“Wow, thanks,” she mumbles.
“Let me finish.”
She shuts her mouth.
“Do you realize how boring my childhood would’ve been without you? You pushed me to do things I would have never tried. There isn’t a second that goes by that I regret meeting you. You may not think you’re enough, but you’re wrong. You don’t need to change yourself to be like everyone else. I liked you because you were different. I liked that you were loud and unapologetically yourself. Every day was an adventure with you, and no matter how much you want me to hate you, I’ve spent every day since then missing you.”
She shakes her head, eyes up at the ceiling. “That can’t be true.”
“Look at me. Am I lying?”
There’s a tear that slips down her cheek when she looks at me.
“Am I?” I ask.
Her lips wobble, pinching together before she says, “No.”
“My life is not better without you.”
She wipes her face with the back of her sleeve. “But so much time has gone by. We’re different now, and I don’t think I can forgive myself for what I did. I hate myself for hurting you.”
“Don’t you miss me?”
Her face is lit up by the glow of the sunset as her watery eyes focus on me. “Every day.”
“Are you sorry?”
Her tears pour out like a waterfall. “I’m so sorry for everything.”
“Then stop punishing yourself. I forgive you.”
“Just like that?”
“We’re not meant to be apart, Emma.” I touch her hand and hold my breath. “Please come back to me.”
She looks at my hand on hers, and I can feel the weight ofher stare. It sends goosebumps up my arm, and I ache for her to want me.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“More than anything.”
She kicks her feet out and opens her arms, holding them up in the air. “Then hug me already.”
I smile.
There she is. My Emma.
I wrap my arms around her and she does the same. Relief floods through me when she touches me. It’s a feeling I can’t quite describe. It’s like I’ve been missing a part of myself and I’m finally whole again.
“You smell different,” she says, laughing through her tears.
“Is that a bad thing?”
She pulls away, and for a moment I’m afraid I’ll have to beg her to touch me again. It was too quick. I’m not ready to let her go.
But then she puts her hand on my face, turning it from side to side. “And since when do you shave?”
My face grows hot as she examines me, and I stay perfectly still because I don’t want to scare her off. “I grew up.”
