doesn’t matter now. So I lied to you. You all have won, okay? I’m not going anywhere, because I don’t have anywhere left to go. Olivia loves it here, and isn’t that what you all wanted? To make sure she loved it here?”
“Ember, no one—”
“And now I have nothing.” My voice broke. “So you’ve won. Aren’t you happy?”
He reached for me again. This time his hand caught my arm. “This doesn’t make me happy.”
I looked down at his hand. His fingers, long and elegant, circled my covered arm completely. I glanced up; our eyes locked for one, two, three counts. Something intense flowed across his face, and he took a step forward—so close I had to crane my neck back.
“You hurting would never make me happy,” Hayden said.
“You don’t get it. He was all I had. Adam was it. That was it. And you all took it away.”
He flinched and dropped my arm. “That’s not true. I’m here for you.”
Shaking my head, I backed up. “I don’t know you, so that means nothing to me.”
* * *
“Emmie? You sleeping?”
I opened my eyes, staring at the vaulted ceiling. “No.”
Olivia was quiet. Seconds later, I felt her hoist herself over the edge of the bed. She crawled across and sat so her face was directly above mine. I closed and opened my eyes, but her face was still planted in front of mine.
“Why didn’t you eat dinner?”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
She reached out and grabbed a handful of my hair. I braced myself, but she managed to not leave me bald this time. “Ms. Liz said you had a bad day.”
That was the understatement of the millennium.
Humming softly, she separated the curls in her hands. I stayed impossibly still so her little fingers didn’t brush my scalp.
“You mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you.”
“You sad?” She tugged a thick curl across her fingers.
I had no idea how she jumped from me being mad at her to me being sad. It hurt my head to even try to figure it out. “I’m just tired.”
Straightening out several curls, she pulled my hair in front of my face. Her fingers smelled like Play-Doh. I loved that smell. The sudden rush of tears was unexpected. I squeezed my eyes shut.
She let go of my hair, giggling as the curl sprang back. “Emmie?”
“Yeah?” Even with my eyes closed, I felt her face in mine again.
“I love you lots.”
Something was wrong with my eyelids. They weren’t blocking the tears. I slid my hands between us and smacked them over my face. I bit down on my lip to keep the horrible sound from escaping.
Olivia tugged on my sleeves. “Emmie?”
“I love you too,” I said thickly.
Eventually, she gave up on the tug of war. The bed dipped as Olivia shifted down and wrapped her arms around my waist. I didn’t dare move until I heard Olivia’s soft snore. I lowered my hands carefully to chest level.
Vaguely, I wondered when I’d turned into such a wuss. I had cried after the accident, Dad’s death, and my own dying stuff, but I thought I’d used up a lifetime’s worth of tears. But losing Adam was just as painful—ripping open old wounds, creating new ones. I eventually caved to exhaustion.
My eyelids drifted shut and when I opened them again, Olivia was gone.
Crying always left my head feeling like a drummer had taken up residence inside my skull. I pushed off the covers and swung my feet off the bed.
Soft light from the bedside lamp cut away at the darkness. I found my way to the bathroom and washed away what remained of my tear-fest. Then I pulled off my hoodie and tossed it back into the bedroom. I refused to look in the mirror after that. With my current drama-induced freak-out, I would probably throw myself on the floor after one glimpse of my scars.
Unable to fall back to sleep, I sat down at the desk and booted up the computer. Hope sparked alive when I checked my email. There were old messages from Adam, proving that he had known me once upon a time, and the one Dad had forwarded to me before the accident, but
“Ember, no one—”
“And now I have nothing.” My voice broke. “So you’ve won. Aren’t you happy?”
He reached for me again. This time his hand caught my arm. “This doesn’t make me happy.”
I looked down at his hand. His fingers, long and elegant, circled my covered arm completely. I glanced up; our eyes locked for one, two, three counts. Something intense flowed across his face, and he took a step forward—so close I had to crane my neck back.
“You hurting would never make me happy,” Hayden said.
“You don’t get it. He was all I had. Adam was it. That was it. And you all took it away.”
He flinched and dropped my arm. “That’s not true. I’m here for you.”
Shaking my head, I backed up. “I don’t know you, so that means nothing to me.”
* * *
“Emmie? You sleeping?”
I opened my eyes, staring at the vaulted ceiling. “No.”
Olivia was quiet. Seconds later, I felt her hoist herself over the edge of the bed. She crawled across and sat so her face was directly above mine. I closed and opened my eyes, but her face was still planted in front of mine.
“Why didn’t you eat dinner?”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
She reached out and grabbed a handful of my hair. I braced myself, but she managed to not leave me bald this time. “Ms. Liz said you had a bad day.”
That was the understatement of the millennium.
Humming softly, she separated the curls in her hands. I stayed impossibly still so her little fingers didn’t brush my scalp.
“You mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you.”
“You sad?” She tugged a thick curl across her fingers.
I had no idea how she jumped from me being mad at her to me being sad. It hurt my head to even try to figure it out. “I’m just tired.”
Straightening out several curls, she pulled my hair in front of my face. Her fingers smelled like Play-Doh. I loved that smell. The sudden rush of tears was unexpected. I squeezed my eyes shut.
She let go of my hair, giggling as the curl sprang back. “Emmie?”
“Yeah?” Even with my eyes closed, I felt her face in mine again.
“I love you lots.”
Something was wrong with my eyelids. They weren’t blocking the tears. I slid my hands between us and smacked them over my face. I bit down on my lip to keep the horrible sound from escaping.
Olivia tugged on my sleeves. “Emmie?”
“I love you too,” I said thickly.
Eventually, she gave up on the tug of war. The bed dipped as Olivia shifted down and wrapped her arms around my waist. I didn’t dare move until I heard Olivia’s soft snore. I lowered my hands carefully to chest level.
Vaguely, I wondered when I’d turned into such a wuss. I had cried after the accident, Dad’s death, and my own dying stuff, but I thought I’d used up a lifetime’s worth of tears. But losing Adam was just as painful—ripping open old wounds, creating new ones. I eventually caved to exhaustion.
My eyelids drifted shut and when I opened them again, Olivia was gone.
Crying always left my head feeling like a drummer had taken up residence inside my skull. I pushed off the covers and swung my feet off the bed.
Soft light from the bedside lamp cut away at the darkness. I found my way to the bathroom and washed away what remained of my tear-fest. Then I pulled off my hoodie and tossed it back into the bedroom. I refused to look in the mirror after that. With my current drama-induced freak-out, I would probably throw myself on the floor after one glimpse of my scars.
Unable to fall back to sleep, I sat down at the desk and booted up the computer. Hope sparked alive when I checked my email. There were old messages from Adam, proving that he had known me once upon a time, and the one Dad had forwarded to me before the accident, but
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