The Rise of Emery James (22 page)

Cole pulls a set of keys from his pocket as we approach the front door and I wait quietly until he opens it up. My eyes close, the nerves getting the best of me. I pause in the doorway until I hear Cole's quiet voice in my ear, "I'm right beside you."

My eyes open and I step inside the familiar house. The first thing that strikes me is that I don't recognize any of the furniture. Obviously, Nana's stuff is gone and replaced with this new family’s belongings. I expected that of course, but it still feels strange. It's enough to make me consider walking back out. But now that I'm here, there is a part of me that wants to keep going.

Cole lets me walk ahead and I move slowly though the house. If I look hard enough I can see through the new furnishings and see the curtains that Nana had sewn or the old coffee table that my grandpa had made out in the garage. I can still feel her here, like she’s wrapping herself around me. The sensation is so vivid and I can't help but close my eyes and breathe her in.

Cole follows me through the house. He doesn't say much and he doesn't rush me through. It's like he's here for support should I need it, but he's letting me control this moment.

I never would have come here on my own. I never would have even considered it, especially with some new family living here. Honestly, the thought of it would have terrified me. But now that I'm here I can feel all of the memories from my childhood and instead of the painful wave I had expected it's almost like they have all come to life around me and it gives me the opportunity to really preserve them. It's like they've been living here among these walls waiting for me to come back and reclaim them.

So many of the things that I didn't think I would ever remember in detail have now been painted with vivid color and I know that I'll be able to hold on to them a little closer now.

I feel the tears prick my eyes as I move through the old house, visions of watching cartoons on the living room floor or sitting on the barstool helping Nana cook or dancing out back in the sprinklers while trying to fight off the summer heat. It's all here, playing like a movie of my life. I can hear the laughter. I can feel the love all around me and as I turn to face Cole, the tears streaming down my face, I can't find the words to thank him for this moment.

His eyes flash with worry when he sees my tears, but I shake my head, trying to let him know that I'm okay. That I'm more than okay. I move to him and press myself against his chest. His strong arms encircle me as he holds me tight against him.

"Thank you," I finally choke out. His hands slide into my hair and his fingers rub my neck in an act of comfort.

"You're welcome." We stand in silence holding on to each other and I am overwhelmed by my emotions. Not just for the gift of being here and taking back what I'd so carelessly pushed aside, but for this man who has been here beside me every step of the way as I try to find myself. He believes in me in ways I didn't even believe myself. He gives me courage and my heart feels so full that I wouldn't be surprised if it just burst wide open.

I don't say much on the ride back to the house. I'm too busy sorting through everything. The shock of emotion and memory has left me feeling exposed and I work to balance it all out. Cole leaves me alone with my thoughts, he doesn't push me to talk about it or ask me how I’m feeling about it. But then again, Cole doesn't have to ask me how I feel. He just knows. He's always just known. Sometimes it feels like he knows better than me.

We pull up to my place and he follows me inside and to the kitchen where I grab some water and hand him a bottle without asking if he wants it. He watches me as I take a long sip, letting it calm me.

Facing down demons is exhausting. I haven't felt this raw or exposed in a very long time. I've always avoided this feeling. But I can feel the change that it's making in me. I'm realizing that maybe I have to break down completely in order to build something stronger. So, for once it feels worth it. The pain leads to healing and I'm starting to understand that.

It doesn't make it easy. Being in that house today stirred up so much that trying to settle it all into its proper places is daunting. But I don't want to bury it like I used to. I want to feel it. I need to feel it. It's all part of the process.

"I'm proud of you," Cole says quietly. My eyes snap to his, surprised. "That wasn't an easy thing to do. I was nervous taking you there. Afraid it wouldn't help you the way that I wanted it to," he admits.

He's right. It was a risky move. But I'm so glad he pushed me to go. He always seems to know what I need.

"It was good for me. Thank you. I never would have gone there on my own."

"Em, you’re not alone. Not anymore. I want to be there for you through all of it." I look up into his dark eyes and the emotion there is fierce. I can't deny it. The pull I feel to him, I'm pretty sure that he feels it too. I just haven't figured out what to do with it.

There is a part of me that wants to give in. That kiss at the lake woke up feelings in me that I haven't felt in so long. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. It was like waking up from a deep sleep, disorienting and leaving me feeling a little unsteady.

Those feelings scare me. Not because I don't trust him with them, but because feeling them still makes me feel so guilty. Gabe may have been cheating on me for a good part of our marriage, but he was still my husband. I didn't take those vows lightly. Maybe if I'd confronted him more about his infidelity and we'd just divorced this would be easier. I'd be allowed to hate him then. But no, he took that away from me too. His death painted the whole thing with different colors. You can't hate a dead man, no matter his sins. At least that's how it feels. And giving into Cole feels a lot like being unfaithful.

But he's here, looking at me like I'm the most important thing in his world. He touches me with such genuine emotion that my heart wants to jump in, bruises and scars be damned. It’s clear that my heart already trusts him.

It's my brain that gives me the hang-up.

"I'm not sure I'll ever be the girl you remember," I say softly. He needs to know that. He could wait forever and not get back the Emery he knew back then. And as close and attached as I'm getting now, having him realize that later and then leave would gut me.

He reaches out and softly brushes his hand across my cheek, his eyes steady on my own. "No. But I'm really looking forward to the new girl that takes her place," he says.

I feel the tug of my heart. The pull. The want. Hell, the all-out need.

"Cole," I start. I don't know what to say. I want to believe in the girl he sees. The future he's so sure of. But I just don't know how.

