Razorblade Kisses(107)

“You’re letting him win,” Noah called to her back.

She squeezed her eyes shut at the truth in what he’d said. Why did he have to come here and make her face all these things she’d run from? Why did he always have to fix her? He was an asshole for being right. Somewhere in the pit of her stomach she could feel the pain of it all, and the hope bubbling to the surface.

She walked up the stairs behind the bar to her studio apartment. Scanning the room, she took in her place. It was sparse. There was a single bed in the middle of the room, a bookcase full of all the books she’d read since she’d been here. That’s all there was for her, work and reading. The kitchen was negligible and she hardly ate there anyway. There was a small table where her computer sat; she’d write when she was feeling extremely low.

She fell on the bed and worked up the courage to open the envelope that Noah had given her. She pushed herself up and ripped it open. Her heart stopped beating. Tim’s handwriting made her long to be in the same room with him, for him to run his thumb over her bottom lip.


Emery,

That’s right, I know your real name now. I know everything and I don’t have words to tell you how sorry I am that you had to go through that, but I need you to come home. I know you may not think of this as your home, but it is because I’ve made it your home.

Yes, I’m hurt that you lied to me, but I get it. Come home.

Yes, I know your secrets and I don’t care. Come home.

Yes, I’m crushed you just left me here. Come home.

I hope I’ve said the words that can get through your pain. Come home.

I love you and miss you. Every day, Em. Every day I miss your lips on mine, your hands on me, and your smell. I miss your smell. I even miss your nasty coffee. Your laugh haunts my dreams. I wake up thinking you’ve come back to me. Please come back. We’ll have to meet each other again, but I’m pretty sure I know you. The real you. I don’t give a shit about a name.

Lucas misses you too.

He made it.

I thought you should know.

Tim

She blinked rapidly at the paper, tears falling freely, and then re-read the last three lines seven times to make sure she was seeing clearly. Holy shit! Lucas is alive? Her brain hit against the walls of her head like bumper cars, jarring her with every hit. Lucas. He’d lost so much and now he’d lost her because she was too stupid to let anyone talk to her after she left Savannah. Or in Savannah, for that matter.

She was so sure he’d been in that body bag. An unfamiliar feeling started spreading through her limbs and into her heart. It was hope. She shook her head. She didn’t want hope. If you have hope, it will crush you and leave you bleeding on the floor with the reality of it all. Hope will end you.

She blinked the tears away and unfolded the next piece of paper. It was typed.


Em,

I hate you so much right now. You are being a selfish asshole. Fuck you.

Sorry, I really had to get that out of the way. Listen. You’ve made a huge mistake and that’s okay. I’ll forgive you, but I can’t speak for Tim or Lucas. Because you’re an asshole and wouldn’t talk to me for the past six months, I had to employ the one person who I thought may get you to change your mind. Oh and also, I would’ve told you Lucas made it months ago, but I’m not posting that shit on a fake Facebook page.

Derrick and I are getting married and if you’re not there I will never forgive you, asshole.

I love you,

Rachel

Something broke inside her and released all the emotions she’d put into tiny boxes all over her mind. Emery sobbed with horror and grief at what she’d missed and what she’d done. She looked at these two letters in awe. Although she knew she didn’t deserve them, they didn’t deserve to be treated like she’d treated them. She was a horrible, horrible person…who could change. She could change. Emery had seen herself change many times in her short life and she would change for them. She would change for Tim, and Lucas, but most of all Rachel, because she’d saved Emery’s life countless times. She owed Rachel.

She was an asshole.

She was a liar.

She was heartbroken, which meant she still had a heart.

She was leaving.





CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Apologies



Emery drove north on 95, full of confusion and anticipation. Her stomach felt like she’d eaten something spoiled, it was flipping and in her throat. She pulled out her phone, the one she bought all those months ago and hadn’t used, and dialed a number she’d known by heart for five years.

“Hello?” a sleepy voice answered the phone.

“Rachel, it’s me.”

“Emery?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry to wake you.” Comfort crept into Emery, making her smile at the fact it was 10:00 am and she’d woken her friend.