“Emma.”
Embarrassment heats my cheeks. “I’m assuming Bradyn told you what happened?”
She lets out a sigh. “He did. And now I’m going to ask again, how are you?”
“Mad. Hurt. But it doesn’t matter. None of it does, and I think I’m starting to realize that.”
“What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?”
“Dylan will never be the man he was again, and I am finally coming to terms with that. Maybe now he’ll leave me alone so I can move on.”
She pauses a moment. “Look, I know I wasn’t around when everything between you two went sour, but I hope you know—he’s hurting too.”
“I really want to believe that, but I don’t. I need to go, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks for calling.”
“I’m here if you need me.”
To defend Dylan. “I know. Thanks. Bye.” Without waiting for her to say anything, I power down my cell phone and toss it onto the counter. After adding honey and milk to my tea, I take the mug into my living room and sit down on my couch, tucking both knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.
I can’t get the image of him out of my head.
Standing there, unmoving, completely unaffected by the pain he’s caused over the years. Pain that I’ve buried because I know that, even with what I’m feeling, it’s nothing compared to what he suffered over there. He could break my heart a thousand times over, and it still wouldn’t match up.
But I’m so tired of pretending that I’m okay. Of not wanting to fully grieve because it means I have to really let him go. Maybe that’s why God hasn’t healed my heart yet. Because I wasn’t truly ready to surrender my feelings for Dylan Hunt or the love that I still carry for him, despite everything.
Will I ever be able to move on?
My gaze lands on the photograph sitting on top of my coffee table. A woman and her baby. Me and my mother. Unfolding my legs, I reach forward and take it into my hands. The truth is that I have an entire family out there waiting to meet me.
People who won’t remind me of everything that went so horribly wrong.
But am I really selfish enough to leave my friends behind in search of a past I never thought I wanted to know?
Someone knocks on the door. Even though company is the last thing I want, I get to my feet and pull it open, fully expecting it to be Pastor Ford coming to check in on me after the very public fight in the church parking lot.
What I’m not expecting is Mattheus on my porch, a bouquet of bright white daisies in his hand. He smiles at me widely. “Hey, Emmaline.”
Alarms screech somewhere in my mind. How did he find me? Did he follow me? “Hey. How did you know where I live?”
“Asked around. Small town.” He offers me the flowers. “For you. I know I said I was going to give you time, but I realized that I never gave you anything for your birthday. Since it’s the first one I’ve actually been able to somewhat celebrate with you, I didn’t want to mess it up.”
“Thanks.” I take the flowers, feeling a bit of my pain ease away thanks to the distraction of having my brother here.
My brother.
It is a small town. And since Talia knew who he was, it wouldn’t be unusual if she told him where to find me, right? Honestly, he could have asked the florist. Genny has known me since I used to work there.
I always wanted a sibling. And here one is, on my doorstep. “Won’t you come in?”
“I would love to. Thanks.” He closes the door behind him as I carry the flowers into the house. “They smelled amazing in the floral shop, so I hope you like them.”
Leaning in, I sniff the flowers, drawing in the delicate scents. “They do smell amazing.” Reaching under my sink, I pull out a vase I bought at the farmer’s market last year and move to set it on the counter. But as I straighten, my vision swims, and the vase falls to the floor.
Glass shatters.
My stomach rolls as the ground sways beneath me.
“Oh no, I’m sorry.” I try to lean down to grab it but lose my ability to stand. Mattheus is there though, wrapping an arm around my waist to steady me.
