Chapter 27
Her suitcase was by the door.
That was the first thing he noticed.
Not the way she was standing.
Not the way her shoulders looked lighter but somehow more fragile at the same time.
Just the suitcase.
Zipped.
Ready.
Final.
Parker leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching her as she moved around the living room like she was ready to say goodbye to it all.
"You're really doing this," he said.
It wasn't a question.
Emily didn't look at him right away.
She adjusted the strap on her bag, then smoothed her hands over the top of her suitcase like she needed everything to be in perfect order before she could walk out.
"I have to," she said quietly.
Her voice wasn't shaking anymore.
That didn't make it better.
It made it worse.
Because it meant she had already cried it out.
Already broken.
Already decided.
Parker pushed off the counter slowly.
"No, you don't," he said. "You could stay a little longer. You don't have to make everything final today."
She shook her head.
"I do."
Now she looked at him.
And there was something in her eyes he didn't like.
"I've already called a lawyer," she added.
That hit.
Parker's brows pulled together.
"You what?"
"I started the paperwork," she said. "It's not finished yet, but... it's in motion."
He let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face.
"Emily..."
"I know," she said quickly. "I know it sounds fast."
"It doesn't sound fast," he said. "It is fast."
Her jaw tightened slightly.
"It doesn't feel fast."
That shut him up for half a second.
Because that...
That meant she had been thinking about it longer than she was letting on.
"How long?" he asked.
She hesitated.
"Since the lake," she admitted.
That tracked.
He nodded slowly.
"Then why not talk to him first?" Parker asked. "Before you make something like that official?"
Her gaze dropped to the floor.
Because there it was.
The part she didn't want to face.
"I can't," she said.
"You can."
"I can't," she repeated, her voice quieter now. "Not like this."
Parker studied her for a second.
"Why?"
She let out a breath, shaking her head.
"Because I don't know what I'll say if I hear his voice again."
That was honest.
"And I don't trust myself not to... not try and hold on," she added.
There it was.
The truth.
Raw.
Unprotected.
"I've already decided to let him go," she said. "If I talk to him again, I might start looking for reasons not to."
Parker's chest tightened.
"Or you might get the closure you need."
She looked up at him, something sharp flickering behind her eyes.
"I already have my answer."
"Do you?"
"Yes."
Her voice didn't waver.
"He went after her."
A beat.
"That's the answer."
Parker exhaled slowly. "That's part of the answer."
"It's the only part that matters."
He shook his head slightly. "No, it's not."
She frowned. "It is to me."
"Emily," he said, stepping closer, his voice more grounded now. "You're making a permanent decision based on a moment."
Her eyes narrowed just slightly.
"It wasn't a moment," she said. "It was a choice."
"And you think that means everything else you had with him just doesn't matter?"
"That's not what I said."
"It's what you're acting like."
That landed.
She didn't like it.
He saw that.
Good.
Because she needed to hear it.
"I'm not saying you shouldn't leave," Parker continued. "I'm not saying you shouldn't move on. Hell, I'm not even saying you shouldn't file for divorce."
He paused.
"But I am saying you should talk to him before you close that door completely."
Her chest rose.
Fell.
"And say what?" she asked. "What exactly am I supposed to say to him?"
"The truth," Parker said simply.
She let out a soft, humorless laugh.
"That hasn't exactly worked out for me so far."
"It might this time."
She shook her head.
"No. It won't."
"Why are you so sure?"
"Because I know him."
Parker tilted his head slightly.
"Do you?"
That question hung there.
He didn't say it to challenge her.
He said it because it was the truth. She knew Will and now days he was more Chase.
"He's going to choose her," she said quietly.
There was no bitterness in it.
Just certainty.
"And I don't think I can stand there and listen to him say it out loud."
Parker's jaw tightened.
"Running from it doesn't make it easier."
"No," she said. "But it makes it survivable."
A pause.
"I've already made peace with this," she added. "If I go back and open it up again... I don't know if I'll be able to do that twice."
That was it.
That was the real reason.
Parker exhaled slowly, his frustration easing just a fraction.
Because he got it.
He didn't agree with it.
But he got it.
"You don't have to go today," he said, softer now.
Her eyes flicked to the suitcase.
Then back to him.
