I slowly pull myself into a seating position. My head is still ringing from the impact, pain blossoming out through my skull.
“Jules? Talk to me, are you OK?” Emerson’s voice breaks with panic.
I look up. He’s got a bloody nose from where Daniel got in a punch, and his eyes are still fevered with the fight, his breath coming fast. He reaches out to gently cup my cheek, turning my head from side to side to check for cuts.
“Don’t touch her!” Daniel struggles up from the ground, looking red-faced and disheveled.
“It’s OK,” I manage, “I’m fine.”
Emerson’s face is stricken, dark eyes full of anguish. “I wasn’t thinking. I would never… Jules, you know I would never hurt you!”
I nod, and squeeze his hand. “I know.”
The irony rings in my ears. Of course Emerson would never knowingly lay a hand on me, but hurt me?
It’s way too late for that.
The two of them take my arms, and slowly help me to my feet. “I’m fine,” I say again, embarrassed by the fuss. “Really, it was just a fall.”
Daniel turns on Emerson, furious. “Is this what you want?” He yells, voice rising. I look at him in shock. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Daniel so angry. “What the hell are you even doing here?” He demands, getting up in Emerson’s face. “Can’t you see, you bring her nothing but pain?”
“It’s OK, Daniel.” I interrupt him, stepping between them before someone can throw another punch. “Go inside a minute.”
Daniel shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you alone with him.”
I expect Emerson to lunge at him again, but he drops my arm, and paces back and forth by the truck. I turn back to Daniel.
“Trust me,” I say, imploring him. “Please? I need to do this.”
Daniel glares at Emerson again, fierce enough to peel his skin back, but eventually, he nods. “I’ll be right inside,” he says loudly. “And if he so much as raises his voice…”
“Thank you.” I exhale, relieved.
Daniel goes inside again, and I wait until the door closes before turning back to Emerson. He’s still pacing, his dark head lowered, fists flexing and clenching at his sides.
My emotions are churning in a whirlwind of fear, and doubt, and hope, and insecurity—everything bound up in this one moment, right here. But as I look at him, I feel a strange sense of strength. I can do this, I need to know what the hell’s going on.
“Well?”
When I speak, I’m surprised to hear my voice come out bold and even. I fold my arms, waiting. “What is it you came here to say to me?”
Emerson lifts his head. “I… I f**ked up.”
I tremble at the misery in his expression, a deep ache in his eyes. But I force myself to stand firm.
“Which part, exactly?” I demand, my voice steely. “The part where you run off this morning and leave to wake up alone? The part where you lie, and make up some reason for bailing? Or the part where I have to walk back all the way home like some stupid whore who was stupid enough to think that last night actually meant something?”
Emerson flinches. “It did!”
“Really?” I shoot back, my voice quaking now. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way to me. Fuck,” I swear, feeling the familiar sting of tears in the back of my throat. In an instant, all my resolve crumbles. I don’t want to be here yelling at him, I just want everything to be OK.
“I don’t know what to say to you!” I beg. I reach for him, but Emerson strides away, his back turned. “Please, talk to me. What the hell is going on in that messed-up head of yours? Because I’ve tried to be patient, and trust that everything will work itself out, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t feel like this all over again!”
“You can’t?” Emerson turns on me with a bark. He gestures angrily towards the house. “How do you think I feel? I’m gone for a few hours, and you go running right back to him!”
“What? No!” I cry, confused. “Daniel isn’t… I didn’t call him here.”
“But you didn’t send him away either.” Emerson’s face is grim: closed off and remote, like all his defenses have snapped back down. The distance in his eyes sends a chill right through me. “I guess it was all bullshit, huh? All that stuff about being broken up with him. You always knew he was the one you’d choose!”
“Stop it!” I yell, “Don’t make this about him. He’s just trying to help.”
“Sure he is,” Emerson drawls cruelly. “I guess his money helps too, and his fancy college degree. I shouldn’t be surprised. What was that you said to me, how I’m just like my parents?” Emerson adds, and in a flash, I remember our final fight again, and all the terrible things we said.
“I didn’t mean it,” I whisper.
“Sure you did, and you’re right!” Emerson yells. “Just look at me, I’m nothing. I’ll always be nothing. It’s why you picked him, isn’t it? I’ll never be good enough for you!”
I reel back like I’ve been slapped. “Is that why you left me this morning?” I demand, suddenly furious. “Do you really think that little of me?”
“I call it like I see it,” Emerson tells me with a cruel smirk. “You picked right, with that guy. You belong with him.”