Page 30 of Only When It Breaks

“Well, I’m glad I made you a better man for at least a nano-second. It’s a shame it can’t last. But as they say, all good things must come to an end.”

“I was ashamed,” I say suddenly, the second her words end. “After Saturday . . . and my dad . . .” I shrug. “I was ashamed.”

“And you thought the best way to deal with that was to cut me off. Ignore me like I mean nothing.”

I shift uncomfortably. “It sounds stupid when you say it out loud.”

“Just go, Kai. I’m so over it.”

“You’re the only thing that feels real lately,” I admit.

Her arms fold over her chest like armour. “Then why treat me like your embarrassing little secret?”

I don’t have an answer that won’t make me look like a complete coward, so I go with the truth. “Because I was scared.” She blinks. “Scared you’d figure out I’m not good enough for you. That I’ll mess up the second I feel anything real.”

She’s staring at me now. Her eyes burning into me. And for a second, I think she might cry. But she doesn’t, she just whispers, “You already did.”

Chapter Ten

Emmie

Avoiding Kai is easy now that he’s back with his usual crowd, acting like I don’t exist.“It was nice while it lasted,” Ava sighs, resting her chin on her hand and staring across the field at their group.“You’re taking this harder than I am,” I say with a half-laugh.She shrugs. “It was nice to be seen. Now I just feel used.”“Hediduse us,” I say, shoving my books into my bag. There’s no way we’re getting any studying done with her watching them like they’re the lost boys of Neverland. “He needed us when his friends were being dicks.”“Is your mum still seeing his dad?”I shake my head, though I’m pretty sure she’s still talking to him. The way she lights up every time her phone buzzes says enough. “No. So at least I don’t have to see him.” I stand. “Come on. I’m not sitting here while you pine over them like you’re missing out on the meaning of life.”She groans but lets me pull her up. Kai glances over and Ava gives him a smile which he doesn’t return.Dick.

When I get home, Mum’s in the kitchen humming as she decorates cupcakes. It’s nice to see her relaxed andhappy?“They look amazing,” I say, grabbing the nearest one and taking a huge bite.She laughs. “Don’t pig out. We’re having dinner in an hour.”I frown, glancing around the kitchen, noting there’s nothing cooking. “What’s the occasion?”She hesitates, piping bag in hand, and gives me a guilty smile. “Don’t freak out.”Uh-oh.“I said we’d go over to Joel’s. He wants to make it up to us. He invited us for dinner.”“What?” I shoot up from the stool. “Are you actually out of your mind?”She looks disappointed. “Iknewyou’d react like this.”“But you still said yes.”“I like him, Emmie. And maybe you don’t understand what that feels like-”“Don’t patronise me,” I snap.She breathes out slowly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But Idolike Joel. I’m willing to hear him out. The least you can do is come with me, listen to what he’s got to say and then make a judgement.”I stare at her. She looks hopeful. A bit nervous, even. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll come. Hear him out. And then talk some sense into you.”Her shoulders relax. “Perfect. Go shower and change.”

Joel opens the door with the energy of an excited puppy. The second he sees me, his smile stutters. Guess he didn’t expect me to actually show up.Good. I hope he’s uncomfortable.“Emmie, thank you so much for coming,” he says too warmly.I flash a sugary smile. “Good to see you, Officer Banks.”His hands disappear into his pockets as I brush past and follow Mum to the kitchen.“It smells amazing,” she says. “No Kai?”“He’s heading to a party,” Joel replies, joining us.Of course he is.“I want to start by saying I’m sorry,” he adds, leaning on the counter like he’s rehearsed this in the mirror.“For?” I ask, raising my brow as I cross my arms.“Emmie,” Mum warns quietly.“It’s a serious question,” I say. “If he doesn’t know what he’s apologising for,what’s the point?”“He does,” she says quickly, as if Joel can’t speak for himself.

Kai barrels into the kitchen, stopping cold when he sees me. His mouth opens like he’s about to say something, then shuts again. He turns to his dad. “What’s for dinner?”Joel blinks. “Er . . . Italian pasta salad.”“Great. I’ll set the table.” He grabs placemats and moves to the drawer.

Mum gives me a stern look. “We’ll talk later. Go help Kai.”I roll my eyes hard but head over, grabbing the cutlery and laying it out.“I didn’t know they were still together,” Kai mutters, glancing toward our parents, who are now deep in conversation.“Me either. After tonight, they won’t be.”“No?”“You really think I’m letting your aggressive dad anywhere near my mum?”He shrugs. “He’s got issues. I don’t blame you. I just . . .” He sighs. “At least hear him out.”“You sound like her,” I mutter. “I don’t owe him anything. Neither does she.”We finish setting the table in silence.

We sit around the table like the world’s most dysfunctional family, with plates of pasta salad in front of us and cutlery clinking like background music to the awkward silence. Mum is doing her best act, smiling too much, pretending like this isn’t the most uncomfortable dinner in existence.

Joel clears his throat. “So, Emmie, how’s school?”

I stab a cherry tomato and don’t look up. “Still exists.”

Mum shoots me a look. “She’s doing great. Top of her class in English Lit.”

I shrug. “Not hard when everyone else thinks Shakespeare is a rapper.”

Joel laughs politely. “That’s good. Shows you’ve got your mum’s brains.”

I glance up at him, sweetly. “Didn’t realise you knew her well enough to make that call.”

Mum sets down her fork a little too carefully. “She’s just tired.”

“I’m fine,” I say brightly. “Loving the small talk, though. Really riveting stuff.”

Joel wipes his mouth with a napkin and tries again. “I wanted to say again, Emmie, I’m sorry. For everything. I wasn’t in a good place when we first met. But I’ve stopped drinking. I’m trying to be better.”

I give him a slow clap. Literally. One, two, three exaggerated claps. “Wow. Want a medal or a pat on the back?”

Mum closes her eyes like she’s counting to ten.

Joel exhales through his nose. “I get it. I probably deserve that. But I’m serious. I haven’t had a drink all week.”

“Should we mark it on the fridge like a toddler’s reward chart?” I ask, twirling my fork. “A month of good behaviour and you get a sticker?”

---