Wren steers me toward the couch, and I collapse onto the cushions, suddenly feeling every ounce of the ache I've been holding back.
Wren settles in beside me, tucking her legs underneath her. "Talk to me. What's going on? What happened on your date last night?"
I stare at my hands, feeling the tension in my chest pull tighter. I don't even know where to begin.
"Last night was perfect," I whisper. I bite my lip, trying to convince myself one perfect night wasn't enough to erase this hollowness creeping into my heart. "We—I mean, I—uh, we slept together."
Wren's brows shoot up, and her expression changes from concern to cautious curiosity. "You did?" Her voice trails upward, and momentarily, I see the faintest glimmer ofexcitement before suspicion takes the wheel. "Wait, what did he do? Do I need to go over there and snap his pretty boy glasses in two?"
A short, humorless laugh escapes me. "No. It's not like that. He didn't—he's not like that."
Wren narrows her eyes, studying me. "Then what's going on? If last night was so perfect, why do you look like you've been through hell and back?"
The words sit heavy on my tongue, but I force them out anyway. "This morning, his ex showed up."
Her head jerks back like I slapped her. "His ex?"
"Yeah." I drag a hand through my tangled hair, my voice barely above a whisper. "I guess she's also his agent. They have all of this history together, and he told me a lot of other stuff last night. But he mainly told me he fired her and would look for a new agent. And then this morning, she just shows up out of nowhere, and he—" My throat closes, and I swallow hard, forcing the next part out. "He asked me to leave so he could talk to her."
Wren stares at me, open-mouthed like she's waiting for the punchline of some complicated joke. "Let me get this straight. You spent the night with him last night, and then he kicked you out the next morning because his ex-girlfriend showed up?"
I flinch at the way she says it. "It wasn't like that. I mean, he wasn't cruel about it. He said he needed to talk to her. But—" I trail off, blinking hard, trying to push back the sting behind my eyes. "It doesn't change how it felt."
I take a shaky breath, my hands twisting together in my lap. "It felt like I was a dirty little secret keeping him from his real life. Like whatever we have only exists in the confines of this town. As soon as something or someone from the outside butts in, it all comes tumbling down."
Wren's face softens, her voice gentler now. "Emma…"
I shake my head, swallowing hard. "Even before sheshowed up, I tried asking him what happens when summer is over. He said he wanted to stay, but his answer felt hollow."
Wren frowns, her brows knitting together as she leans closer. "Hollow, how?"
I let out a breath that feels heavier than it should. "Like he wants to stay, but it's not that simple. He has loose ends to tie up. Things I don't even know about. And now, with her showing up—" I trail off, my voice catching on the words. "It's like he's still tied to his old life, and I'm just here. Stuck in this small-town bubble, hoping for something that might not exist outside it."
Wren's lips part, but she hesitates, clearly trying to choose her words carefully. "Emma, it sounds like you're giving him room to break your heart before he's even had the chance."
Her words feel prickly on my skin, like an uncomfortable truth I'm not prepared to swallow. I close my eyes, trying to steady myself. "Maybe I am," I whisper. "But what if I'm not. What if this really is just temporary for him? What if she's here to remind him of everything he's leaving behind?"
Wren doesn't answer right away. She reaches for my hand, giving it a squeeze. "You deserve someone who's all in, Em. No hesitations, no maybes. I think Henry has been good for you. You’ve opened up more in the past month than you have since your marriage. It’s hard to explain, but you just seem lighter and more at peace. But if he can’t find a way to be a steady and reliable presence in your life, then he’s not the right person for you.”
Her words hang in the air, heavy and unflinching, and I feel them settle in my chest like stones. No hesitations. No maybes. I deserve that. But the weight of my doubts lingers, creeping in like shadows I can't shake.
I inhale a sharp breath and stare down at my hands. "It's just…" I pause, trying to find the right words. Eventually, they come, and I can't stop them. "It feels like I've been here before, hoping for someone to stay, only to watch them walk away."
I swallow hard, fighting the lump in my throat. The memory of my mom always walking away when I needed her most feels like a wound that I'm constantly reopening.
Everything feels much sharper at this moment. The endless string of disappointments, my mother's absence, and my ex-husband's emotional detachment all led me to this moment, where I'm afraid I'm setting myself up for another heartbreak.
Wren's gaze softens, and she tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You're not that girl anymore, Em. You don't have to wait for someone to leave or settle for being 'enough.' You deserve someone who stays."
The lump in my throat grows, but I force myself to hold it together. "I don't want to be that person," I confess, my voice shaking slightly. "I don't want to push him away before he's even had a chance. But at the same time, I don't want to keep setting myself up for disappointment. I can't keep living like this, waiting for the other shoe to drop."
"Then don’t,” Wren responds, her expression warm and understanding. "You get to choose, Em. You can keep living in fear of losing something good or let yourself believe this time is different. Even if things don’t work out with Henry, I don’t want you to give up on wanting more for yourself. Life hasn’t been kind to you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to embrace the good things when they come your way.”
The words settle deep, heavy but honest. I glance toward the window and admire the soft glow of morning light cutting through the shadows. I want to believe Henry is different—that I'm different now, too. "And what if it’s not? What if I end up disappointed again?”
Wren's smile is quiet but reassuring. “Then you’ll survive. You’ve already survived worse, and you’ll continue tobecause that’s the kind of person you are. You’re strong and resilient, and you keep pushing no matter what.”
Unwavering belief and love sparkle in Wren’s eyes. Her words lift me up and make it easier to see through the fog of doubt constantly hiding my path forward. I want to believe in the person she thinks I am. I want to know that I’m strong enough to let myself hope.