He takes a step closer and the heat from his body causes my heart to beat faster against my chest. "I need you to be honest with me, Em." His voice is rough gravel.

I don't answer him, afraid of what he's about to ask of me.

"Do you feel this? Do you feel what I'm feeling? Tell me I'm not alone here." His voice is low, raspy and it slides over my skin like a caress. My eyes lock on his handsome face and I want to tell him that he's wrong. I want to shut him down and deny everything he's asking me. It would save us both. But I know that he would see right through my lies.

"It's not that easy," I say softly.

"Sure it is," he counters, his breath warm on my skin.

"I'm still a mess," I admit. He studies me and I feel like he is seeing straight past my words and directly to the unsteady beat of my heart.

"I can be patient," he smiles.

"Why would you want to be?" I ask.

"Why?" My heart thumps erratically at the confused expression that crosses his face and I shrug. "You can't see yourself anymore can you?" he asks quietly.

I don't know what to say. It's the way that he says it, with no judgment. His patience is more than I'm used to. His fingers wrap around a strand of my hair and he twirls it thoughtfully, his gaze still locked on mine, refusing to let me look away.

"I'm going to show you. I'm going to show you what I see, what I've always seen. You don't have to be lost forever, Emery.”

I swallow hard, tears threatening to fill my eyes. I want to believe him. I want to believe that he really does see something in me that I'd long ago let go of.

"I do feel it," I say quietly. I see the smile that tugs at his lips and I swallow down the guilt that threatens at my admission. "I just don't know that I'm ready to feel it yet."

"I meant it when I said I could be patient," he says easily.

"I'm a mess," I say again.

"You're amazing. I'm not going to push you, Emery. I know this is hard. I know this whole thing is confusing and I know that you feel guilty. Moving on feels wrong and I get that. But this is your life, Em. You're still here. Still breathing. There is more to look forward to. That's all I'm saying."

I nod. I know he's right. Logically it all makes sense. It’s just a matter of fitting all of the emotions together so that
they
make sense. Fitting them together so that I am at peace with them.

"You'll wait for me?" I ask. I almost take it back, because I shouldn't ask him for such a thing.

"I'd wait forever," he says quietly. He leans in and brushes his lips to my cheek once and then up to the skin just below my ear. His warm breath sending goosebumps across my skin. "I'll do anything for you Emery James. I'll be everything you need."

Emery

HE'S GOTTEN IN THIS
habit of standing close to me. Of holding my gaze, brushing my skin with his fingers. It's all innocent enough, but it's still too much. It's turning my world sideways and I can't get a handle on any of it. We're supposed to be friends and we keep pushing the boundaries.

Admitting that there was something else beneath the surface, saying it out loud has upset our delicate balance. Not to mention that kiss at the lake. The kiss that still plays in my head during quiet moments, the one that finds its way into my dreams at night. I probably shouldn’t have kissed him. For every hour I spend with him I'm feeling a little less in control of my reactions. I know he knows this, I'm terrible at hiding it. Plus, he knows me better than almost everyone else. Everyone except maybe my dad.

I feel caught between two extremes. The old me vs the new me. Obligation vs anticipation. Loyalty vs freedom. The conversation we had nearly a week ago, the confessions that we made, have changed our dynamic. Shifted our axis and I'm having a hard time grasping it all.

On the one hand, Cole Bennett has become my safe place. My sounding board of sorts. Just having him around has me opening up and I don't even realize I'm doing it until it's over and I feel lighter. But it's becoming so much more than that.
He's
more than that. He makes me want things I shouldn't want. I catch myself thinking about him and it sends me into a spiral of guilt.

I'm married. I took vows.

I'm a widow.

I shouldn't feel anything other than sadness. Despair. Anger that he's gone. Anything, but what I'm feeling for this man who is taking care of me like I'm one of his most prized possessions.

Only, with Cole, it's not possession. It's genuine and that's the part that grabs every part of my heart and has me questioning everything. It has me wondering if I should pull back. What if I'm allowing myself to depend on him too much or worse, using him to fill some emptiness in me?

He promises to be patient. He says he’ll wait for me until I am ready. I think that scares me most of all. What if he waits and finds that I'm not what he wants.? Or worse, what if he finds out that he does? When he touches me my heart races. When his eyes lock on mine I forget to take a breath. He's being patient, but my heart isn't. It keeps trying to jump right in and I'm starting to think I'm going to follow it.

All of this thinking just confuses me more. How do you settle the war between what you are supposed to do and what you want to do? I wish there was a rulebook on how to navigate this kind of situation. How long do I grieve? Shit, that makes me sound like a horrible person. Like I'm counting down the days until I can let go of my widow title and just be happy again. I guess I am doing just that. And the fact that I am this soon after Gabe's death tells me that we'd faded from each other's lives long before the accident. I was holding on to a ghost long before he died. Maybe my grieving for him, for us, started years ago.

Still, no one else knows that. They'd just see me as some ungrateful harlot. Small towns don't always forgive so easily and I'm not ready to face the firing squad by having them think I'm jumping into Cole Bennett's bed so soon.

No. I need to put some space between us. We're getting too close and the lines are getting too blurry. It's best for us both to take some time in our own separate corners. We see each other every day. It's too much. It's too soon. He'll understand. Hell, he'll probably be relieved not to have to look after me all the time.

I'll have to tell him soon.

As soon as I find my courage.

As soon as the thought of not seeing him every day doesn't make me want to sink to the floor in a defeated slump.