Page 55 of It's Not Home Without You

“Do you want me to leave?” I asked once we were alone. “I’m sorry for overstepping.” I went to grab my purse, feeling ashamed. All I wanted was for Emma to seize her chance at love, not for her to hate me. I wanted her to have what I had lost.

“Dammit, I can’t do it. I can’t stay mad.” Emma fisted her hands. “That was shitty. You left me there with him. After I punched him!”

“Did it suck?” When she didn’t immediately answer,I pursed my lips to stop myself from smiling.

“That’s not the point.” She waved her arms in the air. “You didn’t ask me.”

“You would have said no.”

“I wouldn’t have.”

I stared at her, crossed my arms, and waited.

“Okay, I would have. Next time you set Dex and me on a date, at least warn me first.”

“Are you saying you’re open to another date? I can pass the word along,” I teased.

Emma threw coffee grounds at me. Despite the easiness of our conversation, I still felt tense. I knew it had to do with knowing her business was failing.

“Max stopped by.” Emma handed me a mocha coffee. I had to give it to her, she had a talent for knowing what kind of drink you needed. Chocolate and caffeine worked best when they were together.

“Max always stops by,” I added nonchalantly.

Emma pointed to the blackboard. If she thought it was worth mentioning, I prepared myself to read the words he had written.

Be careful with your words. Once they are said, they can only be forgiven not forgotten. I knew what Max was talking about. He was talking about that freaking note I left him.

“You want to talk about it?”

I shook my head. “He’s engaged to Abigail of all people. There’s nothing to talk about.”

Emma hugged me while we pretended that the words on the blackboard weren’t haunting me and I acted like I didn’t know her secret. Today was not a good day.

“Wow, who is that?”Emma was swooning, and she never swooned. I was cleaning mugs when I looked up to see who had Emma drooling.

The cup in my hands fell and shattered. I guess it was for the best. It was like the universe was doing me a solid before I could throw it across the room at Ashton’s face. All the time we were together, not once did he ever visit me at work. He didn’t bring me lunch.Do you know what he would do? He sent me flowers. All. The. Time. Now thatwe were over, it was like he couldn’t get enough of me. He even came across the country for me.

Unbelievable.

I tried to see Ashton through Emma’s eyes, and I guess he was swoon-worthy. Brown hair with a tint of red, lean, fit, green eyes, and a sharp jaw. On the outside, Ashton was a catch, but to make a relationship work, it took more than a pretty face. Why didn’t he get that some lovely words would not change my mind? Beautiful words weren’t enough to hide the emptiness that was our relationship. Sometimes welatched on to people because some attention was better than no affection. Grasping at straws, I led myself into a relationship that would never work. I guess that was what happened when you were a ghost; you didn’t need much to make it work since you weren’t even there.

“What are you doing here, Ashton?” I asked as I swept up the broken mug.

My ex-boyfriend stopped at the counter his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. “I missed you, Freya.” His voice was sincere. “Can we talk? Please.”

I was about to say no, but I had a feeling he would keep insisting, and there were things I had to tell him.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” I got out to sit at a table with him, but he shook his head.

“I made reservations tomorrow at seven, at that little restaurant across the street.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. Franny’s wasn’t a little restaurant; it was the fanciest one in town.

“Sure,” I said, annoyed it was so like him to make plans, not caring if I could do it or not. Both Emma and I watched him leave. The few people who passed by him stared, but that was Ash, he commanded attention.

“That was your boyfriend? Why’d you let him go? He’s dreamy.” Emma stood on her Chuck-covered tiptoes to watch Ashton cross the street.

I turned around, resting my back on the counter. “He was fucking his secretary on our couch.”

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