Just that small effort exhausted her and she crawled back into bed without a word to either of them.
“Em.” Ashlyn stepped forward, but Mason stopped her with a hand on her arm.
They exchanged a look Em couldn’t begin to understand and then Mason came inside alone, shutting the door behind him.
“Em?” He sat at the foot of the bed. “What’s going on? Ashlyn called me.”
“She called you?” Her throat was sore.
“She’s worried about you. Frankly, so am I. She said you won’t come out of this room. You won’t talk to her. You’re not even eating. We just want to help, Em.”
Em sighed. They were her friends. She couldn’t have friends like them—good, caring friends—and expect them to let her keep those walls up while she was hurting behind them.
“I know I screwed up with you. And you have no idea how sorry I am about that. But . . . will you talk to me?”
Exhausted tears welled up in her eyes. “I can’t.”
“It’s about him, though, isn’t it?”
For a brief moment Em thought Ashlyn had told him about more than just her self-exile from the world, and the betrayal bit deep before she realized it wasn’t him Mason was talking about. It was Jay.
“You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”
“I always will be. I don’t know how to stop. I’m so sorry, Mason. I never should have . . .” Em took a deep breath, preparing to admit the ugly truth, “used you like that.”
“Hey. Em.” Mason was shaking his head at her, but he didn’t look angry or upset like she’d expected. “I’m not an idiot. I knew from the start I wasn’t the one you really wanted. All I hoped for was a chance, and you gave me that. So, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I just hope he realizes what a lucky son of a bitch he is before he hurts you any more.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that other than to allow the tears that had been building in her eyes to slip down her cheeks. She didn’t deserve these kinds of people in her life.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Mason scooted closer and she didn’t fight it when he gathered her in his arms. “Shh. It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be all right. But you can’t lock yourself away like this. I know things may seem hard right now, but you can’t give up on the rest of us. We still care about you. We’re not going to let you waste away in here. So, up you go.”
Before Em knew what was happening, Mason had her on her feet and headed for the door. He handed over control to Ashlyn in the hallway, who steered her into the bathroom.
“Do you need my help with this or not? Because you are taking a shower. You’re starting to stink up my guest room, girl.”
“Ashlyn, I—”
“I’m messing with you. Not about the shower, though. I’ll throw you in there fully clothed if I have to. And then you’re going to eat the spectacular breakfast I slaved over for you so hurry up before it gets cold.”
The hot water did wonders for Em’s body—inside and out—rinsing away the grime and soothing the aches. If she’d known it would feel that good, she would have locked herself in the bathroom instead of the bedroom.
All too soon a knock sounded on the door and she forced herself to shut off the water. They were waiting for her, and she’d already made them wait long enough.
Wrapping herself up in a towel, Em stepped out of the tub to find jeans and a sweater folded neatly on the toilet lid. Evidently, she couldn’t be trusted to even dress herself. Not that she could blame them after her performance over the past few days. The jeans felt scratchy and stiff after so much time spent in sweats, but simply wearing normal clothes again helped to pull her a little further back into the real world.
With a steadying breath, she chanced a glimpse in the mirror and cringed. Her eyes were puffy and bright red to match the raw, flaky skin on her cheeks. Despite the amount of sleep she’d been getting, dark circles made her look exhausted, and her cheeks looked hollowed out. She looked like crap.
Running a brush through her damp hair and tying it back in a braid, Em shuffled out into the kitchen where she found Ashlyn and Mason seated at the breakfast bar, surrounded by tin dishes filled with every kind of breakfast food imaginable. Sausages, bacon, pancakes, scrambled eggs, toast, and waffles made the house smell fantastic and her stomach gave a loud grumble.
“Slaved over it, huh?” Em eyed the takeout bags in the trash and couldn’t stop the small smile from curving her lips.
“Yeah, well, I drove, and ordered, and lugged it all back here.”