Page 78 of As the Years Pass
“I’m getting a headache. We can stay if you want.”
“Nope, it’s okay.”
I finish my drink and pull a twenty from my wallet, that I put on the bar, sliding it to the end.
“Night, Bar Daddy!” Nathanial calls out, and I laugh as we walk through the door.
I don’t understand what’s happening.
Why I feel like this… about a guy.
It doesn’t make sense. None of it does. Ever since my parents died, everything’s been foggy—like my whole life’s been stuck in this weird in-between place. I barely remember what day it is most of the time, but somehow, my body always remembers Emmet.
When he walks into a room, I feel like I’m waking up. My nerves go electric, my heart kicks into overdrive, and for a second—just one second—everything is clear.
And then it’s not.
Because nothing about this is clear. Nothing about it makes any damn sense.
When I was told I had an aunt I would move in with, I was devastated. I didn’t want to leave Emmet or his family—or the other kids. They were all so understanding and kind. But I thought if I wasn’t around Emmet, the feelings would fade. But they haven’t. They’ve only gotten worse. I can’t stop thinking about him. I can’t stop calling him, or finding reasons to see him, to touch him.
He makes me feel good. Too good. It’s like… addictive.
And it’s terrifying.
I’ve never looked at a guy like this before, not ever. And I’ve never questioned who I was. But I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to feel like this. It’s not supposed to be this intense, this consuming.
I wish my parents were still alive. I want to believe they’d understand, that they’d listen and say something that makes this make sense. But I keep replaying the conversations we had—the dreams they had for me. The family vacations with a future daughter-in-law. The grandkids.
Were those just filler words? Could “wife” have just been the default? Could they have meant “spouse”? Could I swap it out for “husband” and still make it all fit?
My phone vibrates on the bench beside me. I don’t have to pick it up to know it’s him.
Walking over now.
I scan the park—the field, the trees, the playground. But all I see is Emmet. All I ever see is Emmet. Even from across the park, when he’s as small as an ant, I know it’s him. I feel him, even from here.
No one’s telling me I have to stop seeing him, but I can’t help but worry that I’m being consumed by an unhealthy obsession.
It’s too much.
And yet, not enough, all at the same time.
Chapter Thirty-One
Emmet
I knew this would come up at some point, I just hadn’t expected him to put it together so quickly. Though, he always was a smart guy. Maybe I underestimated him. Or maybe I’m way more obvious than I thought. Not necessarily a bad thing, because I’m not ashamed of how I feel, I just don’t want to scare him off.
“I’m sorry you walked all the way here for only one drink,” I say.
He smiles over at me, the streetlights making his blue eyes sparkle as he links his hand with mine. The gesture makes my heart soar.
“No need to be sorry, but if you feel so inclined, I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me.”
My voice comes out husky when I say, “Is that so??”
“Oh, it sure is.”
