Page 45

“You need to help her,” Collin demands. “Stop making her go through this.”

There’s pressure on my arm. A tight squeeze.

A sob cuts through the panic. A cry rising from so deep, it shocks the entire room.

“I can’t do this without you. You have to stay with me.”

I’m the one staring at nothing now. I haven’t been able to close my eyes since Emma went upstairs. I need to leave, but I can’t bring myself to move. I keep thinking about Emma’s face while she watched her mother sleep—creased with worry. Like she’s solely responsible for Rachel’s well-being.

That need to please is familiar. So is the self-blame. Like I asked for it. Rachel’s not harming Emma in the way Hal hurt me. But Emma’s been programmed to blame herself—probably in Weslyn over the past five years.

“What were you thinking?” my father yells. An open palm whacks the side of my head. My balance falters. “You know better. I’ve taught you better.”

Emma’s more worried about Rachel’s feelings, like she can somehow control the outcome. Asking me not to hurt her over and over again. Neither of us is that powerful.

Strong hands grip my shoulders, shaking me. “I’m not going to keep paying for world-class instructors if you’re not going to listen. He lets go, and I teeter backward. A crack of skull against stone. Blood tinting the pool red around me.

Have I ever seen them alone together? Emma escapes at every chance—to her room, to Evan’s or Sara’s, staying late at school. Rachel wants to convince her daughter of things that aren’t true so Emma will like her.

They’re lying to themselves because they’re so afraid of hurting each other. They’re terrified of being honest.

“Come back here, and I’ll kill you”

“Jonathan?” Rachel calls to me from her bedroom. “Are you still here?”

I snap back to the present. My eyes are glazed over and tight from not blinking for so long. “I’m here.”

Standing, I stretch out again, cramped from sleeping upright. Or not sleeping—staring into the morning sun. I take two steps at a time until I reach the landing and stop within her doorframe. I must’ve left the door open after carrying her to bed.

Rachel’s curled up with the covers tucked under her chin. “Do you hate me?”

I shake my head.

“You do, don’t you?”

“I don’t,” I assure her.

“I keep screwing up. I don’t mean to, but I still do.”

I let out a breath.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“With what?” I gently prod.

“Emma. You. My life. I keep trying to make it better. But only make it worse.”

I have nothing to say. How do I hold a person accountable for a life I don’t know enough about? But I am curious about the moment she realized Emma was in hell—and what she did to get her out. Is that why Emma’s here now?

Dammit. It’s none of my business. What am I doing? I need to stop getting sucked into their lives. I have no room to judge anyone after the choices I’ve made. It’s time to step away from this house before my involvement—or lack of—continues to make things worse for both of them.

“Get some rest. I have to go.” I turn back toward the stairs when I hear her cry out.

“Jonathan, I'm so sorry. I promise I’ll be better.” Her voice breaks when she begs. “Please, don’t leave me.” A sob escapes.

“I won’t leave.” My voice is emotionless. I have nothing in me to fight for or against. “I need to clear my head, okay? But I’ll come back tonight, and we’ll talk about it.” I don't hear what comes next. I shut the door behind me.

The air is crisp but not freezing. There’s still snow on the ground, but the icy patches have melted from the sidewalks. I breathe it in before getting into my truck. A group of kids are jumping from the park playscape into mounds of snow. Something Collin, Sadie and I would’ve done. My truck rolls to a stop by the curb. I need some fresh air.