Page 37 of Only When It Breaks

That makes her go quiet. She presses her cheek back to my chest, and I hold her a little tighter. I think she might fall asleep, but then she speaks, soft, cautious.

“I didn’t want my mum with your dad because,” She swallows. “Because I’ve seen what happens when she picks the wrong guy.” I don’t interrupt; I just listen. “My dad was the first. He used to hit her. Slam doors. Break things. Then cry and beg and do it all over again. I was seven the first time I saw her with a black eye.” Her voice wobbles, but she keeps going. “After him, there were others. Different faces. Same damage. And each one chipped away at her a little more. Until one day she just wasn’theranymore.” I feel my gut twist. “She only just started smiling again this year,” she says, almost like she’s trying to convince herself. “And then Joel came a long and I wanted him to prove me wrong. When we saw the mess, the broken plates, it just all came back. And I can’t let her fall again. Not this time. Not when she barely made it back before.”

“Em,” I whisper. “I didn’t know.”

She nods. “Nobody does. I didn’t want to be the girl with the battered mum. So, I acted like we were normal.”

I rest my hand over hers. “You didn’t act. Youarenormal. Normal and strong as hell.”

She gives me a tired look. “You’re gonna make me cry again.”

“Sorry.” I half smile. “Can I tell you something? About Joel.” She shifts beside me like she’s bracing for it. “He wasn’t always like this. Honestly. When I was a kid, he was great. The dad who made pancakes with faces and ran around the yard with water guns. He used to sing in the car like an idiot. He treated my mum like gold.”

“So what happened?” she whispers.

“She left,” I say. “When I was sixteen. Just packed up and disappeared. No warning, no goodbye. We woke up one day and she was gone.”

Emmie looks up. “Why?”

“No idea. She left a note that said,‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore.’And that was it. She changed her number, movedaway, cut ties. She doesn’t even want to see me. I tried. Believe me.”

“That’s awful,” she says, her voice barely a whisper.

“Yeah. Joel unravelled after that. Started drinking. Got angry. Lost his job for a while. I think he really thought she was it, you know? Like once she left, he just couldn’t figure out how to be.”

She’s silent for a moment, before saying, “So we’re both scared of our parents breaking the people we love.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

Her fingers curl around mine. “I don’t hate you, Kai. I was just hurt. And mad. And stupid.”

“I know,” I say. “And I don’t hate you either. Not even when you’re being a smart-arse.”

She smiles into my hoodie, and it’s the first time all night she’s looked like herself again.

She tips her head back, and our eyes meet, for a second; I think she’s going to speak, but instead, she tugs my head closer until our lips are just a breath apart. “Kiss me.”

It’s the words I didn’t know how much I needed until she said them out loud and I slam my lips to hers in a bruising kiss. She returns it with just as much hunger, her fingers raking through my hair as she twists against me.

My hands grip her waist, but I slow it down, making it softer. I want her to know she’s important to me, and not just some girl at a party.

She pulls back just enough to whisper, “I want you.”

My heart stutters. “Em -”

“I want you to show me.” Her voice is barely there. “I’ve never, yah know.”

She doesn’t need to say it. I see the nerves in her eyes, feel the shift in the air between us. I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in. “It’s been a long night, Em and your head is all over the place. You’ll regret this tomorrow.”

“Please,” she murmurs, and I gasp as her hand strokes over my shorts.

I close my eyes for a minute, trying to regain some control as her hand continues to explore me. “Is this okay?” she whispers, kissing along my jaw.

Her hand goes into my shorts, gripping me. I groan. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. “Are you sure about this, Em?” I ask, my voice strained.

She nods, slow and steady. “I’ve never been surer of anything.”

I kiss her again, slower this time. “Okay,” I whisper. “But we do this your way. You tell me to stop, I stop.”

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