Emery’s eyes are slivers of blue above her knees. “What is he, then?”
I think about the answer. About the way Ranier looks at the world—like it’s a test he’s always about to fail. But there’s also the way he sat up with Wyatt the night Christopher died. He was the only person who didn’t try tofixit.
“He’s an idiot. But Ranier would rather break his own ribs than watch someone he loves get hurt. He’s just never learned how to do both. To love and not destroy.”
Emery shifts. The blanket falls away from her face. “And what about you? What’s your excuse?”
I shake my head. “None. I didn’t try to stop Ranier at first when we were put together as a pack. But I love you, Emery. I don’t want this to break us. I know it hurt you though, and your hurt is valid. But Wyatt didn’t do this.”
Emery sits up. Her cheeks are red, eyes rimmed in pink, but she looks at me and I see something flicker there. Not forgiveness. Not yet. But something.
I lean forward. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. You know that, right?”
Emery shakes her head, like I’m lying.
“It’s true. You have the patience of a saint, the healing touch of an angel, but more than that—you see us. You see me, and Wyatt, and even Ranier, and you’re not afraid. You were never afraid, even when we were doing everything we could to push you out.”
Emery looks away, picking at the hem of her sleeve. “You make it sound easy.”
“It’s not,” I admit. “But you make it look that way.”
There’s a silence, thick and uneasy, but Emery doesn’t retreat. She just sits there, breathing.
After a minute, she says, “What happens now?”
I shrug. “Up to you. If you want to come back, the nest is yours. If you want to burn the house down, I’ll bring matches.”
She almost smiles. “That’s dramatic.”
“Have you met me?”
Emery actually smiles, just a little. It gives me permission to have hope. Hope that we all really did fall in love. And while sometimes miscommunications and arguments happen, it’s not the end-all be-all. The important part is that the truth is out there.
Emery nods. “I just… need time. To think. To breathe.”
“You can have all the time you need.”As long as you come back to us.I don’t say it despite wanting to because I know how itcouldsound. Emery’s decisions are her own. They always have been. But fuck. I don’t know what I or the pack will do without her.
Emery chews her lip, then glances at Eloise who’s appeared in the hallway, watching but not interrupting. “There’s a PR event tomorrow. For the shelter project. I promised I’d go.”
I stand, careful not to loom. “I’ll be there. We all will if you want us there.”
She nods, and it’s shaky, but it’s a yes. I’ll take it.
I turn to go, but at the door I pause and look back. “Hey, Emery?”
Emery looks up.
“I’m not good at this. But I mean it—I’ll bring the matches.”
She laughs, quiet, but it’s enough.
I leave the apartment, shoes squelching on the stairs, and step out into the cold. It’s no longer biting. It’s invigorating.
This is how you start over.
CHAPTER 33
Emery
