When We Are Enough (Valiant Hearts #1)

40. Emmy

Chapter 40

Emmy

F or a long moment I stare up at the sky, taking in the tiny pin-pricks of light appearing as the setting sun throws up streaks of purple and pink across the horizon, replaying my conversation with Kathy, processing it all.

Despite what happened last night at the station and the very real worries running through my mind, there’s a sense of peace here in Harbor’s Edge, a contentment that swells from my chest, radiating until it extends beyond me.

This place. Patrick. It’s been so different from the world I left behind in Philadelphia, the one I shared with Travis. Patrick has brought me back to life. He’s made me feel things. Real things. I think about how it feels to be in his arms, the safety and warmth, and how much lighter he seems when we’re together. Pushing him away would only hurt us both.

What if I can do this? Maybe I can let Patrick in, let him see those parts of me that are kept hidden, the broken, ugly bits, despite my fears.

I glance across the road and catch a glimpse of the couple in the house opposite. The man has moved away from the stove and is holding a wooden spoon, offering the sauce he’s made to the woman at the bench. She leans in, her eyes lighting up as she takes a small taste. They laugh, sharing a private moment that seems so ordinary, yet somehow perfect.

Longing hits me, imagining Patrick and me in their place. It’s such a small, everyday domestic act—cooking dinner together— but it represents something I’ve always craved: a life filled with simple, real moments. The kind of moments that build a life together, one day at a time.

I don’t want the fancy trappings of the life my parents live. I don’t need the clothes or the parties or the constant feeling that I don’t measure up. As much as it scares me, deep down, all I want is someone who really sees me, and still loves me.

Taking a breath, steadying myself, I make my way back to Granny Sloane’s house, where I head straight inside, the smell of lasagne and warm conversation hitting me.

Riley walks through the door a few minutes after me, and the moment she steps inside, Stormy bounds toward her, tail wagging furiously, dancing around her feet, yipping with excitement. She laughs, bending down to scoop him up.

“Oh my gosh, Granny Sloane, you have a dog!” She cuddles Stormy close, scratching behind his ears as he wriggles happily in her arms.

Granny Sloane watches from her chair, a fond smile on her face. “Yes, we do. He’s a little rascal, but he’s brought so much life to the house. Patrick and Emmy rescued him right before the hurricane hit.”

Riley beams, looking at Stormy with pure delight. “He’s perfect.”

Patrick gets home shortly after her, and the air changes. There’s an unmistakable tension between us after last night, a crackling undercurrent that I’m sure everyone can see. It seems so tangled and messy, but then there’s this thing between us—more real than anything I’ve felt my entire life.

I tune into the conversation just as Patrick leans against the kitchen counter, talking to Nora. “Looks like we might be on track for the Founder’s Day Festival. The town may not be in perfect condition, but everyone knows how important it is for the festival to take place, so I think we’re going to make it happen, come hell or high water.”

Nora claps her hands and turns to Riley. “This is great news for the pageant. And guess what?”

Riley grins at her older sister, the way the smile dents lines into her cheeks a carbon copy of Patrick’s. “Tell me.”

“Emmy is going to enter the pageant too! I bet every male within ten miles of here is going to be bidding for a date with her.”

“Wow, that’s great, Emmy! It’s for such a good cause.”

Stiffening, trying to look nonchalant as I ignore the sudden racing of my heart. Patrick is staring at me, but thankfully Ruby announces it’s time to eat.

“Are we waiting for Liam?” Riley glances at her watch.

There’s a quick dart of Ruby’s eyes toward Patrick before she answers, her voice too light and breezy. “Oh, he’ll be here soon, I’m sure. He told me not to wait.”

As we sit down for dinner, Patrick takes a seat directly across from me. Our eyes meet briefly, and I force a smile. The others talk about Paddy, sharing memories of a father, a son, and a husband, Ruby and Granny Sloane holding hands. We finish dinner and clear the table, me acutely aware of Patrick no matter where he is, before we settle into the living room.

Nora set up the old projector, and we all find places to sit, Patrick and I sharing the two-seater sofa, both being careful not to touch one another. Just as the movie is about to start, the front door opens, and Liam strolls in, his hair tousled, a grin on his face like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

Patrick’s face tightens. “Nice of you to finally come home. You missed Dad’s dinner.”

Liam looks contrite as he apologizes to his mom and Granny Sloane, grabbing a plate of leftovers and settling on the ground, leaning his back against the sofa closest to Nora. His presence adds another layer to the charged atmosphere, but Nora presses play, and the old film flickers to life on the screen against the wall.

Paddy, Patrick’s father, appears on the screen, handsome and full of life. He looks a lot like Nora, with blond curly hair cut short, and has Patrick’s face, tall and good looking in a way that means trouble, with a wicked glint in his eye. In the video, he’s playing ball with a much younger Patrick, teasing him and making him laugh. Kid Patrick glances right at us when the version of Ruby behind the camera calls his name.

For a moment, it’s like he’s looking into the room at the older version of himself, their blue eyes locking across the space between them, and Patrick stiffens beside me. Time folds in half, past and present meeting, and my heart aches for that little boy who lost his dad, bearing so much responsibility for a still-grieving family.

Ruby is crying and smiling, tears running down her cheeks as she says, “I miss him so much, my Paddy. Look how handsome he was.”

Riley, sitting next to her, looks wistful. “I wish I remembered him more. I was so young.”

“This video was taken only a couple of months before he died,” Granny Sloane says, wiping her own eyes, and I look up, thinking I’ve misheard. Patrick looks no older than eight or nine in the video. Was he really that young when he lost his father?

The family starts to reminisce, talking about how hard life was after Paddy died, but how they pulled through it together. Most of the stories focus on Patrick, all the ways he stepped up and shared the parenting burden, looking after his siblings when his mom and Granny Sloane were working.

There’s a deep, enduring love in their words, a strength forged in the crucible of loss, but my heart still hurts for that boy who never got to enjoy his childhood, who was forced to take on the role of man of the house before he’d even finished elementary school.

Patrick’s arm brushes against mine as he shifts in his seat, and I glance at him, losing myself for a few seconds in his gaze.

Ruby’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “We did it, though. We made it through as a family. And we’ll keep making it through, no matter what comes our way.”

We watch several more old videos until the clips end, and the room falls into quiet reflection. Looking around at their faces, seeing the love and resilience that binds them, despite everything they’ve been through, gives me a strange pang of longing.

As the projector clicks off and the lights come back on, I catch Patrick’s eye. The connection between us makes my heart flutter despite everything.