When I Was Theirs

10. Ben

10

Ben

T oo far.

This has gone so much further than I expected. Emmy Marsters has gone so much further than I expected, burrowing her way into my heart and my life without even trying.

I grip the ladder tightly as she sways, reaching for a map. One foot lifts as her fingers stretch out, leaving her balancing on one damn leg. “Get down, before I have a heart attack.”

That would be an unexpected development.

She grins down at me, but there’s a tightness in her expression that hasn’t disappeared in the hours we’ve spent hunting through town. She waves the map at me, wiggling her eyebrows. “Got it. Catch me.”

My heart bottoms out of my stomach when she pretends to jump off.

“Jesus Christ, Emmy—,”

She slips, and her startled cry ends with an oomph as I catch her in my arms. The maps in her grip flutter to the floor as she blinks at me sheepishly. “Good job you were here?”

Her words ring inside my head as I set her upright. My hands are shaking. “Yeah.”

I follow her from place to place, listening as she picks up various items. I don’t care about the apartment. But I care about her.

And if this eases the panic she felt when she saw the place where I live, then I can give her this.

We make several trips back and forth, carting items in boxes through the streets until I’m almost swaying on my feet. Emmy is still bouncing with enthusiasm, but I catch her eyes on me more than once before she drags me into a café for a rest stop.

Two coffees later and I almost feel back to normal. Almost.

Emmy watches me carefully, and I glance down at the map hanging from her slouchy bag that she’s putting in a frame for my wall. “Have you ever traveled?”

She shakes her head, lips pursing. “No. I wanted to, though.”

“Me too.” I stare at the green and blue paper. “I really wanted to go to South America. I nearly did, once.”

“Why didn’t you?” Emmy sips at her own coffee, her eyes too perceptive.

I shrug, forcing the memories away. “Life got in the way. You?”

“Same,” she whispers. And for a moment, I lose her.

It happens, sometimes. Her eyes glaze, and I know she’s somewhere far away from me. Somewhere bad.

I lean forward, brushing my fingers across her face. Across the scar on her skin. It starts in the corner of her right eye - a puckered area that covers most of her left cheek and chin area, spreading down the side of her neck.

It doesn’t end there. My eyes drop to her left arm. They’re covered today, but I know exactly how far the scarring goes. How they cover the underside of her upper arm in vivid, rippled color, as if she lifted it to try and shield herself.

I haven’t asked since that first morning.

And now her pupils dilate, her breathing speeding up.

“Emmy,” I breathe. I keep touching her. “Come back.”

The glaze passes, her breathing steadying as she blinks at me. Her smile wobbles. “Sorry.”

She’s going to be alone when I leave.

She’ll have Angelo, and Carla, but she was right. There isn’t anyone else in her life.

She left them behind. Just like I did.

“You with me?” I ask her gently.

She stirs, glancing around with an embarrassed expression. “Yeah.”

“Don’t worry about them,” I say quietly. “I’ve got you.”

But my heart is breaking.

Because I’ll have to leave her too.

The days are passing too quickly.

Emmy offers me a brighter smile. “We should get going.”

“Yeah.” My fingers tremble as I drain the last dregs of coffee. I lean on the table to push myself up.

The days are passing too quickly, and I’m getting tired.

Not yet.