When We Are Enough (Valiant Hearts #1)

47. Patrick

Chapter 47

Patrick

W ith a promise to come over tomorrow, I leave Joe and head to the fire station. It’s still early, and the station is quiet, giving me a moment to catch up on emails for my fire consulting work.

We need the money now more than ever, and the distraction helps me set aside my concerns about Joe and Emmy and Mom’s house and her gallery and Liam and the million other worries racing through my head.

Diving into the sea of messages, my phone buzzes. Nora’s name flashes on the screen. I ignore the call and text her that I’ll call back soon. I need to get this work done before the fellas arrive.

A short time later, she calls again, and I let it go to voicemail. Frustration gnaws at me, the need for some peace becoming more urgent. I just want a moment to breathe, to focus. I’m used to multitasking, but lately it’s like I’m pulled in a hundred different directions.

I type furiously, trying to finish up the last of the emails when the crew starts to arrive. The station fills with the familiar sounds of banter and laughter, the smell of coffee wafting through the air. I close my laptop, the tension in my shoulders knotting tighter. I made a dent in the work, but it wasn’t enough.

“Morning, Chief,” one of the guys says, clapping me on the back.

“Morning,” I reply, forcing a smile. “Let’s get to work.”

We’re going through the morning briefing, and I glance out the large window overlooking the street as a baby-blue VW beetle pulls up outside. The driver’s door opens and Emmy steps out, looking beautiful against the fall leaves and overcast sky. She turns to face the station and the minute I see her expression, it’s clear something is wrong.

“I’ll be just a minute,” I say to my crew, heading outside, fully aware that they can all see us and are probably watching through the window. It’s not often that pretty girls visit me at work.

We stop a few feet from one another on the sidewalk, the station looming behind us. The air is cold, clouds moving overhead, the deep green branches of a pine shifting in the wind in my periphery.

Swallowing, wanting to reach for her, to kiss away the pain in her eyes. My gaze flicks to the VW. “Hey, you got your car back.”

“Yeah.” The focus of her gaze shifts to the back seat where a bag is visible.

“Are you going somewhere? Is everything okay?”

She looks at me for a long moment, and a sad breath jerks over her ribs. It takes every ounce of strength for me not to pull her into my arms. “Yes. No. Look, can we talk?”

“Can we walk down the road a little? We’ve got an audience here.”

She nods, and we walk in silence until we reach the boardwalk, my worry growing with every step. Something is up, and after the way things ended last night, it has to do with us. There’s no other explanation.

We walk side by side a short distance, the air filled with the scent of salt and seaweed, the distant cries of seagulls echoing over the water, before settling on a wooden bench facing the harbor. My mouth is dry as I wait for her to speak.

Water churns against the pier, small waves rolling up the beach and receding, their rhythm steady and relentless. The sky is a gray canvas, the water reflecting the stark austerity of it all, but even the oddly beautiful scene can’t ease the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest.

May Chen, who owns the second-hand bookstore a couple of doors down from Mom’s gallery, walks past, a soft leather leash attached to her fluffy black poodle. She raises a hand at us as she passes, while a young family steps onto the pier, wrapped up in warm jackets against the morning chill. People walk past us, some drinking coffee in takeaway mugs, others with cell phones out, snapping photos.

Emmy looks away, taking a deep breath, her eyes locked on a seagull circling over the water. “I’m so sorry, but I’m heading away for the weekend with my parents and sister. And… I think it might be better if we end things now, before we get in any deeper. I think I should probably put in notice of my resignation, too.”

The seagull shrieks and tears off, wheeling on the wind, as the world shrinks, pressing in on me from above, the sides. Time stutters, everything slowing down as my stupid brain tries to process what she’s just said.

Her parents are here? She wants to end things? None of it makes any sense. There’s been this distance between us since last night, but that doesn’t mean that it’s over. Right?

“What? I don’t understand.”

Her tongue darts out, wetting the plump of her rosebud lips. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m so sorry.” She won’t meet my eyes.

A frantic feeling claws at my insides. “After everything, you’re just going to end it like this? I know that conversation at the lighthouse was hard for you, but it doesn’t mean we need to stop seeing one another. I’m ready. I’m ready to show you how committed I am to you. I’m not going to let you just walk out of here. ”

She stares at me, her hazel eyes darkening. I reach for her hand, and she lets me hold it.

“We can go home and tell my mom about us. Go public. She loves you. She’ll get used to this idea, trust me. I’m going to figure out a way to balance everything, so I’ve got time for you and work. We’ll figure this out, I promise.”

“I can’t. Please. I’m done.” She tugs her hand out of my grasp. “I’m going to tender my resignation and what’s between us has to end.”

“What? Why?” The pain cuts sharp and deep, straight to my heart.

Her voice is strained as she drops her gaze to her lap. “It’s for the best. I’m no good for you or your family.”

This can’t be happening. I don’t know how to do this without her. She’s the light that pushes away all the dark. “Please, tell me what’s going on. I could tell you were pulling away last night, but I didn’t expect this. We can figure it out.”

Emmy shakes her head, turning her gaze to meet mine, anguish darkening the green streaks of her hazel eyes. “I just... I can’t do this. I don’t want to cause more trouble. I’m sorry.”

“If this is about your parents, about your sister, we can work through this together. You’re stronger than you know. You’re allowed to tell your sister how angry you are about what happened with your fiancé. And if you need support, I’m here for you. We can face them together.” I pause, staring at her, taking in every detail of her beautiful face, swallowing hard. “I love you.”

“You don’t understand. I’m just going to hurt you and your family.”

My voice breaks. “You’re the best thing to happen to me in a long time. You’re the bit of happiness I allowed myself. You’re not going to hurt me. You make life a thousand times better. We can work this out.”

For a moment, I see it there in the depths of her eyes—the love she feels for me, the same love that’s tearing me apart. But she’s already standing, pulling away from me.

“Just let me go.” Her voice is louder than before, and the family on the pier has stopped, turning to look in our direction. “You don’t get it and you never will. You handle everything. You’re reliable. All I’m going to do is ruin the careful balance you’re always trying to maintain. There is no balance when I’m around.”

She stands there looking defiant, as though daring me to disagree with her. All the wind has been knocked out of my chest, an aching pain spreading hard and fast. I reach for her, but she steps away, widening the gap between us.