I’m well-accustomed to healing up injuries. This shouldn’t be any different. And this time, I have Jared.
I never had anyone before.
“Emmy,” he breathes. The basket lands with a thump on the floor, and I swallow as he steps closer. “Look at me.”
I lift my chin. I don’t know why my eyes feel wet. Jared’s finger gathers the first drop from my eyelashes, carefully wiping away the tears.
“This is stupid.”
He doesn’t move when I lean forward, burying my face in his chest. Instead, he lets out a quiet breath, wrapping his arms around me. No questions. No pushing. Just a gentle acceptance that this is what I need. “No, it’s not.”
Ben’s heart was always strong and fast. A hummingbird, ready to take off until he was close to the end.
Jared’s heartbeat is steady beneath my cheek. A steady, regular pulse. Comforting.
And somehow, he realized it. Maybe because every morning I wake up with my ear pressed against it, gravitating toward him even in my sleep.
“I’m okay now,” I whisper.
His hand smooths over my hair. “Good.”
But neither of us move.
65
Jared
I’m hurrying back, my hat pulled low to ward off the cold, when something catches my eye.
Pausing, I glance over the buckets of flowers, hefting the bag of groceries. The market is packed with shoppers scouring for last-minute gifts.
The owner finishes wrapping a bouquet and turns to me with a gleam, clearly spotting another potential victim. “Roses?”
Valentine's Day.
Already.
We spent a quiet Christmas together, movies and games, and the same for New Year, avoiding the crowds.
My gold coin burns a hole in my pocket. Courtesy of Mike, a small smile on his face as he tossed it to me when I was rushing out of the door earlier.
Sixty days.
And I’m still with Emmy. Still sleeping in the same bed, going through the motions.
Both of us skirting the topic of me leaving.
She hasn’t gone back to work yet. When she does… that’s the right time.
That’s what I keep telling myself.
I’m still staring at the flowers. “Just… give me a minute.”
My stomach knots as I pull out my phone.
Emmy has her back to me when I let myself in. The apartment is warm, soft music from her speaker filling the space as she leans over the cooker.
“Hey,” she announces without looking behind her. “Please come and taste this. I think I ruined it.”
