Page 71 of Healing Hearts
“If they find anything,” I say, clenching and unclenching my hands under the table, “it was planted. I swear to you that I’ve got nothing to do with this.”
“When we go in there to speak to the police, check with me before you answer any question. Just a visual check-in is fine. They’re feeling you out, but they have no evidence. We don’t want to inadvertently give them something they feel the need to pursue.”
“Thomas, I’m clean.” A hint of frustration has crept into my voice.
“Trent, I told you this last time, my job is to defend you to the best of my ability, make sure the rule of law is followed.”
Unlike last time, that response is maddening. I just want him to know that I didn’t do it. Last time I did, and I was prepared to pay whatever price the law required. The injustice of it all just makes me want to fucking cry, but getting emotional isn’t going to get me out of here.
“Let’s get this over with,” I say, rising from my seat.
Together, we head into the police interrogation room, and I tell them everything I know.
When I pull into the driveway, Emily’s car is already there. My heart thumps in my chest at what I know I have to do. No part of me wants to go in there, but I can’t hide from her forever. It’s bad enough that I drove around town for an hour, went to the lake and sat staring at the water for a while, too. I wouldn’t be surprised to look down and find my boots made of concrete.
With a deep breath, I open the door into the kitchen. Emily turns from the sink, and relief is clearly written across her face. She closes the distance between us and envelopes me into a hug, clutching onto me like I’m a lifeline in a storm. But I’m no hero today.
I let my arms circle her loosely, but I don’t sink into her like I normally would. I’m not sinking into anything anymore. Surface level is so much safer for everyone.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Is Amir here?” That was the other thing weighing on my mind as I sat at the lake. If things got messy between me and Emily, I didn’t want him to see any of it. But he should be home by now. I left it too late. Somehow, I’m never quite making the right choices.
“He’s with Mia and Tyler.”
“I’m going to go stay with my mom,” I say, stepping past her. “I just came here to grab my stuff.”
“For tonight?”
“No,” I say, “I’m staying there until I’m allowed back in the shop, and then I’ll stay there until I can find someone to rent to me.”
“Trent.”
I close my eyes at the way she says my name because it sounds like heartbreak, and that’s not what either of us signed up for.
“I can’t stay here,” I say, but I don’t leave the kitchen to pack my things.
“I understand if you want some space tonight, and how pulling away might seem like the right choice. But none of what’s happened today was your fault.”
“You’re sure about that?” I ask. “You don’t wonder if maybe I did do it?”
“No,” she says. “Not for a second.”
“Probably half the town right now feels pretty damn good about how they resisted giving me a chance.”
“I don’t care how the rest of the town feels. I know the truth.”
I rub my face and brace myself to ask the question I’ve avoided these past few months. In the back of my mind, I knew if I asked and she gave me the answer I expected, I’d have to cut things off. And honestly, I just really wanted this chance with the shop, with her.
“Tell me,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Tell me you haven’t lost one client because of your association with me? Tell me that no one has said they won’t use your real estate company because of me.”
Emily stares at me and her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t admit what I’ve known subconsciously for months. There are people in this town who willneverforgive me, and that makes Emily guilty by association.
“I’ll see myself out,” I say, moving toward the stairs to pack my stuff.
“Trent.” My name is more of a sob than a word, but I can’t turn around, can’t hold her, because I’ll only drag her down.
After I’ve finished shoving everything into my two suitcases, I stand staring at the two pieces Amir made me for Father’s Day,and my lungs feel tight, like I can’t quite breathe. The life I could have had is just there—out of reach. I slide open the nightstand drawer, and I put both pieces inside. I can’t bear to take them with me.
