My chest caved.
She pressed her forehead to mine, breathing me in like she was the one about to leave a part of herself behind. “I love you, Noah Abbott,” she whispered.
“I love you too,” I said back, the words tearing out of me. “You don’t have to do this. Don’t make this the price.”
Her eyes closed. “Sometimes love costs something, and I refuse to let it cost Miles.”
“Em, come on. This is too fast. Sleep in your room tonight. Let’s game plan. This is rash. You can’t leave.”
She picked up her bag then and shook her head. “I need to do this. Please, let me go.”
So I let her. I didn’t try to stop her.
Because for the first time, I understood exactly how strong she was. And exactly how much this was going to hurt.
33
EM
Leaving Noah’s apartment felt like ripping something out of my chest. I couldn’t catch my breath. The moment between releasing my breath and inhaling, I questioned my choice. Was it wrong? Was it right? Why did he look like he was crying?
Fuck.
I took a shaky breath as Sassy’s tailed thumped on the ground of the car. Despite being sixty pounds, she sat on my lap and licked my face. She whined, and Daniel chuckled.
“Your dog knows you’re sad, Em. Reassure her, please. Those sounds are so pathetic.”
“It’s okay, Sassy.” I hugged her and buried my face in her chest, not caring that my glasses pushed into my face and my mascara had to be all over me. She smelled the same, like home and comfort, and I cried into her. “We’re making the right choice, girl.”
Daniel cleared his throat, and I slid him a glare. “What? You disagree?”
“I wouldn’t say I disagree. I think there are solutions there and?—”
“The only solution is me leaving, Daniel. Why don’t you see that?” Images of Miles being pulled out of Noah’s arms, Miles crying for him, his parents taking him away all flashed in my mind. I couldn’t even risk him.
“You love Miles and Noah, I know that. We all do. Maybe it’s good to take a day or two to game plan. That’s all I’m saying. You could’ve stayed there while we did it though.”
“No! What if they came back? Don’t you see!”
God, I was hysterical. I cried again, my chest aching and heart breaking. Miles would wake up and wonder where I was, why Sassy wasn’t with him in the morning. He’d ask Noah, and he’d have to lie or handle it. God, I hadn’t thought that part through. How could Noah handle that without breaking down?
The pain doubled as I held onto Sassy. She rested her head on my shoulder, her own version of a hug, and I let her weight reassure me, calm me down.
Daniel drove, both hands tight on the wheel, the radio off. The city thinned out mile by mile until buildings gave way to trees and familiar exits I hadn’t taken in years
I told myself I was doing the right thing. I repeated it like a mantra until the words dulled, but the second I doubted myself, the urge to scream and throw up returned. What if I’d ruinedeverything?
My parents’ house looked the same as it always had—neatly trimmed lawn, porch light on, curtains drawn halfway like they were always expecting someone. The normalcy of it almost undid me. This place had held every version of me, and right now I felt like none of them. Plus, the last person I wanted to see was my dad.
Maybe I could avoid that. We parked and walked up, both of us in silence. My mom opened the door before Daniel even knocked.
“Oh, Em,” she said, and I was already crying.
She pulled me into her arms, and this time I didn’t hold my emotions together. I sobbed into her shoulder, my body folding in on itself. Despite working so hard to make it, to be independent, I was back home with my parents. She smelled like laundry detergent and the lavender lotion she used every night, and I hated how much comfort that brought me. It reminded me of being a young kid again.
“This sucks,” I cried into her shoulder. Daniel had called her and told her we were coming, but I wasn’t sure she knew why we were. But that was the thing about my mom. She didn’t tell me it would be okay. She didn’t rush me. She held me, rubbing slow circles into my back the way she had when I was little and skinned my knees on the driveway. This was the older version of my mom I remembered and missed post stroke.
Another wave of tears hit me.
