Page 193 of Don't Leave Me

I smiled immediately. If I wasn’t in deep before, I was now at the very epicenter, in the deepest part where there was no way out; I was in a black hole.

“We’re great,” I responded, then could feel the bruise on my leg from three nights prior as I rested my hand atop it.

“I have a bunch of good pictures and videos from the party that I need to send you. And of you two dancing at the end of the night,” she put her hand up to her chest and looked at me with gooey eyes. “It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled as I looked down at my hands. “It was a great night,” I said with a happy sigh.

“There’s this thrift store I want to show you near here too. They always have thecuteststuff,” Emily went on, her mind all over the place, not unlike mine.

“Sounds good,” I replied, half paying attention as I looked over at one of Adam’s guitars. “Hey, have you heard any more of the guys’ songs?” I inquired.

Emily pulled up tight black jeans to her waist and nodded, almost out of breath. “Yeah. A few of them. Haven’t you?”

I shook my head. “Jack said he wrote them about me when I kept going back to Michael.”

Emily put her hands to her hips. “He wrote themallabout you?” she asked with a worried look on her face.

My eyes widened.Uh oh.

“That’s what he said,” I shrugged.

Emily bit her lip and stared at me for a moment. “I only really remember one of them, it’s like their best one. It sounded pretty dark…the lyrics, I mean.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I was afraid to ask any more questions.

“But if he wrote them before you guys got together, then…I mean, I understand. He was hurt before,” she shrugged, going back to her outfit.

“Yeah,” my voice trailed off as I watched her pull on some black boots.

“I mean, how many love songs are there in rock? I’m sure that doesn’t sell well,” she went on with a laugh, probably trying to make me feel better.

The topic was dropped when I didn’t respond. We shrugged our jackets on and headed out the door and into the busy Brooklyn street. We talked about mundane things while getting our manicures like new TV shows and the books I had been reading, that Emily wanted to apply to be a bartender at some of the local music venues so she could work and watch the guys’ band at the same time, whenever they started playing. I texted Jack constantly while we got our pedicures, our gushy love notes to each other in every other sentence. My heart dropped when he sent me a text: “Going to SoHo to pick up some art supplies then to a music store in Chelsea. We can meet you girls for dinner around there later.” Out of every place in New York City, he wanted to meet us in Chelsea? Was he doing this on purpose? I couldn’t say no to him – I texted back promptly. “Sounds good. Can’t wait to see you.”

After I mentioned that we would meet the guys in Chelsea, Emily quickly changed her mind about the thrift store in Cobble Hill and suggested a vintage shop she loved in Chelsea. My heart kept breaking over and over. I agreed to go.

My hands and stomach felt like jelly as we exited the F train onto 23rdStreet in Chelsea. We were so close, only blocks away from mine and Michael’s condo. My heart raced as we quickly walked towards the shop, afraid to look anyone in the eye in case it was Michael. What exactly would I do if I saw Michael? I had fantasies about running up to him and into his arms, him twirling me around in slow motion like a Hallmark movie.

We finally entered the bougie vintage shop and I could finally breathe again. We were sheltered from any sighting of Michael, for now at least. Was I afraid to see him? I knew I probably didn’t trust myself around him, especially if Jack wasn’t around. I loved Jack, but didn’t I love Michael more? Wasn’t that why I was doing all of this – not only to protect Jack, but to save Michael’s life?

“Oh my GOD,” Emily exclaimed as she picked up a dress from a busy rack of clothes.

“Gorgeous,” I agreed, eyeing the piece and going deeper into the small boutique.

My hands shook as I texted Jack, not really paying attention to any of the gorgeous vintage clothing around me; “We’re at a vintage shop in Chelsea. Let me know where we should meet you guys.” I slipped my phone back into my peacoat and looked around, trying to think of anything else but Michael.

“Please, Hana, youhaveto try this on,” Emily brought over a long, floral white dress that had a deep front cut and a low back.

“It’s too cold for that,” I furrowed my brows at her.

“It’ll be nice in a few months! Just hold onto it, will you? I’m too big for it, so I need to live vicariously through you,” she demanded, handing me the dress.

I took it and draped it over my arm, pretending to comb through other dresses as Emily did the same. We looked around for a few minutes, Emily pulling out a few dresses for herself, and then we decided to go to the dressing room together to try them on after the sales woman eyed us suspiciously. As we shared the small space behind a privacy curtain, my heart suddenly dropped when I realized that I was about to get naked in front of Emily. I had changed in front of her a million times, but I still had many bruises on my body that would look very suspicious if anyone saw them – too many to say that I bumped into a fence or fell on my ass. I stopped disrobing, only down to my t-shirt and jeans, but I paused so suddenly that Emily gave me a puzzled look.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I, um,” I started, my mind racing with a million useless excuses. “I have a couple bruises. It looks bad but they’re harmless. I’m anemic,” I lied, pulling my jeans down casually, trying hard not to look like the wreck that I felt.

Emily didn’t seem convinced. “You are? Let me see,” she demanded, stopping what she was doing; even almost-naked Emily was still fierce and confident.

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