"I think I do."
"Why?"
"Because if I stay," she said, "I'll keep waiting."
Parker looked at her for a long second.
Taking her in.
The strength.
The hurt.
The way she was holding herself together even when everything in her was breaking.
"You do deserve better than that," he said quietly.
She didn't respond right away.
Because she didn't quite believe it yet.
But she wanted to.
He could see that.
Her fingers tightened around the handle of her suitcase.
"I just don't want to regret this," she admitted.
His expression softened.
"Then don't rush it."
She shook her head slightly.
"I'm not rushing. I'm choosing."
Parker nodded slowly.
"Alright," he said.
Not agreeing.
Not stopping her.
Just... respecting it.
But he wasn't done.
"Just promise me one thing."
She looked at him.
"What?"
"If he calls again..."
A beat.
"You answer."
Her chest tightened.
She hesitated.
"Okay," she said quietly.
Parker's POV
Parker stared at the phone in his hand for a long moment before finally making the call.
He hated this.
Every part of it.
The timing.
The pain.
The fact that everyone involved looked like they were slowly bleeding out emotionally while pretending they were handling it.
Emily was leaving in less than two hours.
Her bags were packed.
Her plane ticket sat on the kitchen counter beside her coffee.
And Parker could feel it in his gut.
If she left now without speaking to Chase face to face, there would always be unfinished business hanging between them.
Regret.
Questions.
The kind of things that kept people awake years later.
He was not about to let that happen if he could help it.
The line rang twice before Aria answered.
"Hey."
Her voice sounded tired.
Parker leaned back against the kitchen counter, lowering his own voice instinctively as he glanced toward the living room where Emily sat curled into the corner of the couch.
"I need you to bring him over."
Silence.
Then...
"Parker..."
"She's leaving."
That stopped her.
He heard the shift in her breathing immediately.
"What?"
"She packed everything," he said quietly. "She's heading home."
Another pause.
"And before she does, they need to talk."
Aria did not answer immediately.
When she finally did, her voice was softer.
"He's here with me."
"I figured."
A beat.
"He's staying here for now," she added carefully. "But not like that."
Parker closed his eyes briefly.
Of course she felt the need to clarify.
"Alright," he said. "That's your business."
Another silence stretched between them before he added quietly,
"Just bring him, Aria."
She exhaled slowly.
"Okay."
Forty-five minutes later, headlights rolled into the driveway.
Parker opened the front door before they even made it to the porch.
Aria stepped inside first.
Chase followed behind her.
The tension entered the room with them.
Not explosive.
Not hostile.
Just heavy.
Emily looked up from the couch immediately, and Parker felt her entire body tense beside him.
Chase stopped the second he saw her.
And for a moment...
Nobody spoke.
Aria finally broke the silence first.
"He's staying with me," she said.
Direct.
Clean.
Parker's eyes flicked toward Chase briefly before back to her.
"As friends," she added firmly.
That part was intentional.
Not just for Emily.
For Chase too.
Parker saw the way Chase's jaw tightened slightly at the clarification, but he said nothing.
Emily nodded once.
Small.
Controlled.
"Okay," she said softly.
The room fell quiet again.
Parker hated it.
He looked between them all before finally stepping back.
"You two should talk."
Emily's fingers tightened slightly around the sleeve of her sweater.
Chase looked uncertain for the first time since walking in.
Good.
He should.
"I'll be outside," Parker said quietly.
Emily looked at him immediately.
Panic flickered there for just a second.
He softened.
"You'll be alright," he told her gently.
Her throat moved as she swallowed.
Then she nodded.
Aria touched Emily's shoulder softly as she passed by her, offering a small look of understanding before following Parker outside and quietly shutting the door behind them.
Leaving Chase and Emily alone.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Emily finally stood first.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like sudden movement might break something.
"You found her," she said quietly.
Chase nodded once.
"Yeah."
Her eyes searched his face.
Not accusing.
Just... searching.
Trying to understand what she already knew.
"And?" she asked softly.
He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand across the back of his neck before looking at her fully.
"And I think you already know."
That hurt her.
He saw it immediately.
But she nodded anyway.
"Yeah," she whispered. "I do."
Silence settled again.
Not angry.
Just painful.
