Page 75 of Admittedly For Me
“You’re not asking. I’m telling that if you’re my future, then so is she.” My eyes sting as I try to find words. Emery is stepping up for me. Saying everything I need to hear. It’s overwhelming and everything I need.
“I’ll do what I can for Sophie.” Emery leans down and gently presses her lips to mine. “Are you staying tonight?”
“That wouldn’t set a good example right now. You have some serious talking to do tonight.” She’s right. “But”—she thinks for a brief moment before speaking again—“if I face my fear of flying again, I can stay a few more days to support you.”
“Emery, I love you. I don’t want to be away from you, but I think the drive back to Aspen is what your mind needs to process everything.” Her sharp inhale and tensing of her body tell me I’m right. “It’s okay.” Her eyes blink back tears as she nods. “I believe that you’ll return.”
“I will.” She lets her tears fall freely, dropping onto my arms holding her hips. “This is so hard to do.” Climbing off of me, she glances through the window. “I gotta go.” Standing, I engulf her in a tight hug as if it’s the last time I’ll ever see her. The squeeze of my heart is brutal, but I have to let her go.
“You are so strong, Emery Davis. I can’t wait to have you back in my arms.”
She wipes her teary cheeks, gives me a soft kiss on the lips, and I follow her down the steps to her car.
“Drive safe.” I can barely swallow.
“Always do.” She pulls away, and I say a silent prayer I will see her again.
Chapter22
Emery
“Didyou meet with the bank yet?” Josie’s voice through the speaker makes me feel a little less alone.
“This afternoon.” I feel giddy, yet I’m shaking with nerves. “I don’t know how I’m going to sleep tonight.” I force a laugh, hoping everything lines up the way I need it to.
“Come on, your game plan is golden, Em,” Josie encourages before falling quiet. “I have no doubt the bank and everyone else won’t say no. If they do, I know Emmett would be happy to help out.” Her hurt comes through the strain in her voice. Her billionaire ex-boyfriend––or not entirely ex––would be willing to help, no doubt. But I want to try to do this on my own.
“I know it hurts, Josie.” I relax into my chair overlooking the mountains of Aspen and listen to my other best friend go on about her broken heart. “You know that you also need to put yourself first.”
“Well, I had the bright idea to fake date him and then fall in love with him.” She huffs.
“He loves you too. Sometimes, things need to take a detour in order to get back together. It wrecked me leaving Beechwood Falls.” I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “I cried myself to sleep the first two nights back here in Aspen.” It’s now been five days, and thinking about life back home chokes me up.
“Then just go. The restaurant can cover your shifts,” Josie says, helping me understand her boyfriend Emmett’s point of view a lot more. Putting her first isn’t easy for him either.
“I have a therapy appointment soon, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow if I have time.” I glance at the clock. “I gave the restaurant my notice before I even arrived back here. But they’re counting on me to make sure the new chef is ready to take over.”
“Making me proud! Look at you go!” I swear I can hear her smile. “I’m glad you’re going all in with changing your life up. Though, I didn’t realize how deep your trauma went.”
“I hid it all too well. I want to make this work, and I miss home. This is what I need to do to in order to be confident in my next step in life.” My smile grows, knowing what I have been working my ass off with to accomplish it.
“I’m happy for you, Em.” Josie yawns. “Enjoy your therapy session. I’m off to bed.”
We hang up as silence takes over my apartment. My eyes pull to the bottle of wine I’m not even tempted to open. I’m not sure how I was so set in the routine of work, brunch with friends, and drinking the night away in bedrooms of different men. It spins my brain, how set in my ways of coping I had been. This week has been non-stop with busting my ass at work, business meetings, and getting things in order for the future I want most. My phone dings as I open my laptop to sign into therapy.
Ian: Miss you. Call tonight if you aren’t working late. I’m still hard thinking about our video chat from last night.
I feel my cheeks heat as I replay how hot things got. Watching him stroke himself as I got myself off has only fueled me to keep going forward. He demanded I called out his name for Aspen to hear and I was more than happy to do so.
Me: I have work quite late tonight. I’ll give you a call in an hour or so. Xo
Ian: Sounds good my daisy girl. I love you.
My thumbs hover over the letters I’ll one day be able to type. The ones I feel, but haven’t been able to speak out loud. I want to go back to Beechwood Falls and spend my life waking up in Ian’s arms. But holding everything in, and pretending life is dandy, won’t help me in the long run. My heart races as I stare at my laptop, knowing the next hour isn’t going to be easy. The past three therapy sessions have had me wanting to call into work and forget the world. But I’ve already been able to acknowledge my faults and am not running to alcohol or men like I used to. Work and the people I care about are counting on me.I’mcounting on me.
Today I’m still diving into the fact that I don’t have many happy memories past the age of twelve. My needs were met in the sense of having a warm house, food, and the basics, but my parents took time with me for granted. Or maybe I was unwanted. Sophie has been playing on my mind, and I can’t help want to reach out to her. To be what she needs. I should be thankful for the happy childhood and just accept that they did their best. My mother would have flipped if she found out I had been hanging out at the lake at Sophie’s age. She cared in that sense. There’s a lot going through my brain and my eyes tear up before the video call with my therapist begins. I take a deep breath and try to pull myself together so she doesn’t watch me cry for the first fifteen minutes, like the last appointment. But today feels like it’s going to be the same, and that’s okay.
After ten minutes of the call are spent in tears, I manage to get through the next hour talking about my childhood. Except I don’t feel any lighter this time.