Page 33 of Moonlight Feels Right
She was happy to have gotten as much information as she had, so she was okay with that, especially since the road they were on was taking her back in time, and she needed to focus on what was ahead. She felt anxious and worried about so many things, whether they would even see her mother, if she'd be alone, if someone else from the cult would be there, even the ridiculous notion that she might somehow end up being sucked back into that world. That definitely was not going to happen, and she reminded herself that at the end of whatever conversation she would have with her mother and her aunt she was going to leave. Whether her mother would be with her or not was anyone's guess.
Chapter Ten
When they reached the parking lot, a dirt field next to the farmers' market, Emmalyn's hands were sweating, and her heart was pounding hard against her chest. Her anxiety was moving into panic, and if she'd been driving, she might have turned around and left.
Hunter gave her a questioning look as he turned off the engine, and she made no effort to get out of the car.
"I don't know if I can do this," she muttered, meeting his concerned gaze.
"You don't have to," he returned. "We can leave right now."
The fact that he didn't say she should suck it up and do what she'd come to do made her like him even more. "I don't have to," she agreed. "I don't owe my mother anything. But I do owe my aunt. She saved me, Hunter. And she's the one who asked for my help. She's the reason I came. I can't let her down."
"Okay."
"I also don't want my mother to be sick or unhappy. And I do want her to leave Haven. I just don't know if I can face hearing her say no again. I'll be angry and also incredibly sad. Why do I need to put myself through that?"
"You don't."
"But my aunt is trying so hard to save her. She has never given up on my mom. She's a better person than me."
"They have a different relationship. It's not the same."
"But her determination and courage are why I'm free. Why I've been able to live a normal life."
Hunter didn't say anything, and as the quiet of the car swirled around them, she knew she couldn't leave. She also couldn't sit here all day. "I'm going to do it."
He gave her a faint smile. "I figured."
"Really? You didn't think I was going to run? Because I did."
"You're a strong woman, Emmalyn, and surprisingly more complex than I imagined you'd be when we first met."
"Most people are complex. I used to think when they made us all wear the same clothes at the compound that they wanted us to believe we were all exactly the same, but we weren't." She shook her head and let out a breath. "None of that matters now. I'm going to get out of this car, meet my aunt, and hopefully have a conversation with my mother. I doubt whatever we will say to her will work. But at least, I will have tried. And I can live with that."
"Then let's go."
Hunter swung open his car door and stepped out. Emmalyn followed suit, her heart hammering against her ribs as they walked through the entrance. The farmers' market contained at least fifty booths arranged in meandering rows, each one a small universe unto itself. Fresh produce gleamed under the morning sun: pyramids of bright red tomatoes, bundles of kale and arugula, and crates of ripe peaches and strawberries. Artisanal bakers arranged displays of sourdough loaves alongside pastries that sent delicious scents of cinnamon and butter into the air.
Beyond the essential provisions, the market boasted a gallery of local craftsmanship. Silver jewelry caught the light, handwoven textiles draped from rustic displays, and watercolor landscapes captured the hills visible in the distance.
Children's laughter spilled from a cordoned play area where face-painted toddlers chased bubbles, their parents watching from shaded tables near a retrofitted Airstream trailer that dispensed everything from espresso to botanical teas.
The market pulsed with weekend joy, everyone reveling in the simple pleasure of buying fresh food. Everyone except her. The weight of her impending reunion pressed against her chest, making each breath shallow.
Hunter suddenly reached out and took her hand. His touch was warm and shockingly welcome as she sought stability in a swirling sea of uncertainty.
"Do you see your aunt?" he asked.
"Not yet," she said, but then she turned her head and there she was—Linda McGuire, a tall woman with brown hair and brown eyes and an energy that never seemed to flag. When Linda wasn't trying to save her sister or raise her niece, she'd been running an interior design business that had supported both of them. She was the kind of woman who could juggle a million balls and never drop one.
She let go of Hunter's hand as Linda looked up from her phone and saw her. Relief ran across her features, and she quickly moved forward, as if she were afraid Emmalyn might disappear.
"You made it," Linda said, giving her a hug. "Thank you."
"I don't know if I'm going to be able to help you get the result you want."
"You're here. That's all I wanted." Her aunt's gaze moved to Hunter, then back to her, with a questioning gleam in her eyes.
