Chapter Thirteen
Emmie
The kitchen is quiet, save for the soft crackle of the frying pan and the occasional scrape of a knife on the chopping board. My hands move automatically. Eggs, toast, butter - like if I just keep going, I won’t have to stop and feel anything.
My head is pounding, my body aches in places I don’t want to think about. And my heart? It feels like someone shattered it in the dark and left me to piece it together.
The kettle whistles, shrill and unforgiving, dragging me from my thoughts. Mum pads in, her hair tousled from sleep, eyes still squinting at the light. “Morning, love.”
“Morning.” I force a smile, flipping the eggs.
She eyes me for a second, then reaches for a mug. “What time did you get in?”
“Not late,” I say smoothly, keeping my back to her. “Just after midnight, I think.”
“Huh.” She yawns. “Thought it was later.” I shrug and plate the toast. She settles at the table, warming her hands on her mug. “Was it a good night?”
I pause. Just a beat. But long enough. “Yeah,” I lie. “It was fun.”
She smiles. “Glad you went. You deserve to have some fun now and again.”
I nod, sitting across from her and chewing on a piece of toast that tastes like cardboard. “Yeah.” I take a breath. “I’m really sorry for last night,” I say, not quite meeting her eye. “I shouldn’t have been so rude.”
She smiles warmly and places her hand gently over mine.
“Don’t worry.” Then she sips her coffee.
“Besides, you were right.” I glance up. “Sometimes I rush into these things and then they go wrong. So, this time, I’m going to take my time.
Me and Joel are going to stay friends. He needs help,” she gives a small shrug, “And maybe I do too.”
I force a watery smile. “That’s great, Mum.” She nods in agreement. “Also,” I continue, “I was thinking that I’d spend the summer with Grandma in Scotland.”
“Because of me?” she asks, her face full of worry.
I shake my head, trying hard to fight the tears. “No, not because of you. I just thought it would be nice to get a real rest before university starts. And I haven’t spent any real time with her for years.”
Her eyes burn into me like she’s trying to read my inner thoughts. “Okay,” she says with a nod. “I’ll call her today. And maybe once you’ve had a break you can tell me what happened between you and Kai.”
A small sob escapes, and she rushes to stand, wrapping her arms around me. “Oh, Emmie,” she whispers, kissing my hair. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”
I want to believe her. God, I do. But the weight in my chest tells me some things might never be okay again.