At Emery’s house, I knocked on the door and waited. When there was no answer, I let myself in.
Like the first time, I found Emery sitting on the couch, wide-eyed and trembling. Only this time, the blanket I’d bought him was around his shoulders. At least the circles under his eyes weren’t as dark.
“Morning,” I greeted, shutting the door tightly behind me.
When he didn’t say anything, which I was finding to be typical, I looked towards the kitchen. “Did you eat breakfast?” My eyes went back to him. This time, his eyes dropped from mine. “Emery?”
“No.” A squeak.
All right, then.
Without a word, keeping my emotions in check, I stalked to the kitchen. There, I made another bowl of oatmeal, just like the last time. Debating on taking it to him or making him come to me was a tough decision.
Maybe Emery knew, as he slowly took a seat at the island, head down.
I pushed the bowl and spoon towards him, then got his meds out. I assumed he wasn’t taking them either, as the bottles sat exactly as I had left them the day before.
“Did you at least eat anything else yesterday?”
At my question, he froze mid bite. Then, slowly, he shook his head.
I breathed through my nose. “Eat.”
Once the word passed my lips, Emery quickly finished what was before him. His body shook, but he did as I said. He even took the meds without my prompt.
I waited until he was finished, like last time, to draw his attention back to me.
“Why aren’t you taking better care of yourself?” I kept my voice calm when all I really wanted to do was knock some sense into him.
All I got was a shrug.
“Do I need to come here at these times,” I tapped the paper that still sat on the counter, “to make sure you eat?”
“Sorry. No. I’ll do better. Sorry.” The words were rushed out and I watched as he mentally folded in on himself. My own anger disappeared. It wasn’t his fault.
“Hey,” I soothed, ducking my head to try to meet his. When he refused, I switched tactics. “Do you not like the food? I can get you some different things.”
“No. It’s fine. I’ll eat. I’ll—”
“Emery,” I cut him off, seeing his panic setting in. “Breathe for me, okay? You aren’t in trouble.”
He took in a gasping breath. Then another. I gave him a moment to settle down before speaking again. “You didn’t take your meds last night, either. Did you?”
Another shake of his head.
Right then and there, I made a mental promise to be by later, at dinner. Someone had to care, and I knew it wasn’t going to be him.
“Do you want more to eat right now?” Another shake of his head. He looked damn near close to tears. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
Finally, a nod. At least that was something.
Knowing a little about human behavior, I knew Emery was an abuse survivor of some sort. Either by family, boyfriend, or human trafficking. Or who knew, all three. It was rare, and not many people survived all of that. What I did know was that survivors of abuse needed structure, rules, and a friend.
“How—” my question was cut off as a knock came from the front door. Emery jerked, containing a small yelp of surprise before his hands clamped over his mouth. Every muscle in him stiffened and his breath instantly went into panic. “I’ll get it.”
Opening the door, I was surprised to find Officer Luke, along with Gale. After a moment, I opened the door wider, a silent offering for both of them.
“Good morning, son.” Gale gave me a hug on her way past. To only my ears, she whispered, “Glad you’re here before us.” Then, she let go and instantly went to Emery, talking to him in soft whispers. It also allowed Luke and I a bit of privacy.
