Page 45 of The Love Destroyers

She told me a bit about her father—not much, but more than I’m guessing she’s told anyone in a long time—and that felt best of all. Because Emma’s like me. She’ll talk a lot, sure, but she doesn’t usually share.

I don’t want her to go, and I also do. Because I’m confused by the way she makes me feel. Since leaving Pennsylvania, I’ve only made decisions based on three metrics.Will I enjoy it? Will it help my brother and sister? Will it land me in trouble?But I’ve made at least two completely illogical decisions today. Both because of her.

Anthony pats me on the back, which makes me feel like I have to puke on top of the head-caving-in feeling, and he and Rosie leave. Declan and Claire fuss over me, but when I insist that the only thing I want is to return to the apartment with Chuck so I can have some peace and quiet—a laughable thought given his love for conversation—they leave too.

“Well, my friend,” Chuck says, pulling on a hand-knit beanie that looks like something Claire might have made him in middle school. “It looks like we’re the last two standing. Now, let’s get on home, and I’ll make you some soup.”

And I puke on him in the lobby of the hospital.

CHAPTER TWELVE

SEAMUS

Conversation with Emma

I talked to Nicole. Your plan is ludicrous. My mother will compensate you for what you would have made next week. You shouldn’t be working.

So you unblocked me, huh?

We owe it to Shadow to keep an open line of communication.

But I’m guessing you shouldn’t be using your phone.

Probably not, but how hypocritical of you to say so given that you texted me.

It was a test. You failed. You should take the next couple of weeks off. Rest is the best cure.

Sorry, Dr. Google. I work for my keep.

You’re being a stubborn asshole.

Yes. They said it was only a mild concussion. A little rest, and I’ll be golden. I have until Friday.

You’ll be happy to know I have no intention of knocking down walls for any more women for the rest of the week.

I heard you puked on Chuck in the lobby of the hospital.

No big deal. He forgave me and offered me a mint.

Send me a photograph of Shadow. I want to make sure you’re treating him right.

Shadow’s a she.

Have you invaded the cat’s privacy to check?

It’s more of a soul-deep knowledge. But I’m confident the vet will confirm it.

What are you wearing? My soul would like that knowledge.

You’re ridiculous.

Obviously.

[Sends photo of the cat next to a large T-shirt]

You gave her a shirt?

That’s what I was wearing. ;-)

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