Page 24 of Hooked on Emerson
I’m not good with words, but I wanted you to have something that’s just yours, whether you stay or go. Something to remind you that you’re more than your mother’s daughter or the shop owner. You’re Ava, and that’s enough.
~Emerson
Beneath the note lay a delicate silver bracelet with a single charm—a small lavender bloom crafted from metal, each tiny petal detailed with careful precision. The silver caught the streetlight, gleaming softly in the darkness of the shop. Tears pricked at her eyes as she lifted it from the box. It wasn’t extravagant or showy, but it was thoughtful and personal in a way that spoke directly to her heart. The metal was cool againsther skin as she slipped it onto her wrist, the charm hanging delicately over her pulse point.
Outside, a shadow moved past the window—Emerson, walking slowly back toward his truck, which was parked across the street. He hadn’t left after all. Had been waiting, perhaps, to make sure she found his gift.
Without hesitation, Ava rushed to the door and pulled it open, the bell above it chiming softly in the quiet evening. “Emerson,” she called.
He turned, surprise in being caught evident even from a distance. The streetlight caught the angles of his face, softening them.
She held up her wrist, the bracelet catching the light from the shop windows. “Thank you,” she said, her voice carrying in the quiet evening air. “It’s perfect.”
He crossed the street toward her, hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched as if afraid she hated his gift. “You like it?”
“I love it.” She touched the charm with gentle fingers, feeling the intricate details—each petal, the tiny stem, the delicate craftsmanship. “Did you make this?”
He nodded, a hint of color touching his cheeks. “The box, yes. Had the charm custom made by a jeweler in Fairview.” He shifted his stance slightly, an uncharacteristic show of nervousness. “I’ve been working on it for a while. Since before the pipe burst.”
“It’s beautiful.” She looked up at him, wanting him to understand what the gesture meant to her. The street was quiet around them, most shops closed now, the occasional car passing by. “No one’s ever given me something so personal before.”
“I wanted you to have something that was just for you,” he said, echoing the words from his note. His voice was low, meantonly for her despite the empty street. “Something that wasn’t tied to your mom or the shop.”
“Why?” she asked, though she thought she might already know the answer.
His eyes briefly met hers. “Because you deserve to be seen for who you are, not just what you represent to other people.”
The words settled around her like a security blanket, filling spaces she hadn’t realized were empty. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat, slightly faster than normal. After a moment’s hesitation, his arms came around her, one hand settling at the small of her back, the other cradling her shoulder.
“Thank you,” she whispered against the soft fabric of his shirt. She could smell the sawdust on him from the trim earlier but under that was a musk uniquely him and comforting.
His hand moved to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading gently through her hair. The touch was so tender and careful, that Ava felt something unravel inside her, a knot of tension she’d been carrying for months. “You’re welcome,” he murmured, his breath warm against her hair.
They stood like that for a long moment, the quiet of the evening wrapping around them. A car passed by, its headlights briefly illuminating them before sweeping on. Somewhere down the street, a door closed. But in their small circle of connection, time seemed suspended.
When she finally pulled back, his eyes were dark and intent on her face. Something passed between them, a link of understanding that needed no words. She reached up, her fingers brushing his cheek, feeling his of stubble against her skin.
“I still don’t know what I’m going to do,” she admitted. “About Seattle. Not because I want to be away from you, but because it’s a huge opportunity.”
He nodded, his hand coming up to cover hers where it rested against his face. “I know.” He turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to her palm, the gesture so tender it made her heart ache. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Whatever you decide, make sure it’s what you want. Not what you think you should want.”
The distinction struck her like a bell, clear and resonant. What she wanted versus what she thought she should want. She had been so caught up in the idea of leaving, of escaping memories and expectations, that she hadn’t stopped to consider if that was truly what her heart desired.
“I promise,” she said softly, the words feeling like a vow.
He smiled, the expression transforming his face and making her breath catch. Then, with gentle deliberation, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, a kiss so light she might have imagined it if not for the warmth that spread through her at his touch.
“Goodnight, Ava,” he murmured against her skin.
“Goodnight, Emerson.”
He stepped back, his hands sliding reluctantly from her shoulders. For a moment, he looked as if he might say something more, might lean in again, this time finding her lips instead of her forehead. Instead, he gave her one last smile before turning and walking to his truck.
Ava watched him go, her fingers touching the spot on her forehead where his lips had been. The bracelet gleamed on her wrist, catching the light from the streetlamp overhead. A gift with no strings attached, no expectations. Just a reminder that she was seen and valued for herself.
