Unbroken
Page 52
I cringe. The worst part is, he’s right. He’s just asking me the same question I’ve been asking myself, ever since I woke up alone this morning. Why isn’t Emerson here with me?
“It’s OK,” Daniel says quickly, as if he can tell his innocent questions have paralyzed me. “Let’s get started loading things onto the truck. You have boxes of stuff you want to take back to the city?”
I nod, finally finding my voice. “I marked everything, keep or trash, or donate.”
“That’s more like it,” Daniel gives me an affectionate smile. “I’ll go take a look in the kitchen.”
He leaves me alone, swathed in the warm blanket and my own wretched emotions. I know I must look like a stranger to him: the girl who always had a plan, fallen apart so completely.
But he’s right. This isn’t like me, to sit around. I need to do something—it doesn’t matter what, just something to stop me crumpling here in the aching grip of old memories. Before I can reconsider, I grab a roll of trash bags and a couple of packing cartons, and climb the stairs to the first floor. I walk briskly down the hallway, and push open the door to my mom’s room. It sits, quiet in the afternoon, a faint sheen of dust covering every surface. Untouched for years.
I take a deep breath, then I set to work: clearing the bedside tables and emptying the dresser; packing the pink rose quilt away, and stuffing old clothing into the refuse sacks. I can hear Daniel banging around downstairs, and see glimpses of him as he hauls stuff out to the truck, but he doesn’t come bother me up here, and I don’t ask for help.
This, I have to do alone.
A life is dismantled under my hands, years of memories. I work until the room is stripped bare and I’m standing in the place where my mom used to live. But she’s not here anymore. Somehow, the ghosts have been packed quietly away.
“Goodbye, mom,” I whisper softly.
I hear the sound of an engine outside, and check out the window to see if Daniel is taking the first load out to Goodwill. But instead, I see Emerson’s truck pull in across the driveway.
I freeze, watching with my heart in my throat as he climbs down, slamming the door. The sky is overcast now, grey clouds blowing in fast from the ocean as Emerson strides towards the house.
Daniel goes out to meet him, and through the open window, I can hear every word.
“Where is she?” Emerson demands. He’s wearing the same clothes from last night, but rumpled and disheveled now, as if he just threw them on in the morning when he left.
When he ran out on you.
I know I should hate him right now, but looking down through the window, my stomach twists with longing. To have those muscular arms around me, feel the weight of his solid torso bearing down on me.
Emerson makes to move towards the porch, but Daniel blocks his way. “Woah,” Daniel puts his hands up. “Back off. You’re not coming in.”
Even from up here, I can see Emerson’s whole body tense. “Who the f**k are you?”
“A friend.” Daniel stands firm. “And you don’t just get to show up when it suits you. She’s not in a state to talk right now, she’ll let you know if she wants to see you.”
There’s a pause, then Emerson gives a short, bitter laugh. “It’s you, isn’t it?” he says. “The boyfriend. You think you can come take her back with you, is that it?” He backs up and yells again, “Jules, where are you?”
Emerson glances up at the house.
I duck back, out of the window, my heart pounding like crazy in my ears. But it’s too late. He’s seen me.
“Jules?” Emerson’s voice yells up. “Get down here, I need to talk to you!”
My pulse races. I hear Daniel’s voice, low and calm. “I told you, you need to leave her alone right now.”
“Get out of my f**king way!” Emerson’s voice is threatening, and I don’t think for a minute he won’t follow through.
Shit.
I waver another moment, hidden in the shadows of the room, then race for the stairs. I thunder downstairs, breathless, and burst out of the front door onto the porch just in time to see Emerson take a swing at Daniel, his fist connecting in a sharp right hook that sends Daniel stumbling back on the lawn.
“Emerson!” I scream in panic, tearing the screen door open. “Stop it!”
But Emerson ignores me. He lunges forwards, grabbing at the front of Daniel’s shirt, but this time, Daniel is ready for him. He bends over and slams his head into Emerson’s stomach, getting him in a wrestling hold and pulling him to the ground.
I race over. “Stop it, both of you!” I cry, desperate. “Please!” But they ignore me, rolling on the ground, grappling for the upper hand. Daniel was on the wrestling team for years, but his finesse is nothing compared to Emerson’s brute power. His powerful back muscles ripple as he easily evades Daniel’s pin and flips on top.
“You should have stayed away!” Emerson grounds out. I watch, horrified, as he lands another ugly punch in Daniel’s stomach, pinning him down and raising his fist again ready to smash it in Daniel’s face. “She’ll never be yours!”
“Emerson!” I scream, lunging forwards. I launch myself at him, grasping on tight to pin his arms down, but Emerson shakes me off. I stumble back, tripping on the uneven lawn, and fall to the ground.
My head hits with a painful crack, and I cry out.
