But hope is the one thing that has continued to break my heart over and over again.
Still, she’s right. If things don’t work out with Henry, I’ll be okay. But if I keep expecting heartbreak at the end of this journey, I’ll never allow myself to reach for happiness.
With or without Henry.
When I pull into my driveway later in the afternoon, my emotions have dulled into an uneasy stillness.
Henry's car is still parked in its usual spot, but the sight of it doesn't comfort me the way it usually does. Instead, it sends a pang of uncertainty through my chest.
I sit in my car longer than necessary before cutting the engine. I press the back of my head into the soft cushion of the seat and try to motivate myself to talk to Henry. Eventually, I find the strength to exit the car.
When I round the corner of the duplex, I'm fully prepared to stomp up the stairs, demanding answers. Instead, Henry is waiting for me on the porch.
He sits on the top step, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the road like he's been waiting for hours. His hair is slightly mussed, and there's tension in his posture that makes my hands want to reach out for him.
Henry looks up as I approach, his expression shifting fromanxious to cautious. He stands when I reach the bottom step, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Emma," he says in a way that makes me want to melt into his arms. I'm seconds away from doing just that, but then I place two hands against the mental wall in my brain and stand firm.
I cross my arms over my chest to protect the softness inside me. "Henry."
A deep and devastating frown settles on his face. "I was hoping we could talk."
"About this morning?" I ask, my voice sharp and ready to strike.
"Yes," he responds quickly. "And about Jenn."
The mention of her name sends a fresh pang of frustration through me. I step onto the porch, closing the distance between us, but I don't sit.
"Why are you here, Henry? You made it clear that you didn't want me around when she showed up."
He flinches. "I know how it must have seemed, but that's not what I meant. I wasn't trying to push you away, Emma. I just—I panicked."
"Panicked?" I repeat, my voice hardening. "Henry, you didn't even let me stay long enough to understand what was happening. You just sent me away like I was some inconvenience."
He exhales slowly, his hands falling to his sides. "You weren't an inconvenience. You're never an inconvenience. I was trying to protect you in my own fucked up way."
"From what?" I snap. "From your ex? From your past? Because all it did was make me feel like I was on the outside looking in. Like there's this whole other part of your life you don't want me to see."
His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks like he might argue. But then his shoulders sag, and he nods. "You're right. Ididn't want you to see what she brings out in me. How small I am around her."
The vulnerability in his words takes me by surprise, softening the sharp edges of my anger. "Henry?—"
"She's always had this power over me," he continues, his voice low. "And I let her. I didn't want you to see me like that—weak, tangled up in everything I've spent years trying to move past. But instead of protecting you, I just pushed you away."
I let out a deep breath. "I understand what you thought you were trying to do, but I need you to let me in. I want to be there for you even when it's messy. Especially when it's messy."
He looks at me, his eyes filled with something raw and unguarded. "I want to. I do. But there's more I need to tell you. About the ghostwriting deal I made."
I take a step back, bracing myself. "What about it?"
"When I agreed to ghostwrite for one of Jenn's clients, I signed a contract that binds me to finish the project," he says, his voice singed in regret. "I thought I could back out when I sent her that email, but I can't. Not without getting sued."
The confession is like an annoying pin poking at the back of my neck. "So, you're stuck?"
He nods. "For now, yes. Jenn made it clear that the client won't let me break it. It's more complicated than I realized, and I should've handled it differently. I just—I didn't want to drag you into this mess."
I stare at him, trying to process what he's saying. "So, what does that mean for you? For us?"
