When I Was Theirs

58. Emmy

58

Emmy

W hen I wake up again, there is no shouting.

My body feels strange, as though I’m floating. I risk cracking my eyes open again, relieved when there’s no bright light to punish them for it. But all I get are blurred shapes.

It slowly clears, giving me a view of Jared’s hair, messy and wild. He’s lowered the bedrail, his shoulders rising and falling. My hand is cradled in his, his forehead resting against our clasped fingers.

He didn’t leave.

“Emilia.”

Haltingly, I drag my eyes from him, wetting my lips. “Mom?”

My mother looks more unkempt than I’ve ever seen her. Her hair has unraveled from its usual impeccably sleek knot at the back of her head, and there’s a coffee stain on her dress.

But her expression is familiar. A little distant, as she flicks her fingers over her dress to remove an invisible interloper. “How are you feeling? The nurses put you on a drip for some pain relief.”

That explains the floating.

I swallow. “I can’t feel much.”

My voice is barely more than a hoarse whisper, an audible wheeze to my breathing. “What happened to my throat?”

“It’s swollen.” My mom glances at Jared. “No permanent damage. Thankfully. He hasn’t left you once. Your father is outside, in the corridor.”

I stiffen, and Jared stirs. His hair brushes my arm. “He hasn’t come inside?”

“Your… friend , said no. He wouldn’t let your father in unless you give him permission.”

Something in my chest warms at that. “Oh.”

“I won’t be able to stay much longer,” she says quietly. “But I understand if you would rather not see him before we leave.”

The air wheezing from my lungs crackles. Would I? “Maybe.”

I don’t think I can answer that yet. Returning my attention to Jared, I carefully draw my hand out from his. He mutters something, his face turning to the side. He doesn’t wake up, not even when I gingerly lift my hand and run my fingers through his hair.

“He loves you.” My mother sounds as though she’s talking about the weather. “Very much. I’m glad for you.”

If I wasn’t focusing on breathing, I’d laugh. “What would you know about it?”

“I know what the absence of love looks like. It becomes obvious, when you’re looking at the real thing.” She clears her throat. “I am sorry, Emilia. For not… for not helping you.”

“The first time?” I keep running my fingers through his hair in small movements. Soothing myself to get through this conversation. “The fifth? Or the last time?”

When will the next time be?

“Where is Arron?” My heart thumps a little faster. “Is he… here?”

I’m sure our fathers will make sure he slithers out of this. I’ve been down this road before.

But… he threatened Jared . My fingers clench, accidentally tugging on the inky strands of his hair, and he stirs again.

“Em.” My name is a mumble on his lips as he jerks awake, blinking rapidly. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah.” I try to smile, but my lips don’t move. “I was just asking what happened to Arron.”

Even half-asleep, worry still furrows his brow. He exchanges a glance with my mother, and I slowly move my eyes between them. “What?”

He clears his throat. “Nothing you need to worry about now. He can’t hurt you. The police will be in soon to talk to you.”

“Tell me.” I need to know. “Please.”

Jared still hesitates. “He… we don’t really know, Em. But he was at the bottom of the stairs.”

I blink, searching my memory. “The lights went out. He… he fell.”

I grabbed his leg. And I pulled on it.

Jared doesn’t say anything. It takes me too long to put the pieces together. “Oh. He’s… dead.”

My words hang in the air. Not a question. Not when I already know the answer. “Is his father here?”

Jack Matthews is possibly a worse person than his son. Arron had to learn it from somewhere.

“Jack passed away,” my mother says quietly. “Heart attack. Last year.”

Both of them are gone, then. Out of my life.

I don’t know how to feel about that.

“Don’t you waste a second of breath worrying about either of them.” Jared’s words are forceful, but his touch is gentle as he pushes back my hair. “He hurt you, Em. Again. He deserved everything he got.”

I inhale. Wet, noisy. “I know.”

I’m… free.

The harsh sound of shouting comes from the hall, and I shrink back. Jared’s mouth thins, and he gets to his feet. “I’ll tell him to be quiet.”

My father. “No. I want to see him. Will you… ask him to come in?”

A pause. “Sure. I’ll wait outside.”

“No.” My vehemence surprises everyone. Especially me. “Stay. Please.”

Jared searches my face. “Okay.”