Chase stepped forward slightly.
"Emily..."
She shook her head lightly.
"No. Just tell me the truth."
That stopped him.
Because she deserved that.
At the very least.
The truth.
He took a breath.
"I think it's best if we get a divorce."
There it was.
No softening.
No dancing around it.
Emily closed her eyes briefly.
Parker could not hear them from outside, but through the window he could see enough to know exactly when the words landed.
When they broke her.
Inside, Chase continued carefully.
"I care about you," he said. "I always will."
Emily laughed softly under her breath.
"That's never a good start."
Pain sat behind the joke.
Heavy.
Real.
Chase looked down briefly before continuing.
"When I married you..." he said slowly, choosing each word carefully, "I wasn't in my right mind."
Emily flinched.
Not visibly to anyone else maybe.
But he saw it.
So did she.
"I don't mean that cruelly," he added quickly. "And I'm not saying what we had wasn't real."
"Then what are you saying?" she asked quietly.
He struggled for a moment.
Because this part felt ugly no matter how honestly he tried to say it.
"I think..." he swallowed hard, "I think I was vulnerable in ways I didn't fully understand."
Her face paled slightly.
"And I think you were too close to the situation to see that clearly."
That hurt her more.
He saw it immediately.
Her eyes filled.
"I took advantage of you?" she whispered.
Chase closed his eyes briefly.
"I'm saying I don't know if either of us should've been making those kinds of decisions while I was still trying to figure out who I even was."
Emily stared at him.
Silent tears slipping down her face now.
"That's not fair," she whispered.
"I know."
"No, you don't," she said, her voice finally cracking. "You don't know what it was like loving someone who had nothing. No memories. No family. No identity."
Her chest rose sharply.
"I wasn't trying to trap you, Chase."
He softened immediately at the hurt in her voice.
"I know you weren't."
"And I loved you."
"I know."
"That was real too."
His eyes met hers.
"I know that too."
That was what made this so hard.
Because none of it had been fake.
Emily wiped at her face angrily.
"Then what changed?"
Chase's expression tightened.
"You came back."
Not physically.
Emotionally.
The truth of himself.
The memories.
The pull toward Aria.
Everything.
"I remembered who I was," he said quietly.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"And she was there waiting."
That wasn't bitterness.
That was grief.
Pure and simple.
Chase stepped closer carefully.
"I do love you," he said again.
Emily looked away immediately.
"But not like her."
There it was.
The final wound.
The one neither of them could avoid anymore.
Chase swallowed hard.
"No," he admitted quietly.
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Final.
Then softer, almost breaking himself, he added:
"I think somewhere along the way... you stopped feeling like my wife."
Emily's face crumpled.
"And started feeling like my best friend."
That destroyed what little composure she had left.
She covered her mouth as the sob escaped her chest.
And Chase stood there hating himself for being the reason.
Emily wiped at her face quickly, like she was embarrassed by the tears now.
Not because she was crying.
Because she knew what this looked like.
From every angle.
To everyone else.
Her breathing shook as she looked away from him, wrapping her arms around herself tightly.
"From a professional standpoint," she said quietly, "I know how bad this all was."
Chase stilled.
"My friends told me not to get involved with you." A weak laugh escaped her, humorless and full of hurt. "Actually, they practically begged me not to."
Her eyes lifted to his again, red and glassy.
"They told me I was too emotionally involved in your recovery. That patients form attachments all the time after trauma. That I needed boundaries. Distance."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"And maybe they were right."
Chase opened his mouth, but she shook her head gently.
"No, let me finish. Please."
That stopped him.
Emily swallowed hard before continuing.
"When I met you, you were barely holding yourself together. You were hurting all the time. Half the nights you couldn't sleep because every time you closed your eyes, something terrified you."
Her voice softened despite herself.
"You didn't trust anyone. You wouldn't let nurses touch you without warning first. You hated crowded rooms. Loud noises."
A shaky breath left her.
"And every little piece of progress felt huge."
Her eyes drifted slightly, lost in it now.
"The first time you laughed with me, I went home and cried in my car because I was so relieved to see you feel something besides pain."
Chase's chest tightened.
Emily let out another weak laugh through her tears.
"That should've been my warning sign right there."
