He snuggles deeper, and I tuck the blankets around his shoulders. Talia stands and squeezes my arm as we tiptoe out, leaving his nightlight glowing.
After, Talia and I head out into the living room, and I curl up next to her on the couch and cry. She holds me and strokes my hair, letting me release all my emotions.
After a long stretch of silence, I whisper, voice cracking, “I’m still in love with him, Tal. I love him, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”
“I know,” she says softly. There’s no judgment in her tone, just understanding.
Talia’s never been in love. She’s too restless for roots, too alive for permanence. The fact that she’s stayed here for five years, helping me raise Laddie, holding my world together, is the longest she’s ever stayed anywhere.
Maybe it’s because we’re sisters.
Maybe she just knew I needed her.
“I’m glad you got this new job,” I tell her, swiping at my tears. “You deserve to see the world. It wasn’t fair of me to pull you intoall this—to trap you here with me when I showed up pregnant and broken.”
She shakes her head, firm but gentle. “You didn’t trap me. I could’ve said no, Em. But I didn’t. I chose you. I chose Laddie. That’s family.”
Her hand squeezes mine. “But for the record,” she adds with a sad smile, “you broke your own heart. That boy would’ve done anything for you. Everything. He never would’ve left you, especially not because you were pregnant.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about him,” I say.
“I told you, I don’t think he’s a bad person.”
“He’s not,” I agree quietly. “He’s a good man. That’s why I didn’t want him to have to make a choice. He finally had a chance to get free, and I wanted that for him, even if it meant getting away without me.”
“I know that, too.”
My voice breaks. “What should I do?”
She squeezes my hand. “Go find him. Tell him you love him. Tell him you screwed up and you’re sorry.”
After crying out and exhausted, I drag myself into the shower, hoping the hot water will wash away the ache sitting heavy in my chest.
It doesn’t.
When I climb into bed, I scroll my phone mindlessly, trying not to spiral, but every thought circles back to him.
I could go to his place.
Knock on the door.
Make him listen.
But what if that mafia creep shows up again? Liam would lose it if I got mixed up in that mess.
Maybe I could wait for him after his next game to catch him in the parking garage, make him look me in the eye.
Except he said security’s tighter now. I probably wouldn’t even get close.
Think, Emma. Think.
Finally, I just decided to call. The phone rings once, twice, then cuts off before voicemail picks up.
I try again.
This time, the screen flashes a cold message that guts me.
You’ve been blocked.
