Chapter 11
Xander
I’m in big trouble.
Listening to Emery talk about her dreams and aspirations under the moonlight…she was a pretty girl, but her inner beauty was almost physically painful to behold. It transcended all standard conventions and became something else. Something more. This girl possessed an intrinsic luminosity, the absolute magnitude of which was apparent only to me in that moment, sitting beside her. Instead of reflecting another source of illumination, shewasthe illumination.
Stop. That way lies pain…
“The stars aresobeautiful,” Emery said, breaking me from my thoughts. She peered at me from under the thick fringe of her bangs. “That’s your brand of physics. Stars and gravity and black holes.”
“Astrophysics, yes.”
Emery nodded. “Grant’s death was like a black hole opening in our family. All that light, just…gone.”
I nodded, my heart heavy for her. “I know it’s not the same thing, but I think of my mother leaving in similar terms. An impenetrable absence.”
Emery turned to me with a wan smile. “I love that—not what it is, but how you describe it.” Her hands twisted in her lap. “I think it’s worse for my brother, Jack. He was closer to Grant than I was.”
I waited while she watched the ocean swell and crash, over and over.
“Our parents had Grant, then seven years later had Jack, then me. Jack says he was insurance in case Grant didn’t do what my dad wanted and that they kept going until they got a girl.”
“That sounds…coldly pragmatic,” I said.
“For my dad, everyone is either an asset or commodity, a profit or a loss.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “Grant was a loss.”
“I’m so very sorry about Grant,” I said. “I could say it a million more times, and I know it wouldn’t help anything, but—”
“It helps that you say his name. We’re not allowed to say his name,” she whispered, as if afraid of being overheard. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “We’re not allowed to talk about him or tell stories or even look at photos.”
My hand rested near hers, and I fought the urge to touch her. Seven years ago, she’d rested her head on my shoulder. If she did that again, I would wrap my arms around her and hold her. Even though I wasn’t allowed to. Even if it was the exact opposite of keeping my heart safe. If I touched her now, I wouldn’t let go.
“Xander?”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah?”
Emery turned her face up to mine. “Do you think…?”
“What?”
“I was going to ask if you thought it was possible to break away from the ideas people have of you. The expectations?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe it depends on one’s escape velocity.”
“What’s that?”
“In astrophysics, escape velocity is the minimum speed an object must achieve to break free from the gravitational pull of a planet or star.”
She nodded. “So maybe in real life, the velocity is how hard someone tries. The harder they try, the better the chance of breaking free.”
Emery was looking at me like she was asking for help. For someone to be on her fucking side and tell her she was luminous and alive, instead of stealing her light and making her doubt herself.
“I think that’s exactly right,” I said fiercely.
“But what if it’s not a planet or sun you’re trying to break free from? What if it’s a black hole that sucks all the light out of you? What then?”
“I think the person needs to keep trying,” I said in a low voice. “No matter what. So that their light never goes out.”
