you guys had was real, Em. You may have been younger but the love was there. And I don’t think feelings like that ever go away.”
I frown, looking away. “It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago.”
“Maybe.” She shrugs one shoulder.
I shake my head, not knowing if she’s wrong, but also not wanting to accept the fact that she might be right. “Anyway, let’s not waste good croissants talking about Alex Cruz. Tell me more about this bakery. You said the owner is great?”
Liv lets me change the subject, but the teasing smirk still doesn’t leave her face.
“Yeah, her name is Sophia. She’s new in town.
The bakery opened a few months ago. Everything she makes is to die for, as you can probably already tell.
I’m surprised none of your brothers have mentioned it.
I see Cam there multiple times a week before he heads to the restaurant. ”
I nod, still trying and failing to push thoughts of Alex to the back of my mind. “I haven’t heard anything about it until now. But as long as I can have some more of these, I will be there daily.” I mumble, mouth full as I lift up the last bite of croissant in my fingers.
We finish eating and Liv keeps me laughing with stories about her latest adventures, how Noah is doing in college, and everything else I’ve missed out on. For a little while, I manage to forget about my failing heart and Alex, and just enjoy being with her again like old times.