make her happy, give her the things she needed. Someone who could take her to an actual doctor when she was sick. Someone who could feed her. Someone who could face her.
Weak .
He couldn’t keep running forever.
Pathetic .
Sooner or later he’d have to go home. And knowing Em, it should be sooner because she was probably worried sick.
Loser.
She deserved so much better.
Chapter Ten
Em
At some point she must have dozed off because when she woke the house was dark. Em stretched her neck, which had been bent at an awkward angle, and froze. The soft click of the front door shutting sounded through the silent house.
“Jay?”
All she could make out was a dark form cast in shadows. It halted in the entryway at the sound of her voice. She couldn’t see his face, but she felt his eyes on her. For the longest time, they just stared at each other. Jay broke first, dropping his keys on the small table against the wall before hustling through the living room and down the hall without a word.
Cautiously, Em peeled herself off of the sofa and trailed after him. When she reached the bedroom, he was already sprawled face down on the mattress. Quietly tugging off her jeans, Em climbed in beside him and waited. She was desperate to know what was going through his mind, where he’d been, how he was feeling, but afraid of pushing too hard, she didn’t ask. He would talk to her when he was ready. He would hold her close and share his words, and hurts, and fears with her, and then she would kiss them all away. That was how they operated. That was how this went. So, she waited. And waited . . . And waited.
***
Em rolled toward Jay’s side of the bed and nearly choked on panic when she found the sheets cold and vacant. Struggling upright, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she scanned the room. No Jay.
Her feet made quick work of kicking back the covers, and she slipped them into a pair of old slippers before racing down the hall . She was headed to check the drive for Jay’s truck when she found him in the kitchen, standing over the stove.
“What are you doing?” Em leaned into the doorframe, watching him work and trying to get her erratic breathing under control.
From the way his head was bent over the pan, it was hard to tell what he was thinking with his hair shielding most of his face.
“Making breakfast.” His voice was cold and flat, but she was just glad to hear it.
“Where’d you get—?”
“It’s payday. I went shopping.” He was quiet for a minute as he flipped the bacon, still refusing to look her way. “I saw the biscuits in the trash. You didn’t eat yesterday.”
Neither had he, but that wasn’t the point. “Jay? Are you all right?”
He glanced up from the stove, looking incredulous. “Am I all right? You’re asking if I’m all right?”
Em only nodded, not sure how to proceed. Easing away from the wall, she inched further into the room.
“Are you all right?” Discarding the spatula on the counter, he turned to face her fully, immediately zeroing in on the small cut on her lip.
Grease splattered across the surface and up the wall, but all Em saw were his shadowed, red-rimmed eyes. She hadn’t heard him cry. It hurt her to think that he could have been in that kind of pain all night while she’d slept right beside him, unaware. Useless.
“I’m fine, Jay. I know you didn’t mean—”
“Don’t! Don’t make excuses, Em. Never make excuses for someone who hurts you. There is no excuse. And once you start, it’s too easy to keep doing it. Do you understand me?”
Em couldn’t answer. This was ridiculous. It was like saying the guy who bumps into you in a crowded hallway is somehow out to get you, but Jay looked so serious, she knew this went much deeper than that. His mother had made excuses for things that were inexcusable. This wasn’t the same, but he couldn’t see the difference.
“Do you understand me, Em?”
“Yes.” What else could she