Silence settled briefly before she looked back at him.
"But I loved you anyway."
No hesitation.
No shame.
Just truth.
"I tried not to at first. I really did."
Her voice cracked softly.
"But you made me coffee in the therapy room one morning because you remembered how I took it. You stayed up with me one night in the hospital cafeteria when I was exhausted and rambling about my dad's surgery. You started looking at me like I was keeping you alive."
Her throat tightened visibly.
"And somewhere along the way... you became my person."
That landed hard between them.
Because he remembered all of that too.
Emily shook her head slowly.
"I didn't think I was stealing someone else's husband."
The words came out quieter now.
Smaller.
"God, Will... I thought Chase was gone."
Her eyes filled harder.
"Everyone did."
The grief in her voice deepened.
"And then when we found out about Aria..."
She stopped speaking for a moment, emotion overtaking her.
"When they told us there was someone else out there who loved you before me, I remember thinking..."
Her lips trembled.
"I remember thinking it's okay because no woman waits that long."
A tear slid down her cheek.
"No woman stays faithful to a ghost for years and years hoping he'll walk through the door again."
Her gaze lowered.
"But she did."
That truth humbled her even now.
"And the worst part is..." Emily whispered, "the second I met her, I understood why you loved her."
That hit Chase directly in the chest.
Emily laughed softly again, wiping at her face.
"She's kind. She's loyal. Even after all this, she still cares about what happens to me."
A pause.
"And honestly? I think if I were in her position, I'd hate me."
Chase frowned immediately.
"She doesn't hate you."
"No," Emily agreed softly. "She doesn't."
Another tear fell.
"And that somehow makes this hurt even worse."
She turned slightly away from him then, her shoulders curling inward.
"It feels like her story reversed itself onto me."
Her voice nearly broke on the words.
"For years, she was the woman who lost the man she loved."
A shaky breath.
"And now I am."
The room went still around them.
Emily pressed her lips together tightly before continuing.
"I know what it looks like from the outside. I know people are probably going to say I crossed boundaries and got too attached to a vulnerable patient."
She looked back at him.
"And maybe I did."
That honesty hurt to hear.
Because she meant it.
Not manipulatively.
Not defensively.
Just honestly.
"But none of it was fake," she whispered. "Not for me."
Chase's jaw tightened.
"I know."
"I loved you with everything I had."
A beat.
"And now I have to figure out how to stop."
That one nearly broke him.
Because he could hear how impossible it felt for her.
The same impossible feeling he had seen in Aria.
Different women.
Different stories.
Same grief.
Emily finally sat down slowly on the edge of the couch like her legs could no longer hold her up.
Her hands twisted together tightly in her lap.
"You know what the cruelest part is?" she asked quietly.
Chase swallowed hard.
"What?"
She looked up at him through tears.
"If you had never remembered her..."
A pause.
"I think we would've been happy."
That silence that followed felt endless.
Because he knew she was right.
Emily let out a trembling breath.
"But you did remember," she whispered.
"And I can't compete with a love story that survived even death."
Her face crumpled again as fresh tears slid down her cheeks.
"So I'm letting you go before I start hating myself for wishing she never got you back."
Chase stood there, staring at her, and for the first time since all of this began, he truly understood the full weight of what had happened.
Not just to him.
To everyone.
Because until now, some part of him had still been viewing this through the lens of confusion. Through memory loss. Through trauma and identity and trying to piece himself back together.
But Emily...
Emily had loved him completely.
She loved the broken version of him.
The unfinished version.
The frightened version.
And now she was losing him.
Something heavy settled in his chest.
Guilt.
Real guilt.
Not confusion.
Not conflict.
Just guilt.
"You didn't deserve this," he said quietly.
Emily laughed softly through her tears.
"No one did."
That was true too.
She wiped at her face again, exhausted now more than emotional.
Like she had finally cried herself empty.
"I think that's the hardest part," she admitted. "That I became the villain here."
Her eyes lifted to his.
"You didn't choose what happened to you. Aria didn't choose to lose you. And I did choose to fall in love with you."
A shaky breath.
"But somehow all three of us still ended up hurting each other."
The pain in her voice made his chest ache.
Chase took a slow step closer.
Careful.
Measured.
