Holidays and Handcuffs (Bringing Home Trouble)

Chapter 3

Emily

As I pull out of the coffee shop parking lot, I glance in the rearview mirror, and see Jack still standing by the door, watching me leave. God, I hope he doesn’t think I’m crazy for rushing out like that. One minute I’m sitting across from him, feeling like the world had slowed down just for us, and the next, I’m bolting like some kind of lunatic because of a phone call.

The truth is, I’d almost forgotten about my family and their constant demands for a moment. It all vanished in Jack’s presence. His easy smile, the way his eyes seemed to study me like I was the only thing that mattered in the world. But then, my mom’s call yanked me right back to reality. Now, I’m driving toward the hospital, knowing there’s going to be hell to pay for not rushing over the second she called.

But strangely, I can’t bring myself to care. All I can think about is Jack. Of all people, I never expected to run into him—literally.

I let out a breath thinking back how handsome he looks. He’s filled out in all the right ways, broader shoulders, a chest that stretches the fabric of his uniform, and his face… it’s even more striking than I remember. He has a scar that cuts across the left side of his jaw, starting near his ear and fading just before his chin. It’s faint, and instead of taking away from his looks, it only adds to his rugged charm. And those piercing eyes, the way they looked at me…

I shake my head, forcing myself to focus on the road. You need to stop daydreaming, Emily .

But then my mind drifts again, back to that moment when I noticed the bracelet on his wrist, he still has on after all these years ago. I thought I’d imagined it at first, but no. He still had it on. All this time.

Does that mean he’s been thinking about me? Do I matter that much to him? Maybe that’s why he asked me to dinner, why he looked at me like he’d never really left. My pulse quickens at the thought. Maybe Jack cares about me.

I let out a breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter as I pull into the hospital parking lot. Stop it, Emily. I scold myself silently. Don’t get ahead of yourself. He probably just wants to catch up, that’s all. No need to go reading into things.

But, why does the idea of seeing him again today feel like the best thing that’s happened to me in… well, forever?

I park the car and sit for a second, trying to shake off the rush of emotions swirling inside me. I know what’s waiting for me inside—my mother’s shrill voice, I’m about to face another round of family chaos.

Just like I anticipated, the moment I step into the waiting area, I’m welcomed by my mother’s sharp voice.

“Where were you? You were supposed to get here the moment I called you,” she snaps, her face pinched with frustration. I barely have a chance to blink before my father’s disapproving frown joins in, the same expression he’s been giving me for years.

“Do you even care about your brother?” he adds, his tone cold, as if I’ve somehow failed a test I didn’t even know I was taking.

I bite the inside of my cheek, swallowing down the bitter words that sit on my tongue. They always make me feel this way, small, like nothing I do is ever good enough. I’m not the child they dote on, I’m the one they tolerate.

My stomach twists with the familiar sense of guilt and frustration. I want to tell them where I was, that I needed a moment to breathe, to think. But I know it wouldn’t matter. It never does.

“Of course, I care, I just stopped by to get coffee,” I say quietly, but the words sound weak even to my own ears.

“So, you stopped by to get coffee after I told you your brother is sick?” My mother’s voice trembles, her eyes wide with disbelief as if I’ve just committed some unforgivable sin. She looks like she’s on the verge of a heart attack, one hand pressed dramatically to her chest.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Of course, she would latch onto that detail. Not the fact that I rushed here as soon as I could. Not the fact that I came down here even though I should be at work. No, it's the coffee that’s the real crime here.

“I just needed a minute,” I say, keeping my voice as calm as possible. “I was heading here, but—”

“But you chose coffee over your brother!” she cuts me off, her voice rising to a shrill pitch that makes me wince.

“It was like five minutes, Mom,” I snap, my patience wearing thin. “I was just trying to clear my head.”

She throws her hands up in the air, clearly not interested in my reasoning. “Unbelievable! Your brother could’ve been dying, and you’re off getting your little caffeine fix. Do you even care about anyone but yourself?”

How could she even ask me that? I’m literally about to give Billy my kidney. What more could she possibly expect from me?

Thankfully, it’s just us in the waiting area, so no one is taking a front row seat to my family belittling me this time. Small mercies.

I let out a sigh of relief as the doctor walks in, interrupting my mom from what she’s about to say. In a second my parents are all over him, firing off questions about Billy’s condition.

“How is our son? Is he going to be all right?” my mom asks in a breathless rush.

“He’ll be fine,” the doctor replies calmly, glancing at his clipboard. “He has kidney stones.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Kidney stones. Painful, yes, but far from life-threatening. At least my kidneys are safe with me this time.

But, of course, my mother isn’t satisfied. “Is he going to need a kidney transplant?” she asks, her voice rising in pitch, already planning how I’ll fit into this equation.

“No,” the doctor says firmly, but my mom keeps pushing, her words bubbling over in a frenzy.

“Are you sure? Maybe we should test his sister, just in case,” she insists, her eyes briefly darting to me.

My heart clenches at her words, but I stay silent, my hands curling into fists at my sides. The doctor, to his credit, looks like he’s trying not to roll his eyes.

“There will be no need for that,” he says, a little sharper this time. “Billy’s kidney stones are treatable. He just needs to start living healthier.”

“Healthy?” my mom repeats, incredulous. “My boy lives healthy!”

The doctor raises an eyebrow, and his voice turns dry. “Billy smokes. A lot. We also found a heavy amount of alcohol and traces of controlled drugs in his system. He needs to cut down on those.”

I almost want to laugh at the look on my mother’s face, like the doctor had just accused her of some great personal failure. Of course, she wouldn’t see the truth for what it is. Billy can do no wrong. He’s her golden boy, no matter what the facts say.

As my parents start arguing with the doctor about Billy’s lifestyle choices, I pull out my phone, texting my boss to let her know I’ll be coming in late.

Her response is almost immediate: No problem, take your time.

I let out a small sigh of relief, grateful that at least someone in my life is understanding. But the momentary calm doesn’t last long, because just then, another text comes through.

Hey, it’s Jack. Hope your brother is okay?

His message pulls me right back to earlier, and I suddenly remember that I agreed to have dinner with him tonight.

After this encounter with my family, I should want nothing more than to retreat to my apartment and bury myself under a blanket. But the thought of spending time with Jack—the way he looked at me, the way he smiled—makes me feel something I haven’t felt in years. Seen.

Still, my parents’ voices echo in my head. You only care about yourself, my mother’s words replay. I’m already emotionally drained, I always feel this way for every minute I spend with them, the last thing I want is to be in Jack’s presence only to come off as uninteresting or weighed down by my own insecurities.

I open the message, staring at the screen for a moment before I type back.

Yeah he is. Thanks for reaching out. I don’t think I can make it for dinner tonight. Sorry...