When We Are Enough (Valiant Hearts #1)

48. Emmy

Chapter 48

Emmy

S tanding on the long stretch of boardwalk under the churning clouds, people walking past, me staring at Patrick’s face, at the tortured blue of his eyes, the dark stubble along his jaw, the flop of his brown hair.

He’s so beautiful I can barely breathe if I look at him too long, knowing I’m the one causing him pain. It kills me to end things, but it’s what I need to do.

My mother embarrassing me like that at Granny Sloane’s house, revealing just how messed up I am to the O’Connors, forced my hand. It was the final straw, and everything is breaking apart around me, including my comfortable life here in Harbor’s Edge, a place I’d fooled myself into believing could be home.

And here I am, pushing away the one person who brought me back to life, the one person who made me feel .

I’m so... angry. I’m livid. Furious at everyone and everything.

As Patrick stares at me, waiting for me to say something, the bars across my heart finally unhinge against the pressure that’s been building. All the neat boxes I’ve carefully tucked my emotions into crack open. I’m a volcano about to explode, a seething mass of anger and pain, ready to erupt with the force of a thousand broken hearts.

“You just don’t get it,” I say, my voice rising. “My parents shouldn’t have said those things to your family. I’m so angry at them! But I’m also mad at you, Patrick. You kept asking questions, pushing me to open up. Do you have any idea how hard it was last night? And then them turning up here this morning… I didn’t want Ruby or Granny Sloane to know about my past. It’s humiliating! And now it’s all out there.”

“They won’t care,” he says, getting to his feet, arms open like he’s about to pull me to him. “There’s nothing humiliating about what you’ve been through. Trust me, they think you’re amazing. You’re part of the family now, and nothing your mom can say will change that.”

“How could they not care?” My voice is a shout, raw and trembling with fury. “It’s over. Us. My job with your family. It’s all over!”

Patrick’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t interrupt. The family on the pier are openly staring now, but I don’t care. I can’t stop.

“I’ve tried so hard to keep things under control, to not make a scene, but look at me!” I gesture wildly, feeling the hot sting of tears in my eyes. “I’m exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid! A mess. A problem. A disappointment!”

The wind picks up, blowing strands of hair across my face, but I ignore it, too caught up in my rant, in the burning intensity of the anger pouring out of my mouth, my eyes, dripping from the tension tightening every muscle.

“I thought coming here was my chance to start over, to escape the drama, but it’s all followed me.” My voice has reached a fever pitch, each word shouted. “I’m so mad at myself for letting this happen, for thinking I could ever be anything more than this broken person who brings chaos wherever she goes.”

May Chen walks past again with her little dog. She slows, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity, looking like she wants to intervene and ask if everything is okay. But as she takes in the rawness of the scene, she seems to think better of it and keeps walking, her steps quickening to get away from me.

I’m so wrapped up in the red heat of my anger that I don’t even care. The world could be falling apart around me, another hurricane bearing down on us, and it wouldn’t matter. All that exists in this moment is the fire inside me, the pain forcing its way out, uncontrolled and uncontrollable.

Patrick steps closer, his hand reaching out, hovering in the air. “What chaos? You’re the opposite of chaos, babe. Everything you’ve done for Granny Sloane, helping out after the hurricane... You’re amazing. I’m sorry if you think I pushed you too hard to open up. What can I do? Do you want me to speak to my Mom? My sister? We can work this out, I promise you.”

Anger flashes in my eyes. “You don’t get it. It’s not about talking to them. It’s about me. It’s about my parents showing up and making me realize I don’t belong here, not really. I was fooling myself. I can’t do this. I can’t drag you into my mess or hurt you and your family.”

Patrick shakes his head, desperation creeping into his voice. “Okay, okay. What if we find you somewhere else to stay? Just for a short while, until things settle down. You can stay at the motel in town. I’ll pay for everything, handle everything, you can just take a few days or however long you need. We can figure it out together.”

“You think hiding from your family for a few days is going to fix this? That’s not the solution. Just let me go!”

