Hasn’t he always been floating away?
The question stings, because the answer is so glaringly obvious now. Even though I’m the one desperate for an escape from everything, a chance for life to bedifferent, tomean something.
Turns out that I’ve become his escape. Always have been. Since that day I brought him back from the hospital, it’s been me pulling him along and hoping that he’ll get better. That he’ll want to live a life worthy of him.
That he’ll help me live mine.
I want to live mine.
With him.
This is so fucked, but now that the words are at the base of my throat, I’m having a hard time keeping them back.
Like a purge I didn’t ask for, they blurt out of me in a rush.
“I got a scholarship to get my certifications for flight paramedic.”
His eyes widen, his blinks slow.
“What?”
I swallow hard. “Flight paramedic. Careflight.”
Emmett just stares at me, and I chew the inside of my lip so long that I taste copper.
“Like on a plane?”
I feel my brows jump, the hand still in my lap running the hem of my jeans beneath my nail. “Helicopter. The ones that travel between hospitals, or straight from a scene if the wounds are too critical to wait the ambo drive.”
“Oh.” His gaze softens the tiniest bit. “Was that hard to get?”
I nod, my heart in my throat. “Yeah, I …” Licking my lips, I drop my head and stare at the table. “The slot only comes up every six months.”
I postponed the last one and nearly lost my shot.
“So, it’s special,” Emmett says, almost a whisper.
I nod because I don’t know that I can speak.
How do I tell him?
How do I tell him I have to leave him?
Pressure on my extended hand has my head snapping up and my lashes dampening.
“It feels special,” he murmurs, the sight of him feathering his fingers over mine blurs.
“I get to help people,” I rasp out.
“More people.”
“Really hurt people.”
“You’re good at that.”
My heart twinges. “I wish I was better.”
I wish I was better for you.
