Page 71 of Second to None

I’d known it would end this way. So what if this time, I’d been first to pull the trigger?

* * *

Emily venturedinto the kitchen a good while later, a disgruntled hedgehog in search of sustenance. I got her settled with some cut-up fruit and toast, then watched her jab at an apple slice with a fork, as though the fruit owed her an apology for the fact that mornings were a thing that existed.

Once my parents left to buy groceries for our last day here, Emily seemed to wake up in slow increments. It took about five minutes before she blinked around the kitchen, listened briefly, and then turned sleepy eyes on me. “Where’s Cass?”

I clung to a smile. “He had to go, love. Catch his flight.”

She put down her fork with a soft clank of metal on the wooden tabletop. “But he didn’t say goodbye!”

“He, uh.” My throat hurt.Everythinghurt. “Something came up. He was in a bit of a hurry.”

Emily’s lips pursed. She didn’t look sleepy anymore, brows pulling together for a stormy, stubborn look. “But he said he wouldn’t make you sad again.”

When…? Oh. When he’d picked me up for our first dinner date, back in LA. Another broken promise, only it was my fault, too—I never should have handed him that much power over me. I should have knownbetter.

And yet I didn’t want Emily to hate him.

“I don’t think he meant to,” I managed, words forced up from the deepest pit of my stomach. Still. Intentions mean sod all when the result’s the same.

“But heleft,” Emily said, thick with indignation. “Why did he leave?”

“Because I told him to go,” I said, and it dropped like a stone in a quiet pond, sending outwards ripples along its surface. Fuck, I shouldn’t have told her. She was only seven, too young to understand that sometimes, life wasn’t bloody fair.

Except she knew. She’d learned that when Jessica died.

Emily absorbed that, the idea that I’d told Cass to go when I’d wanted—I… It didn’t matter.

“Did you get scared?” she asked slowly, like somewhere in her head, it was an idea that slotted into place and it all made sense. “Cass said he got really scared last time, but now he’s brave.”

Dammit, Cass. When did you say that?

“It’s not about being scared.” Air whistled through the gaping hole in my chest and made it just a little hard to speak. “He made a promise, and he broke it.”

“Oh.” She nodded, nose scrunching. “That’s bad. Promises are important.”

Like the promises I’d made to her mum. I inhaled around the raw ache, and God, I was doing my best. Wasn’t I?

“Yeah,” I said. “They really are.”

“That sucks.” Ah, kid wisdom. Emily picked up a slice of pear and turned it over with a subdued air, clearly still thinking it over. “So because he broke a promise, and that’s bad, you both have to be sad now?”

She made it sound much simpler than it was. I nodded anyway. “Yeah.”

“How do you know, like…” She stopped, a small world of heartbreak in her voice. “Promises are important. But isn’t it also important you’re happy? When Mum—” A catch in her breath, then she continued. “Before Mum left, she said, um...”

“Oh,honey.”I was out of my chair and by Emily’s side in a second, pulled her into my arms and held on. She was breathing a little too fast, in small hiccups, and, yeah, wow, it was possible for my heart to break just a little more.

“She said,” Emily started again, stubborn, face pressed against my chest, “that she wants me to be happy. That’s all she wants for me.”

Oh, Jesus. I bit the inside of my cheek, focused on the sting of pain to force back the tears. It wasn’t that we never spoke about Jessica—I’d always wanted Emily to remember just how much her mother had loved her. But usually, Emily went quiet when I brought up a memory, things Jessica had said or done, her laugh, how much she’d loved squirrels, of all things. Emily always listened with rapt attention, eyes big and a little wet, but she was never first to bring up her mum. This was… new.

“I know, honey.” I wrapped my arms just a little tighter around Emily’s small frame. “She made me promise that I’d do everything in my power to make that happen for you.”

It wasn’t the only promise I’d made. But it was the one that mattered the most.

Emily was silent for a long moment, hands fisted in my T-shirt. “So,” she said then, almost inaudibly, “if it’s really important that we’re happy, right? Then isn’t it… You smilelotswith Cass. And he’s really nice. So what if he says he’s sorry about the promise? Like really, really sorry? Can he come back then?”

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