Page 55 of Lose You to Find Me

And another.

Until I’m tearing the corkboard off the wall and throwing it onto the floor with hands shaking from anger.

With blurry eyes, I stare at the ruined images scattered on the carpet. “Stupid,” I whisper to myself. “You were sostupid.”

Clenching my eyes closed to stop the tears from falling, I inhale deeply and kick the corkboard before dropping onto the edge of my bed and staring at the mess I made.

My whole body is shaking, making me wrap my arms around myself and squeeze.

I’mangry.

For the losses I’ve suffered.

For the sacrifices I’ve had to make.

I endured so much and had nobody to help me get through it. And the worst part? Nobody can, especially not now.

My bodyfailed me, and I have no control over it. No answers. No relief. I’ve had to silently grieve the loss of two different lives—the one of the baby I’d never get to know, and the one of the person I was before I ever found out. Because the moment I heard the news, I realized I’d never be the same.

Standing, I sniff back tears and step on the pictures as I walk out of my bedroom.

Mom is gone again.

No note.

No text.

No phone call.

She’s probably with Dad.

Feeling suffocated in the house, unable to be on my own right now, I walk outside to see an unfamiliar vehicle pull up at the front curb. My eyebrows dart up when I see Emma step out of the driver’s side and round the front of the car. When she sees me, she looks as on guard as I am, and that’s when I know we’re aware of the other person’s involvement with Caleb.

Rubbing my arm with my good hand, I take a deep breath so she doesn’t see the breakdown I’m on the verge of and walk over to her. “Hi.”

Her gray eyes go from me to the house, then back to me again. Does she see the defeat in my eyes? The exhaustion? Or does she see someone who helped hurt her with the boy she obviously has a thing for? I could see it when she touched his arm to walk him out of the room.

“I asked around to get your address. Hope that’s okay.”

Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I release it and say, “I guess that depends on if you’re here to hit me or not.”

Emma smiles faintly. “You’re safe. I’ve never been much of a fighter.”

Me either. I guess Caleb has a type.

We’re quiet, staring at each other.

Then I say, “I didn’t know.”

She doesn’t need me to elaborate.

“Neither did I,” she replies. There’s a pause, more shifting in discomfort. “Or maybe I did in a way. Subconsciously, I knew Caleb still loved you.”

I don’t tell her about my cluelessness to her presence in his life because it wouldn’t do any good now. Why keep hurting people’s feelings with the truth if a lie could save them even the slightest bit of pain?

“I have something for you,” she tells me, walking over to the back door of her car.

I gape at the wiggling gray puppy she takes into her arms that’s licking her face. “Oh my God,” I whisper, walking over to get a better look. “I didn’t think you’d still sell me one after the hospital. I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

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