Page 366 of Small Town Firsts

Stella yelps and rocks back on her heels, clutching her mug to her chest. "Yeah, you did. It scared me."

Guilt and shame are pressing on me, making me feel about an inch tall. A fact my best friend doesn't miss.

"Don't feel bad, Emmy. It's understandable, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." And I do, but that knowledge does nothing to make me feel any better. "Why did you call Sterling?"

"I didn't know what else to do. But, babe, the second he was next to you, you calmed down. You stopped thrashing and crying and screaming, just curled into him and went right to sleep."

"Really?"

"Yes, and when I tried to comfort you, it just made things worse."

I'm not quite sure how to process what she's saying, so I stay quiet.

"Speaking of, where is he?"

"Oh, he went to get us breakfast. For you, too."

A cheek-splitting grin overtakes her face. "I'm telling you, that man is a keeper."

I glance down at my feet, wriggling my toes over the plush rug. "I know he is. I'm just worried I'm not."

"Emmy. He loves you, and you are so worthy of his love. Do you hear me? You deserve good things and to be happy and healthy. Are you gonna..." She swallows and looks away.

"Am I going to what?"

"Are you gonna see a therapist or anything?"

My eyes water. There's such a freaking stigma surrounding mental health, and in my family, it's better swept under the rug. And certainly never talked about. It's part of the reason, aside from the hell Rob put me through, that I wanted to go into the psych field.

Still, it feels strange to talk about it all so openly. "Yeah. Yes, I am. I know I need to."

"Good. I'm really glad. So where is he getting breakfast from?" she asks, mercifully changing the subject.

"Holy Roasters."

Stella does a little fist pump and drains the last of her coffee. "Don't need this anymore, but don't want to waste it either."

I can't help but laugh at her antics. "Never waste coffee."

"Precisely," she says, right as someone knocks on the door.

"That must be Sterling," I say as she heads to the door. "His hands are probably full."

Stella opens the door, but it’s not Sterling on the other side.

“Abigail, is everything okay?” Stella asks, but the red-headed RA rushes past her and wraps me in bone-crushing hug.

“Oh, my God! I amsoglad you’re okay, Emmy!”

“Um.” I glance at Stella over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

“I was there,” she whispers, nodding her head toward the bathroom door. “With Sterling, when he…when we…”

Realization dawns. “Oh wow. Um.” Embarrassment now trumps all other emotions warring inside me. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

“Emmy.” She grasps my shoulders and waits until I’m looking her in the eye. “You have nothing to apologize for. Just focus on getting better and know if you ever need an ear, I’m here for you. Okay?”