Page 46 of Only When We Fall

She smiles, “Noah did a good job.”

“Noah?” I ask, gasping.

“Along with some friends. Look, Em, don’t tell me you feel sorry for him, he deserved it.”

“I didn’t want everyone to know,” I admit. “I didn’t want them talking about me.”

I hear Kai groan and then he wraps his arms around me from behind and nuzzles his face into my neck. “Emmie, it’s not the same as before. What he did was wrong, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“And neither was what Bella and Luna did,” I point out.

“Nobody is talking about you, Em. No one is laughing.”

I settle back against him. “I don’t want anything else to happen to him, Kai. I think he gets the message now. Let’s concentrate on us.”

He kisses my cheek. “Okay.”

“Great, because there’s a poetry night tonight, and you two are coming along,” Zara announces. “And I don’t want any excuses. We need to broaden our minds.”

Kai

I never thought I’d willingly be at a spoken word night. Yet here I am, perched on the edge of a folding chair in some dimly lit Uni café that smells of burnt espresso and second-hand clothing, listening to a guy with a nose ring talk about heartbreak using only ocean metaphors.

Seb leans in close. “Do you think he’s everseenthe sea?” he whispers, grinning.

I smother a laugh and nudge him with my elbow. “Shh. Respect the art.”

Zara snorts beside him, and I catch Emmie’s smile from across the table. She’s hugging her knees to her chest on a bean bag, wearing an oversized brown cardigan, which slips down one shoulder. Her hair is tied up in a claw clip, and the tendrils spilling from it frame her beautiful face perfectly.

She claps politely when the guy finishes, and so do I, a beat too late. She notices and grins, before leaning closer. “Why did you agree to this?”

I laugh. “Because you did, and I want to be anywhere you are.”

“Careful Bank’s, people will start to see the softer side,” she says, her tone teasing. And for once, I don’t care. As long as she’s happy, I’ll go to the ends of the earth.

A new poet gets called up, some girl who looks like she cries to Joni Mitchell, and I zone out halfway through her intro because Emmie’s laughing quietly at something Zara said. And I love that sound. It’s my favourite.

“Wanna get a drink?” I ask her when there’s a break between poets.

She nods, unfolding from the floor. “Sure.”

We walk up to the café bar, “What are you having?”

“Hot chocolate,” she says, giving me an unsure glance as if she expects me to mock her.

I place my arm around her shoulder and kiss her on the temple. It’s a small move but one I know reassures her and shesmiles up at me. When the server comes over, I order. “Two hot chocolates.”

When the drinks come, we each take one. “Are you enjoying it?” she asks suddenly. “Tonight?”

I look over at her. “I’m enjoying being here with you.”

She smiles wider. “Me too. It feels right, doesn’t it?”

I nod in agreement. “Why do you sound surprised?”

She shrugs, the cardigan falling some more from her shoulder. “When we were hiding out at your place, it was easy to pretend everything was okay. I wasn’t sure if you’d still feel the same once we were out in public.”

My heart aches and I close the gap between us, forcing her head back to look up at me. “What are you talking about, Emmie?”

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