In an instant, Emerson releases Daniel and falls to his knees at my side. “Jules!” He gasps, cradling me, “Fuck, I’m sorry, are you OK?”
“It’s OK,” Daniel says quickly, as if he can tell his innocent questions have paralyzed me. “Let’s get started loading things onto the truck. You have boxes of stuff you want to take back to the city?”
I nod, finally finding my voice. “I marked everything, keep or trash, or donate.”
“That’s more like it,” Daniel gives me an affectionate smile. “I’ll go take a look in the kitchen.”
He leaves me alone, swathed in the warm blanket and my own wretched emotions. I know I must look like a stranger to him: the girl who always had a plan, fallen apart so completely.
But he’s right. This isn’t like me, to sit around. I need to do something—it doesn’t matter what, just something to stop me crumpling here in the aching grip of old memories. Before I can reconsider, I grab a roll of trash bags and a couple of packing cartons, and climb the stairs to the first floor. I walk briskly down the hallway, and push open the door to my mom’s room. It sits, quiet in the afternoon, a faint sheen of dust covering every surface. Untouched for years.
I take a deep breath, then I set to work: clearing the bedside tables and emptying the dresser; packing the pink rose quilt away, and stuffing old clothing into the refuse sacks. I can hear Daniel banging around downstairs, and see glimpses of him as he hauls stuff out to the truck, but he doesn’t come bother me up here, and I don’t ask for help.
This, I have to do alone.
A life is dismantled under my hands, years of memories. I work until the room is stripped bare and I’m standing in the place where my mom used to live. But she’s not here anymore. Somehow, the ghosts have been packed quietly away.
“Goodbye, mom,” I whisper softly.
I hear the sound of an engine outside, and check out the window to see if Daniel is taking the first load out to Goodwill. But instead, I see Emerson’s truck pull in across the driveway.
I freeze, watching with my heart in my throat as he climbs down, slamming the door. The sky is overcast now, grey clouds blowing in fast from the ocean as Emerson strides towards the house.
Daniel goes out to meet him, and through the open window, I can hear every word.
“Where is she?” Emerson demands. He’s wearing the same clothes from last night, but rumpled and disheveled now, as if he just threw them on in the morning when he left.
When he ran out on you.
I know I should hate him right now, but looking down through the window, my stomach twists with longing. To have those muscular arms around me, feel the weight of his solid torso bearing down on me.
Emerson makes to move towards the porch, but Daniel blocks his way. “Woah,” Daniel puts his hands up. “Back off. You’re not coming in.”
Even from up here, I can see Emerson’s whole body tense. “Who the f**k are you?”
“A friend.” Daniel stands firm. “And you don’t just get to show up when it suits you. She’s not in a state to talk right now, she’ll let you know if she wants to see you.”
There’s a pause, then Emerson gives a short, bitter laugh. “It’s you, isn’t it?” he says. “The boyfriend. You think you can come take her back with you, is that it?” He backs up and yells again, “Jules, where are you?”
Emerson glances up at the house.
I duck back, out of the window, my heart pounding like crazy in my ears. But it’s too late. He’s seen me.
“Jules?” Emerson’s voice yells up. “Get down here, I need to talk to you!”
My pulse races. I hear Daniel’s voice, low and calm. “I told you, you need to leave her alone right now.”
“Get out of my f**king way!” Emerson’s voice is threatening, and I don’t think for a minute he won’t follow through.
Shit.
I waver another moment, hidden in the shadows of the room, then race for the stairs. I thunder downstairs, breathless, and burst out of the front door onto the porch just in time to see Emerson take a swing at Daniel, his fist connecting in a sharp right hook that sends Daniel stumbling back on the lawn.
“Emerson!” I scream in panic, tearing the screen door open. “Stop it!”
But Emerson ignores me. He lunges forwards, grabbing at the front of Daniel’s shirt, but this time, Daniel is ready for him. He bends over and slams his head into Emerson’s stomach, getting him in a wrestling hold and pulling him to the ground.
I race over. “Stop it, both of you!” I cry, desperate. “Please!” But they ignore me, rolling on the ground, grappling for the upper hand. Daniel was on the wrestling team for years, but his finesse is nothing compared to Emerson’s brute power. His powerful back muscles ripple as he easily evades Daniel’s pin and flips on top.
“You should have stayed away!” Emerson grounds out. I watch, horrified, as he lands another ugly punch in Daniel’s stomach, pinning him down and raising his fist again ready to smash it in Daniel’s face. “She’ll never be yours!”
“Emerson!” I scream, lunging forwards. I launch myself at him, grasping on tight to pin his arms down, but Emerson shakes me off. I stumble back, tripping on the uneven lawn, and fall to the ground.
My head hits with a painful crack, and I cry out.
In an instant, Emerson releases Daniel and falls to his knees at my side. “Jules!” He gasps, cradling me, “Fuck, I’m sorry, are you OK?”
