CHAPTER152
I finally get home to my apartment in the early hours; Jake had two cars awaiting us at the airfield, so I didn’t need to share the journey to his apartment first. This was a new move for him as we’ve always shared cars coming home, so this spoke volumes about what he’s feeling about me.
He never looked at me once in our entire trip. At the cars, he just guided Marissa into his and departed, leaving me standing in the dark with Jefferson, empty and broken hearted, aching to have him say something, anything to me. I almost burst into tears right then and there.
Sarah is in bed, and I know without checking that Marcus is here too; I can sense his presence in the house and smell his scent lingering in the air, cheap cologne and deodorant. The thought makes me uptight, but I ignore it and go to bed, taking sleeping pills before I lie down. I’m going to need them; my head is so full that I know if I even try and extract one tiny piece it will unravel like a chaos of rubber bands. I’ll unravel. And I’m so done with that kind of pain and turmoil.
* * *
I wake to the sounds of Sarah making breakfast, my head groggy, but at least I managed to sleep, a dreamless black haze with the usual night tremors waking me early, before I finally dozed off again. The aftereffects of the pills are not great; my mouth is fuzzy, and I feel hungover. I venture through to the kitchen in my robe for a drink and see her moving from stove to countertop effortlessly. The kitchen has always been her territory, and it shows in her graceful, easy movements. She seems different this morning though, tired and uptight.
“Hey,” I breathe; she startles at my voice then breaks into a warm smile. I notice the lackluster of her normally bright eyes, causing a hint of concern to unravel inside of me.
“Hey, stranger. God, I love your hair. When did you do that?” she gushes at me, the tight look dissipating quickly. I automatically reach up, tugging on a strand self-consciously, and shrug.
“Felt like a change,” I respond emptily.
Has it really been that long since we have been in each other’s company?
“You look so different, so un-Emma,” she giggles and returns to the stove. “You hungry?” She goes back to the batter she has mixed up and drops some in the oiled pan.
“Not really,” I answer tightly. How can I tolerate food when my insides are violently rejecting life? I notice the pile of letters on the counter and sit on the bar stool to rake through them, giving myself a task; I flinch at the ones addressed to Marcus and cast her an accusatory look.
“So, were you going to inform me I had a new roommate?” I utter quietly.
Sarah pauses for a second, the whisk stilling then resuming. “I really didn’t think you would care, Emma. You’re never here. I get so lonely.” Her voice wavers, and I’m hit by sudden guilt at her admission.
Lonely? Sarah?
The bright and sassy soul of the party, surrounded by her chef friends and busywork schedule? Since when? I look her up and down, my mind racing over recent months, pushing further back. I guess I have never realized, I’m always focusing on my own turmoil and keeping her at arm’s length.
I regret it instantly, as though seeing it for the first time from a different viewpoint. I’ve left her alone so many times, assuming that she has everything she needs, that she didn’t need me. No one else ever did, so I never gave her a second thought.
“I’m sorry, Sarah,” I say, my voice breaking unexpectedly, my emotions just tumbling out from a deep recess as the walls start to crumble. Her head snaps around and she stares at me in confusion. Overwhelming shame and guilt hit me hard in the gut, almost winding me, and I struggle to inhale. “I’m sorry that I’ve been such a shit friend, and a worse roommate.” The dam I’ve been holding back all night bursts. Such a tiny reason to fall apart, yet here it is, that extra nudge on my vulnerable, emotional bubble, and it pops. Magnificently.
Truly losing the plot, Emma!
“Hey, hey, shhhh.” She drops her pan and ladle and rushes to my side, cradling me awkwardly in her arms as the tears start to course down my face in a wild torrent.
“Where the hell has this come from, and what have you done with Emma?” she laughs, an anxious edge in her voice as her breath warms my hair; it pains me even more as it reminds me of him.
“I’m sorry,” I sniff and try to reel myself back in, embarrassed by my behavior but relieved in a way. Sarah has never seen this side of me, and maybe it’s time I let her in on the fact that I’m not the strong, capable shell of a person she has known for so long, after all; I am so tired of pretending. “I’m really sorry, Sarah,” I stutter incoherently, my face damp and dripping.
“Emma, you’re scaring me. This is so not you. To be honest, I don’t actually know how to react.” There’s a definite edge of wariness. She’s still holding me awkwardly because we’ve never hugged before, so this is monumental.
I stand up, pushing the bar stool aside, and wrap my arms around her fully, giving her the most Jake-like bear hug that I can muster. I did learn from the best after all. At least he taught me that. This girl has been there for me in times when I had no one, and now I’ve pushed her so far into the background of my life, in a bid to forget who I was, that I forgot about her and how much she used to mean to me. I’ve left her floundering in my past and never realized she needed a place in my present. She squeezes me back, the hesitation in her falling away, and she embraces me with equal vehemence. We stand this way for minutes.
When we part, there are tears in her eyes too, confused, unsure, but overwhelmed mostly, and she keeps my hand in hers.
“I’m different, Sarah. Things … Jake … he’s changed everything.” I smile through my pain, unable to explain. He has no idea what he’s done to me, these months, these agonizing few days. He’s opened a dam and I can’t pull the flood waters back. He’s broken me open and let the parts of me that I tried to contain leak out everywhere, the cracks growing so wide that I can never piece them back together. He’s made me face emotions I have always been so afraid of feeling, or letting other people see. I was selfish. Sarah deserves to see how much I care for her, have always cared for her.
“Emma, I don’t know what he’s done or how, but I would really love to give him one huge kiss right now.” She grins at me, her eyes full of love and sincerity, but I only crumble again. Catching my sob in my throat, I begin to pour my soul out through my eyes as the ferocity of that mess hits me full whack.
“He’s made me fall in love with him,” I sob, “But he doesn’t love me back.” I cry at my own admission, broken by it, and fall into the arms of my long-forgotten best friend. Ready to unload the burden, finally."
