Page 249 of There's No Us Without You
I swallow down the acid rising in my throat. Where do I even start?
Carter brings me a glass of water. “Here, babe. Drink this. I’ll give you two some privacy. I’ll be just outside if you need me.” He kisses Stella’s forehead and pulls his phone out of his pocket, his half-eaten sandwich in his other hand.
When he disappears, I tell Stella everything—about the funeral yesterday, seeing Will and Emerson last night.
The fight with my mother and Kent.
She listens intently, nodding her head, her hands never leaving mine.
I’m breathless by the time I finish, and my body is about a thousand times lighter now that I’ve expelled everything. I sink back into the single seater and rub my eyes.
“Well,” Stella says, patting my thigh. “You can stay here. My mum won’t mind, and I’d be happy to have the company.”
“Thanks, Stell,” I say, giving her hands a squeeze.
The slamming of car doors, followed by familiar voices, has me sitting up again and rubbing my hands over my thighs. Oh god no.
Carter, what did you do?
Stella’s eyes widen when the front door opens, and Carter stalks in, followed by Emerson and Will.
“Hey, Pop-Tart,” Emerson says, coming towards me, his arms outstretched.
Will hangs back, his hands in his pockets as he leans against the wall.
“Why are you here?” I cross my arms over my chest. My words sound harsher than I meant them, but I’m not ready to face whatever this . . . intervention is.
Emerson drops his arms to his sides, pausing a couple of metres in front of me. “Carter called—thought you might need us.”
Stella narrows her eyes on Carter. “Seriously?”
He shrugs. “What? They love each other. I made an executive decision. You can thank me later.”
“Jesus,” Stella says, shaking her head and standing. “Come on then, Cupid. Let’s give these three some space.”
The two of them leave, taking Stella’s sister with them as they disappear down the hallway.
Emerson glances quickly over his shoulder at Will, who’s still leaning against the wall. “We want you to come home,” he says, taking a small step towards me as though I might just turn and run.
God, he smells so good. “But?—”
“Eden,” Will says, pushing off the wall. “It’s not up for discussion. You belong with us.”
These two are unbelievable. And where’s the less demanding version of Will—the one I encountered last night? Has he just gone into hiding again?
“You can’t just snap your fingers and make me fall into line. That’s not how this works.”
Will clenches his jaw. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Christ,” Emerson says, shaking his head at Will. “You suck at this, dude.” He sits on the coffee table and leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “What Will is trying to say is that we understand there’s a lot we need to discuss, but what will make that easier is if you live with us again. Promise we’ll give you your space.”
The hopeful expression on Emerson’s face makes my heart hurt. I want to say yes, but I also can’t just run back to them every time I have an argument with my mother. It’s not fair to them, or to me.
But there’s also that nagging little voice in my head, the one that sounds exactly like my father.
Forgiveness is like a warm hug—it just feels good.
Will clears his throat. “You don’t have to make a decision right now.”
