When We Are Enough (Valiant Hearts #1)

1. Emmy

Chapter 1

Emmy

I t’s a tale as old as time; sex, the other woman, heartbreak. Except the other woman was my sister.

I never thought it would come to this: three suitcases packed with the remnants of a life I’m trying to forget, but here I am. A lot of the fancy clothes my fiancé Travis gave me are still hanging in the closet, and all the furniture in our apartment belonged to him, which made packing up and leaving a hell of a lot easier.

Glancing down the busy Philadelphia street, before leaning on a bright blue suitcase until it pops into the trunk alongside the others. The car is mine, at least: Betty , a VW Beetle I bought with my own savings.

A guy on a bicycle, trousers tucked into his socks, rides past and turns briefly to look at me before continuing his commute, weaving between vehicles and disappearing. The dissonant burst of a horn blasts the air moments before the screech of brakes. Someone drives past, music blaring, the city caught in the throes of the daily grind, completely unmoved by the fact I’m leaving.

It’s an odd sensation, the realization that while my life has been totally upended, the world continues to turn, alarm clocks going off, people presenting their loyalty cards for their morning coffee. Emails, calls from bosses. Everyone wrapped up in their own lives, their own problems: husbands having affairs, addictions, bills to pay, worry about which college their kid is going to get into.

I slam the trunk shut with a satisfying thunk just as a familiar town car rolls up and reverses into the space behind Betty. The driver, an older man with a weathered face and neat uniform, opens the back door and my mother and twin sister step out of the car a moment later.

Mom, always immaculately dressed, stands on the sidewalk, hands on her hips, expression cloaked in concern—or is it disapproval? Maddy is wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses, her blond hair falling in soft waves, looking flawlessly composed as her lips pinch slightly, face turned in my direction.

“Emmy, darling, are you sure about this?” Mom eyes Betty. “Your father offered to lease you a car. I’m not entirely sure why you said no.”

Forcing a smile. Hands self consciously smooth the front of my denim jacket even though there’s not a crease in sight. “This car will do me just fine. And it’s for the best, Mom. We all need a bit of space. You were the one who suggested it, remember?” My voice is steady despite the knots in my stomach.

Mom sighs. “When I said you should leave town for a while, I meant go and stay at our summer home, not...” she gestures vaguely at the car, “accept a job in some backward small town. It hardly seems fitting.”

I swallow, hating that my throat is suddenly tight. A glance at Maddy, who has been silent so far, her expression carefully neutral. The betrayal flickers between us, an unspoken shadow. Looking away, something tears loose inside me, a visceral rupture in the facade I’ve been holding up.

The wound is still raw and open, festering with unresolved hurt, the pain almost physical, but the thoughts are quickly boxed up, sealed away in a corner of my mind, somewhere dark and out of sight.

The Brooks have mastered the art of deception—not just the front we show the world, but what we tell ourselves, too. Fake it until it becomes your reality. We smile, we nod, we play the part so well that sometimes we forget where the performance ends and the truth begins.

“Getting away for a while is exactly what I need, Mom.” My tone is more assertive. Good. opening the driver’s side door before turning back to face them. “Really, I’ll be fine.”

Mom reaches out, touching my arm with a cool fingertip, manicured fingernails painted a vivid red. Slight pressure, nails pressing into my skin. “You know we only want what’s best for you. You’re doing the right thing by taking some time away for a little while, even if I don’t agree with the where . It’s best for everyone if we avoid a scandal.”

I nod, the weight of her words and the expectations that come with them a tangible thing, curling around me and not letting go. “I know.”

I give both my mother and sister a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, their familiar scents—floral perfume for Mom, something lighter for Maddy—filling my senses briefly, mingling with the gritty city air. The proximity to Maddy leaves me feeling physically sick.

Memories of our shared childhood flash through my mind—secret whispers under the covers, giggling and playing together for hours, a bond that was meant to last a lifetime. It’s true we haven’t been close for years, but the chasm that has opened up between us since she slept with my damned fiancé is too wide to ever be bridged again.

Maddy’s gaze meets mine for a fleeting moment, and in her expression there’s a flicker of something that might be regret or maybe even resignation. We both know there’s no undoing what’s been done, she crossed a line that we can never come back from, shredding the na?ve belief I once held that some bonds were unbreakable.

