Page 27 of Between Here and There

I chuckle at the way she describes her friends, but something about her tone makes me pause. “And you?” I ask. “Who takes care of you?”

Emily stops mid-bite, the wafer stick between her lips. She takes a bite and slowly lowers the wafer, chewing thoughtfully before responding. Her eyes dart to me as she mutters, “I make sure no one has to.” There’s a smile on her face, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

The way she says it hits me in a place I wasn’t expecting. There’s strength in her words, but also a kind of loneliness. I know that it isn’t about her alcohol intake, it’s about the need to always be the one holding things together, the glue that keeps everyone from falling apart. I know because… I feel the same way. All the responsibility and no one to share the burden with.

“That sounds exhausting,” I say, trying to keep things light. It’s starting to hit closer to home, and I can’t have that. I don’t think of stuff like that.

Emily shrugs, looking away, her eyes wandering around the store like she’s searching for an escape. “You get used to it,” she says, like trying to convince herself more than me. She starts fidgeting with the edge of her tank top.

Damn it. She doesn’t know that she’s an open book. I can see that this obviously bothers her, and I know I could stop here. I don’t have to push any further or go any deeper. It’s what I always do anyway. Deflect. But tonight feels different. She feels different. There’s something in the way her shoulders carry that invisible weight, in the way she brushes it off like it doesn’t matter, that makes me want to meddle. Something in me wants to reach out and be the person she doesn’t have to pretend around.

I prop my leg up on the couch and put my arm on the backrest to face her. “Tell you what,” I say. “Let’s make a deal.”

Emily raises an eyebrow, curious but wary. “What deal?” she asks, tucking one leg under her as she turns toward me. Her bun is starting to unravel, strands of hair falling loose around her face. She reaches up to pull the hair tie free, slipping it onto her wrist before running a hand through her hair.

It’s the simplest gesture, but it’s so incredibly attractive. Yes. That’s exactly what this is. I’m just physically attracted to her. Whatever this thing in my chest is, it’s just an itch. One I won’t ever scratch.

“Hello?” Emily asks. Looks like I’ve been staring at her for a while, so I flash a smile and continue.

“While we’re here in Manila, doing… whatever this is,” I chuckle, gesturing to the two of us. “Let me help you.”

“Help me how?” she asks.

“Next time you feel like you have to take care of everyone else, let me step in. I’ll take care of them…” I look at her intently, the store suddenly quieter than it was. “And you.”

It’s quiet, and Emily is staring at me like I said something weird. She leans closer and says, “Why?”

“Because…” I don’t even know what the answer is, but I say, “it’s what a good fake boyfriend would do.”

Emily blinks, then snorts, the corners of her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You’re ridiculous,” she says.

“Ridiculously helpful,” I quip, leaning back with a smirk.

“I might just take you up on that offer, you know.” Emily smiles knowingly.

“Good. I hope you do,” I raise my bottle. She lifts her chocolate milk in response, and the clink of our drinks is the only sound we hear in the quiet store.

We spend the next few minutes just talking about things, like we did during our Manhattan escapade. But this time, we didn’t have to omit personal stories. In fact, we talk about everything from the time we left Magnolia Heights.

For the first time since I arrived here, I finally feel like I want to rest, like my body is finally relaxing. So I lean into the couch, and Emily follows my lead, settling into the cushions beside me. Her shoulder brushes mine, a small, comfortable touch that grounds me more than I expected.

“Are you nervous about seeing Rob for the first time since the breakup?” I glance down at Emily, who’s fidgeting with her empty milk carton.

“Yes and no,” she says. When I raise my eyebrows, she continues. “Yes, because I don’t know what I’d feel when I see him. I’m not a big feelings person and I don’t usually react much, but I’ve also never been cheated on before, so I don’t know how I’ll handle that,” she says. “And no, because, well, I want him to be bothered by me.”

I nod, proud of her. “Did you two even talk about seeing each other again? I mean, it’s only been weeks since the breakup,” I say. My question comes out before I can stop it, though I’m not sure why I’m so interested. Maybe it’s curiosity. Or maybe I’m just trying to be prepared—researching, if you will—so I can play the part of a convincing fake boyfriend.

Emily lets out a dry chuckle and says, “Yeah. He even gave me the impression that he might propose to me soon. He talked about our future. I even bought a dress and everything.” She shrugs.

“A dress? That’s a bold move,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.

“It’s a smart move!” she counters, a smile playing on her lips. “I didn’t want to be unprepared when he asked me out to dinner and proposed to me,” Emily chuckles. “But it seems ridiculous now.”

“The dress?”

“Oh, no. The dress is beautiful,” she says with a laugh.

“Pretty sure it’s you and not the dress,” I say, unable to hide my attraction once again.

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