Chapter 29 You Win Some, You Lose Some
Before the kiss, Byron looked at her like he was a predator who finally caught her, but now he was the prey, helpless in her power.
“You’re never quite sure about me,” he said, “but can you at least be sure of how I feel about you?”
Emily had not quite recovered from the kiss, and she was almost dazed enough to give in to whatever he wanted, as long as she could experience something like it again.
“That was amazing,” she said, “but I think you’re asking if we can make our relationship real... and I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“It felt real to me,” Byron said, and she caught the look of despair haunting his eyes. “You still don’t trust me?”
“I do,” she said, “You’ve shown me that you care, but it’s you I’m worried about.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
They stepped off the bridge, away from the tumult of the water, and sat back against a giant boulder.
“Byron, you try to hide it, but I know there is something troubling you,” Emily said. She never expected to have the courage to talk to him about it. The last time she tried, on the night they first met, he put up an impassible barrier and disappeared into his thoughts and memories. But now she knew how passionately he felt, she wanted to fight for him, even if it meant fighting him.
“Ever since I met you,” Byron said, “I’ve felt it all the things that troubled me fade away.”
“But they’re still there,” Emily argued, “I can feel it, and you must feel it too. You might feel happy in the moment, but when something unexpected happens, you’re an emotional mess. You need to deal with those feelings.”
“Thanks, Dr. Freud,” he muttered.
Emily feared he was shutting her out again, like the last time.
“I’m not saying I understand exactly what you’re going through,” she said, “but all I know is you won’t be truly happy until you deal with it.”
“What do you want me to say?” he asked, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “My father is a douchebag, and my parents’ marriage fell apart, so I’m scarred for life? There, psychoanalysis completed.”
“That might be part of it,” Emily said cautiously, “but you don’t have to be scarred for life.”
He stood up with a sigh, ready to begin the long walk back. The look he gave her was filled with pain that she wished she could take away, but she was powerless to do it.
“If you’re trying to change me,” he said, “it’s not going to happen.”
They were both frustrated and tense as they returned to the car and drove back to the city. The kiss changed everything. If being friends was tricky before, it would be nearly impossible now. Emily knew that if they were to see each other again, one of them had to give in.
When Emily got home, more bad news awaited. She read new messages from the parents of two more students who wouldn’t be taking classes with her anymore. Most of her students were young children, but there was also Diane, a retired lady who was due to come over that evening for a lesson. Emily hoped at least she would show up.
Luckily, Diane was on time, and gave no signs of being bothered by Emily’s notoriety in the media.
They started the lesson as usual, and Emily felt more relaxed, losing herself in the art and the intricacies of her student’s progress. No one even mentioned the article.
Only when she was leaving, Diane gave her a gentle smile and said, “You’re going to be all right, dear. Don’t ever be bothered by what people say.”
The next day, Emily received an email from Byron saying that her article was published in the Bulletin.
When she went to the newspaper’s website, the uplifting feeling was amazing. She could read her own words in print. Her voice was heard, and that alone was reassuring. Then she saw the comments of everyone who supported her. There were a few comments here and there calling her all sorts of names, but most of the people responding to the article applauded her for telling her story and wished her well.
She emailed Byron to thank him for helping get the story published. Usually, he would send a message inviting her to come over, but this day he didn’t.
Emily said goodbye to her parents, who were leaving town that day. Even though her brother Nick moved into her apartment, he didn’t seem in the mood to hang out and went into his new room at once to compose some of his songs. It was a lonely evening.