Patrick steps even closer, not touching me even though I can see how much he wants to. “What if we, I don’t know… go to therapy? Together. We can talk to someone. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just don’t leave. Don’t give up on us.”

His words leave a bitter taste in my mouth, anger boiling through me. “I’ve been to therapy. It’s not that simple. I’m broken. I’ve been broken for a long time, and it’s clear now I can’t be fixed.”

“You’re not broken. You’re strong, and you’re capable of getting through this. We can do it together. Please, just stay. We’ll figure it out, I swear.”

I step back, my body shaking, fists clenched by my side. “Just stop! Stop trying to fix everything! You can’t fix me. I don’t want to be fixed. I just want to be left alone!”

The surrounding air shimmers and vibrates, hot and toxic. Under the surface of my skin, stretched taut over the bones of my back, my limbs, there is an intense energy building up that could destroy me completely, and several shuddering breaths roll across my shoulders.

His face is a mask of pain, his voice breaking when he finally speaks. “I love you. I just want to help. Please. Don’t do this. We’ve come so far. We can’t end it like this. Let me help you. Let me be there for you.”

For a moment we look at one another. The lines on Patrick’s face stand out in sharp relief as the quiet grows, accentuating his pain and my anger. The world around us blurs into nothingness. There’s just the two of us. I take a half step forward, staring at the blue of his eyes. He’s so good, pure.

“You can’t help me,” I say in a low voice, several inches of charged space between our hands, our bodies. “I’m broken. You know how I said I don’t cut myself anymore? That might be true, but the urges are still there. How does that make you feel?”

He stares at me. Swallows. The silence is suffocating, pressing against my ears and chest with a weight that threatens to crush me.

“Like I want to help you. Like it doesn’t matter. Like I love you no matter what.”

“Listen to me! Please, listen! I need you to hear this: I don’t need your help!” The words tearing out of me from some dark, hidden place, too loud. “I just need you to understand that this isn’t going to work. I’m always going to hurt you. I’m always going to ruin things.”

The silence that follows is deafening, the air between us crackling. The family on the pier exchange glances and start to move away. I look at them briefly, but all I can focus on is Patrick standing there, looking at me with an expression of utter heartbreak.

My chest heaves with the effort of my emotions, and for a moment, I feel hollowed out.

Patrick’s voice grates over the raw of his throat. “Emmy, please...”

But I can’t stay. I can’t risk hurting him like this. Hurting his family. Turning, walking away, my steps quick and unsteady. I don’t look back, even though every part of me is screaming to run back to him, to say sorry and tell him I didn’t mean it. But I can’t. I’ve said too much. I’ve revealed too much. And now, all I can do is keep moving forward, alone.

Each faltering step hurts my aching heart. The anger that consumed me just moments ago has left a strange emptiness, a void.

Reaching Betty, getting in, starting the engine, my hands trembling as the adrenaline starts to recede. As I drive away, the familiar streets of Harbor’s Edge blur past. The shaking subsides, the pain of losing Patrick and the life I was building lancing through me, making me bleed from the inside out.

The road curves and bends and I reach the lookout, the same spot I stopped at when I first arrived at Harbor’s Edge—a moment that feels like a lifetime ago. I pull over and step out of Betty, the wind tugging at my hair, the harbor stretching out endlessly before me, the surface pricked with sparkling diamonds.

I look down at Harbor’s Edge, the quaint little town I’ve come to love, come to think of as home , a place I don’t want to leave, and my mother’s words echo in my mind, how I should avoid triggers so I don’t have another episode . The humiliation of her saying that to Ruby, Nora and Granny Sloane burns.

What I said to Patrick quickly follows, like an echo chamber, how I still get urges to cut sometimes, even though I’ve got the tools to help me through it. I said those horrible, terrible words to him, said them out loud.

I can see the town, the life I began to build, but it’s slipping further and further away, already out of reach. There’s no going back, no immersing myself in that sense of belonging again, losing myself in Patrick’s arms, in the strong heat of him.

It’s time to say goodbye to Harbor’s Edge, head to my parents’ house, give notice of my resignation, and figure out what the hell I do next.