When I Was Theirs

62. Emmy

62

Emmy

I don’t move. I don’t think I can. “Just give me a minute.”

“There’s no rush.” Jared balances his bag on the floor. “You don’t have to do this today, Em.”

But I do. My palms feel itchy as I stare up at my apartment building. “They fixed the keypad.”

Jared shifts, and my attention moves to him. My eyes, still swollen and bruised, narrow. He looks shifty . “Did you do something? Speak to my landlord?”

“I might have pointed out his legal responsibilities.” His voice is dry. “But I fixed it myself in the end. Faster.”

I blink. “You fixed the entry keypad?”

He rubs at the back of his neck. “Uh. Yeah. It wasn’t too hard. I just wanted to make sure you felt as safe as possible. Everyone here obviously has the code, but at least people can’t just walk in now.”

My chest feels like it expands, and I find myself breathing a little easier. “Thank you. It does make me feel better.”

“Then it was worth it.” He offers me a small smile. “It should have been done months ago.”

But it wasn’t, so he did it instead.

Deep breath. “Let’s go.”

It’s hard. So fucking hard to walk up these steps. To see the gray walls. The light overhead has been fixed, the bare bulb covered with a functional cream shade.

My feet drag, but Jared quietly follows my movements without complaint.

And it’s a lot cleaner . All the rubbish has been taken away, the floors mopped. I shoot Jared a suspicious look, but he’s not looking at me as he searches his pockets for my apartment key.

It distracts me enough that I manage to make it all the way up the steps. Jared stays close as I approach my door. “I thought this was broken?”

When I look at him, his lips are pressed together. “You have a secret talent for home renovation I didn’t know about?”

My voice is easy, but my heart pounds. He did this for me. And it must have been yesterday, because it’s the only time he left me.

Jared shakes his head, but there’s a small smile on his lips. “You think I’d let you come home to a broken door and an unsafe apartment? Give me a little credit, Em. That’s just human decency.”

Not to me.

My cheeks still feel warm as we walk through the door. Pausing, I pull my eyes up from the floor and look around. “You’re a sneaky one, Jared Bennett.”

He came in and fixed it all.

My floors are spotless. The couch cushions are back in place, no sign of the tussle I had with Arron. Even my bamboo shelves are back up, the hinges wrapped with some sort of tape.

And I laugh – a genuine, croaking laugh – as I see my kitchen table. A small figure is propped up against my empty vase, a hastily written welcome home scrawled on the paper balanced next to her. “Hey, Geraldine.”

Geraldine doesn’t look too happy with her new face. Lines of glue have stitched the large, broken pieces back together. I try to hide my amusement at the way both sides of her nose are completely off-center. “I actually love her even more now.”

“I hoped you would.” Jared drops our things onto the floor and walks up beside me, eyeing the doll warily. “I think we’ve reached a compromise. I couldn’t save everything, though. I put the larger pieces in a bag and stored them in the sideboard, in case you want to take a look.”

I turn to look. “What about our clown?”

I don’t want to tell him that it’s my favorite item, after Geraldine.

“Unscathed.” There’s a smile in his voice as I step forward to see for myself. “Only a few broke.”

I can live with that.

“This is…,” I walk backward, still looking around. “This is more than human decency, Jared.”

To me, at least. Far more.

When I turn, Jared’s arms are folded as he leans against the wall. His dark hair falls over his forehead. And he’s smiling at me, his eyes soft. “We need to work on your standards, Emilia Marsters.”

“I’m going to get spoiled.” My muscles groan as I make my way over to him.

His eyebrows raise in question. “What are you—,”

I throw my arms around him, and he groans. “Em. What did the doctor say? Take it easy.”

But he wraps his arms around me as I breathe him in. “I was so scared of this.”

But Jared took a bad memory, and he replaced it with something good. “I’ve never come home to anything like this before.”

When I was discharged from hospital after the burns to my face, I took a cab home by myself. Arron had left the cold pan on top of the cooker, the oil sticky and congealed on the floor.

I had to clean it out myself.

“You like the sign?” His words are muffled in my neck. “Geraldine wrote it herself, you know.”

“I love the sign.”

We’re both grinning when we pull apart. Jared catches my wince, ushering me to the couch before he turns. “Rest. I’ve got this. Are you hungry?”

I curl my fingers into the blanket. “You went grocery shopping, didn’t you?”

It feels like getting an insight into a different Jared. The Jared that raised his little brother. The back of his neck turns red as he leans into the fridge. “You had olives that went off before you even moved in. They were four years out of date. How is that possible?”

Huh. I don’t actually like olives. “I didn’t think I remembered buying those.”

“Your vegetables were on their way to creating a new ecosystem.”

“I hope you didn’t throw away my science experiment. Your food had better be good if you’re talking up this much game, Bennett.”

“Rest your throat and put the sass away, Marsters. I’m under strict instructions from Wilson to give you soft foods only, so we’ll find out.”

***

I linger in the door of my bedroom. “It just doesn’t look comfortable. That’s all I’m saying.”

Jared’s eye cracks open. “I promise you, your couch is fine. Really comfortable. You need to sleep.”

“Your feet are hanging off the edge.” I fold my arms.

“Em.” He sits up and runs a hand over his face. “I promise you, I’m fine here.”

His hair is damp and rumpled from the shower, the white t-shirt and gray sweatpants he changed into earlier doing nothing to hide the sleek muscle beneath.

I can feel myself flushing, but I stand firm. “There’s space for both of us. We can build a pillow wall down the middle if you’re worried.”

He groans. “You’re a menace. No, Emmy.”

I point behind me. “Get in the bed, and I promise I’ll go straight to sleep. It doesn’t mean anything, apart from you not waking up bent out of shape like a pretzel.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Please.” I bite my lip, letting the thoughts in my head out. “It’s dark. I don’t… I don’t want to sleep on my own.”

How pathetic, Emmy. Also, you sleep with a damn nightlight.

But Jared sits up at that. “You know I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“I know.” My bare toe pokes at the floorboard. “But you can’t outrun what’s in your own head.”

He studies my face. “Okay. But straight to sleep.”

He’s surprisingly bossy. “What about a movie?”

“ Emmy .”

“Fine.”

I scoot over to the left side of my double bed, leaving the right free for him. Jared gingerly climbs in on his side. “This bed is smaller than the couch.”

“That is such an exaggeration.”

Maybe. He takes up so much space .

I shift, almost rolling into him. The sound he makes almost sounds like a growl. “Emilia. Stop moving.”

“Sorry.” I roll onto my other side. My throat aches. So does my face. I can’t see myself getting much sleep tonight. The pain is the least of the thoughts that float around in my head.

“Did you take your painkillers?”

“Yep.” With minimal success. Sighing, I roll onto my back.

Jared stays silent as I stare up at the ceiling. “What are those?”

“Turn off the light and find out.” His voice softens.

My hand creeps out, searching for the switch. My words stick in my swollen throat.

“Oh.”

That's all I can manage. Above me, the little stars glow, creating a soft ceiling of light. “ Jared .”

We lay next to each other in the darkness, looking up. My fingers creep across the bedding. Searching.

His hand finds mine. “Sleep now. I’ve got you.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

Because this Jared… I don’t think I’ll be able to let him go.