Like he was afraid of making this worse somehow.
"I never wanted to hurt you."
"I know."
"You saved my life."
That made her look away immediately.
Because hearing that now only hurt more.
"When they brought me into that hospital," he continued quietly, "I didn't know anything. I didn't know who I was. I didn't know what was real. Half the time I didn't even know where I was."
His throat tightened.
"But I knew you."
Emily's eyes closed briefly.
"And you were safe."
That nearly broke her again.
She pressed her lips together tightly, trying to keep herself composed.
"I hate that I'm losing Will... he made me feel safe and seen and he became my home." she admitted softly.
He swallowed hard.
"I know."
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "I get that you do but it's also a little different."
Emily looked back up at him, tears filling her eyes all over again.
"Do you know what it's like to have someone become part of your daily existence?"
Her voice trembled.
"To wake up every morning and think about them before your feet even hit the floor?"
Another tear slipped down her cheek.
"To build your routines around them? Your future around them?"
Her chest rose sharply.
"You became part of every piece of my life, Chase."
A beat.
"And now I have to learn how to exist without you in it."
The grief in her voice hit him like a punch to the chest.
Because she wasn't being dramatic.
She was mourning.
Just like Aria had mourned him.
The realization twisted painfully inside him.
"I wish I could make this easier," he said quietly.
Emily let out a small, broken laugh.
"You can't."
And they both knew it.
There was no version of this conversation that ended without pain.
A long silence settled between them.
Finally, Emily inhaled slowly and straightened slightly.
"So what happens now?"
Chase hesitated.
Because he honestly did not know.
"I think..." he paused, searching for the words carefully, "I think I need time to figure out who I am now."
Emily nodded faintly.
"That's fair."
"And I think you deserve the chance to figure out who you are outside of me too."
That hurt her.
He saw it instantly.
But she nodded anyway.
Because some part of her knew he was right.
For so long, her world had revolved around helping him heal that she had forgotten how to exist separately from it.
"You know what's funny?" she said quietly after a moment.
Chase looked at her.
"I am jealous of Aria."
The honesty caught him off guard.
Emily huffed softly through her nose.
"Not because I think she is better than me."
A pause.
"But because I knew what it meant to be loved by you too."
That landed hard.
"She had all these memories with you. All this history. This entire life that existed before I ever met you."
Her eyes softened slightly.
"Then one day I realized something."
Chase frowned slightly.
"What?"
Emily looked directly at him.
"She loved Chase and I loved Will, and they were never the same man at all."
His chest tightened immediately.
"Just so very different."
She stood slowly from the couch, wiping the last of her tears from beneath her eyes.
"I filed for divorce this morning."
Chase blinked.
"What?"
"I already started the paperwork."
The words stunned him.
"Emily..."
"I'm not doing it because I'm angry at you," she said quickly. "And I'm not doing it to punish you."
Her voice steadied.
"I'm doing it because I can't keep holding onto a marriage when your heart is somewhere else."
That truth settled heavily between them.
"I didn't know," he admitted quietly.
"I know."
A faint sadness crossed her face.
"You were busy trying to find yourself and that's exactly what you should be doing."
Chase dragged a hand down his face slowly.
"I don't even know what to say to that."
Emily gave him a tired little smile.
"You don't have to say anything."
A pause.
"I think we've both said enough tonight."
That was probably true.
Still...
Neither of them moved.
Because endings were strange like that.
Even when everyone knew it was over, people still stood there searching for one last thing to hold onto.
One last sentence.
One last reason.
One last version of the story where it didn't end this way.
Finally, Emily stepped toward him.
Slowly.
Carefully.
And before he could think too much about it, she wrapped her arms around him.
Not desperately.
Not romantically.
Just... lovingly.
Like goodbye.
Chase closed his eyes as he hugged her back.
And for a moment, grief moved through him so sharply it nearly took his breath.
Because he did love her.
He truly did just as a best friend now.
Emily pulled back first.
Her eyes searched his face one last time.
Then softly, through the ache in her voice, she said,
"Go find your way back to her."
That made him hurt for her more than anything else she had said all night.
Because she meant it.
Even though it destroyed her.
And Chase realized in that moment that letting someone go when you still loved them...
Might be one of the purest forms of love there was.