Page 1 of Drowning

Prologue

E m e r s o n

December

Gentle hands rove over my body, attempting to slide beneath my snug black dress. I try to evade the touch, but I'm gently pulled and turned around, my back pressed against the door of my bedroom.

"Not now, Damon," I say to my long-time boyfriend, trying to compose myself before going back downstairs.

"It'll help get your mind off things," he tells me with a smile, evoking memories of the boy I fell in love with years ago, the same melting glint in his hazel eyes.

But he's not that same boy anymore.

And I'm not that same girl anymore.

A lot's changed between us, and around us, cracking the comfortable foundation we built together.

When I don't respond, his expression transforms into anger as he pushes off the door behind me.

"It's always 'not right now,' Emerson. Damn it, I have fucking needs too," he states before grabbing his black hoodie and storming out, leaving me reeling against the wall from the force of the door slamming behind him.

The sound echoes in my ears long after he's gone, and with my back pressed against the wall, I sink to the floor, shaking, with tears streaming down my face, smudging the hours of makeup I carefully applied. My long chestnut curls are tangled from Damon's grip.

But at this moment, my appearance is inconsequential.

Nothing matters anymore.

My parents are gone, never coming back. They won't care about how I look because they're not here to see me.

The pain of their loss pierces my heart once more, as I obsess over the fatal car accident that ended their lives, leaving my brother and me all alone.

Now I'm trapped here with a boyfriend who can't comprehend my grief or support me when I need him the most.

I wipe away my tears and stand up, realizing that I need to be strong for Eli and myself, even though I can't see how that's fucking possible.

The music from downstairs fills the house—my parents' song—serving as a reminder of their absence.

I need to escape.

Flinging open my bedroom door with tear-blurred vision, I collide with a solid chest, my nose taking the brunt of the impact.

"Fuck!" I exclaim, tears clouding my vision and making it difficult to discern who it is… Yet I know without a doubt just by the way he smells.

"Apologies, Emerson," Seven, my brother's best friend, says as he steadies me with his hands on my shoulders.

"I'm fine. I just didn't see you there," I say, wiping the tears from my eyes as the world comes back into focus. "What are you doing up here?"

"Checking on you. We saw Damon leave, so I wanted to make sure you're okay," he explains, his smile causing my broken heart to flutter.

Seven— eleven years my senior—has always been off-limits. With piercing blue eyes reminiscent of the ocean, light hair just long enough to pull, and a perfectly tanned, tattooed physique, he's undeniably attractive. Yet anything beyond a platonic relationship between us would irrevocably upset Eli.

"Are you okay?" Seven asks, bringing me back to the present, standing at the top of the stairs.

"Not really, but I will be," I admit, feeling submerged in sorrow yet hoping I can overcome it.

"Did he hurt you?" His voice becomes hushed, ensuring no one in my family downstairs can overhear.

I shake my head, wishing to put it behind me. "No, he's just upset," I say, brushing it off and attempting to walk past him.

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