Another smile. A wave as I step into Betty, pulling the door shut with a definitive click. The engine sputters to life with a hiccup and, pulling away from the curb, I try not to look back, but end up watching their sudden animated conversation in the rear-view mirror until I take a right and they’re gone.

Soon Philadelphia falls away behind me, and I pull onto Route 30, Betty protesting every increase in speed with a shake, the steering wheel shuddering. It feels fitting somehow, the stubborn car and me, both a little worse for wear but still pushing forward.

A sleek sedan zooms up behind me, small in the side mirror at first and then not, headlights flashing, horn blaring. The driver, a man in a sharp business suit, shouts something unintelligible and flips me off as he speeds past. I can’t help but grin, a real, teeth-showing, pageant worthy smile. A winner’s smile, my mom would say.

I’m not going to let anyone’s road rage or anything else ruin the day. No more drama—that’s my new mantra. But despite the smile, there’s an aching pit in my chest that refuses to go away. Time. I just need a little time.

The hour’s drive goes quickly, landscapes blending into a blur of greens and browns until I see the sign: Welcome to Harbor’s Edge . My heart skips. This is it. I signal and take the exit, the road curving toward a scenic lookout point. Pulling over, killing the engine before stepping out, intent on stretching my cramped legs.

A few steps to the lookout and the vastness of Little Egg Harbor opens up, its waters glistening under the afternoon sun, contrasting with the deep olive green of the Pine Barrens stretching out to the right. Harbor’s Edge sprawls along the shore, small houses and low-rise buildings painting a picture of peaceful, small-town life.

It’s beautiful, more beautiful than I imagined, and my gaze catches on a broad pier jutting out into the water beside the marina, before landing on a white lighthouse at the far end of town. The railing in front of me looks a little rusted and rickety, but it’s worth the risk of leaning over to take it all in, sucking in a deep breath like my life depends on it.

The sea air is salty and fresh, filling my lungs and clearing my head for the first time in a week. My eyes close for a moment, and there’s this feeling like I’m standing on the precipice, the edge of something profound—the end of my old life and the start of something new.

“New beginnings.” The words whispered, a promise and a prayer.

Taking another deep breath, Betty calls to me. A quick glance at the map and directions I printed last night on Travis’ printer, then her engine groans a few times before sparking to life, and we pull back onto the road.

Travis . Just the thought of him leaves a sour taste in my mouth and an ache in my chest. He’d been everything my parents wanted for me: from the right family, with the right job. They’d been pleased when we started dating—I’d finally done something right, landing the ideal son-in-law who would elevate the Brooks family image.

But after what happened, all the lies and deception, I’ve never wanted to be as far away from anyone as him. Every polite smile, every well-rehearsed gesture that once seemed charming, was just a mask. He was no better than anyone else—in fact, he was worse —and every mile between us brings a breath of relief. Harbor’s Edge is waiting, and with it, my new life.

No looking back now.

Soon Betty and I are cruising down Main Street, soaking in every detail of the town. Cute cafes, stores, and galleries line one side of the street, each with their own charming signs and inviting storefronts. Across the road, the boardwalk stretches along the beach, and the pier is larger than life, people walking hand in hand along its length .

The scene is straight out of a postcard, and a flicker of excitement stirs in my chest. A little girl on the boardwalk lets go of her pink balloon and we both watch as it soars into the blue of the bright sky, getting smaller and smaller, higher and higher, lighter than air.

A red light stops me midway down Main Street, and an array of pastries and cakes in a window catches my eye— Sweet Current Bakery . We idle for about ten seconds before Betty sputters and groans, my grip tightening on the steering wheel as it shakes.

“Hang in there, Betty.” But her engine shudders one last time and then dies completely. “Shit!”

Blowing out a breath, teeth gritted. “It’s going to be okay, Betty.”

Though I’m inwardly groaning. I try the ignition again, but she remains unresponsive, and the light in front of us changes to green. A line of cars forms behind me, impatient stares boring into the back of my head. Hazard lights go on, a blush of embarrassment coloring my cheeks.

Trying to look like I have a clue, I step out and pop the hood, hoping it’s something obvious. A few drivers stare at me as they maneuver around us, and I offer an apologetic wave.

“Welcome to Harbor’s Edge,” I mutter under my breath, staring at Betty’s hissing engine.