I’d give up anything to do this every single day.
Nothing about that thought made me feel good. It wasn’t a relief. I didn’t feel at peace as the truth of it seeped through me. My bones went ice cold under my skin. My hands started trembling, and I turned my face into Emmett’s broad chest and fought against a crashing, snarling wave of absolute panic.
It was too big, too much, too soon.
“What are we doing, Emmett?” I whispered.
When he didn’t answer immediately, I knew he wasn’t oblivious to the deep root of my question. Maybe he didn’t know about the thousand pounds of pressure on my chest or the tightening of my throat, but he was aware enough to hear the tenuous thread in my voice.
“Will you look at me?” he said quietly.
I pinched my eyes shut. No. I didn’t want to look at him. I was terrified of the way he would be looking at me, and somewhere, deep down, I knew this was coming from the moment he led me out onto the dance floor.
It was that foundation shifting that I’d felt, and we’d never managed to fix it or address that it happened at all.
Slowly, I sat up, turning my back to the masterpiece in the sky.
His eyes were wary, and I couldn’t blame him. He drew a thumb over the furrow in my brow. “Tell me what’s happening up here?”
“I-I’m freaking out a little bit,” I admitted. My fingers knotted together, a tight grip to keep them from shaking.
“Okay,” he said. “Because it feels … big, right?”
I nodded, my eyes filling immediately.
“The biggest,” I whispered.
“Adaline.” He cupped my face. “We can do this.”
I exhaled a tremulous laugh. “It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is,” he said with complete confidence. “We can talk every day. FaceTime and chat and I don’t care if I have to buy a fucking plane to be able to see you every week.”
My stomach trembled. “Emmett, stop,” I said. “I can’t leave right now.”
“I know.” He coasted his hands up my arms. “And I know Nick made you feel like you couldn’t have your life and his. But I’m not going to ask you to sacrifice the things that are important to you.”
I shook my head. “This isn’t about Nick.”
“It was at first,” he said. “Don’t tell me it wasn’t.”
“At first, yes.” I let out a slow breath, trying to quell the rising panic. “I’d only been single for six weeks then, Emmett. The thought of diving right back into that life did not appeal to me, and I think you can understand why.”
“I did. I do,” he amended. “But you and I are different. We can do this.”
I was off the couch before I realized it. “No, we can’t.”
His jaw clenched, Emmett’s immediate tell that he wasn’t sure how to proceed.
“I know what your life is like,” I said. “I’ve lived it, and this isn’t about Nick. Sometimes your priorities don’t line up with what someone else wants or feels. Hell, what I want or feel. And you, of all people, should understand that. You felt like you needed to make a choice once too.”
He slicked his tongue over his teeth and regarded me cautiously. “Because five years ago, I didn’t guess we’d end up here? You said you didn’t hold that against me.”
“I don’t.”
“And you’re not feeling exactly what I’m feeling?” he asked, a challenging set to his jaw.