Page 36 of Only When It Breaks

I set her down gently on the edge of the bed. “Emmie-”

She leans forward fast.Too fast. And then she’s vomiting all over Luna’s cream duvet.

“Shit, okay, okay, I’ve got you.”

She heaves again, gripping the edge of the bed like it might steady her, tears mixing with the sweat and water on her face.

I move fast, grabbing the rubbish bin and placing it in front of her. I gently rub circles on her back, whilst I tug her wet hair back from her face. “Sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

My heart breaks. She’s apologising like she wasn’t just humiliated in front of the most popular kids in college. “It’s fine,” I say. “Don’t worry about it. Just breathe.”

Once it’s over, I go into the wardrobe and pull out a fluffy towel and some clothes. Shorts and a vest. Not exactly Emmie-style clothes, but at least they’ll cover her up.

I help her out of the wet shirt, careful not to look and upset her more. I wrap the towel around her and pull her to me again, rubbing my arms up and down hers to warm her up. I grab the vest and pull it over her head. Then I gather the shorts and bend down, holding them so she can step into them. I tug them over her hips, relieved she’s finally clothed.

I slip from my own clothes, just leaving my boxers in place. I find an oversized man’s hoodie in the closet and slip it on.

I glance at the mess on the bed. We need somewhere quiet and clean, so I lead her back out into the hall and across the landing to another door.

A couple is tangled on the bed, half-clothed and half-drunk, and they freeze when they see me standing there like some wet, pissed-off avenger with a broken girl in my arms.

“Out,” I growl.

They scramble up without arguing, grabbing clothes and shoes and stumbling past me like they can feel the rage rolling off me. I kick the door shut behind them and lock it. Then I set Emmie down carefully on the clean bed.

She sits still for a second, shoulders hunched. Then, her hands fly to her face, and she starts to sob. Not the pretty, quiet kind. The messy, gut-wrenching,breakingkind.

“I hate them,” she chokes out. “I hateher;I hateme.I was just . . . I just wanted to fit in and-and I’m sostupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” I say, sitting beside her. “None of this is your fault.”

“I saw you kiss her,” she blurts, and the words are soaked in pain. “Bella. I saw you. And I still went upstairs withher best friend,like an idiot.”

My jaw clenches. My rejection of Bella followed that kiss, and then this happened.It’s not a coincidence.“That wasn’t- she kissedme,Em.”

She laughs bitterly, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I didn’t kiss her back.”

She stares into my eyes, searching for the truth. Her face is red and blotchy and still perfect in all the ways that matter. “I don’t want to be here,” she whispers.

“I know.” I pull her into me, holding her tight against my chest, resting my chin on top of her head. “But you’re safe now.”

She doesn’t say anything. Just keeps crying, quieter now. And I stay there, holding her, until the worst of it passes.

Half an hour goes by. She’s tucked into my side now, her face hidden in my hoodie, and I can finally feel her breathing start to slow. The storm of sobs has passed, but I don’t move. I don’t want to. I want to stay right here until everything stops hurting.

She shifts slightly; her voice muffled. “I’m sorry I ruined your night.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” I say. “They did. And you know what? Screw them.”

She gives a faint huff of a laugh. “I shouldn’t have come. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were looking for an escape,” I mutter. “From our parents, from me. I should have said no. I shouldn’t have let you come.”

She pulls back enough to look at me, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. “In the mood I was in, do you think you’d have stopped me?” She offers a small smile.

“Probably not,” I agree. “They’re idiots, Em. All of them. I didn’t see it before, but you were right.”

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