Page 56 of Sure

That’s when I realize I might be playing around, but Emily is very clearly not.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be a woman,” she says, lowering her voice and leaning in close. “That man had all of my personal details on his tablet. My address, my phone number, my email, and God knows what else. The handsome ones who are so used to getting their way are also the least familiar with being turned down, and men who have been turned down often turn into assholes. So yeah, I was friendly. Overly friendly when he began to make it clear he wanted my number. I made certain he had returned his tablet to the desk before I gave him the wrong number, and now I won’t ever be able to go back to that Verizon again. So, no, I wasn’t flirting with him. I was figuring out a way to get out of that situation because the only other way would have been to say you were my boyfriend or husband, and I refuse to live in a world where the only way men respect me is if I’m with another man.”

Her chest heaves as she finishes her diatribe, and then she spins on her heel and storms off, leaving me and Teddy behind.

I stand alone in the middle of the mall for a few moments, feeling chastised and put in my place, before following slowly in Emily’s wake. I’ve never thought about things from that perspective before, and my mind tries to think over everything she said to me as Teddy and I head for the car.

She’s not there when I get to our parking spot, and I move slowly as I pull Ted from the stroller and get him set up in his booster then put his stroller in the trunk.

Thankfully, Emily walks up only a few minutes later, carrying a big bag from the candy store.

She climbs into the front seat next to me and says, “I’m sorry for barking at you,” before slipping on her sunglasses and staring away from me out the window.

I blink a few times and take a long, deep inhale before pulling out of the parking spot and maneuvering us toward the mall exit.

We’re halfway back to the house when she starts speaking.

“I had a friend, my sophomore year in college, who got hit on when she was getting a computer. She turned him down. He swiped her information from the system, followed her home, and approached her in front of her residence hall on campus, demanding to know why ‘a slut like her’ would turn down a guy like him.”

My jaw drops and I look over at Emily. She’s still staring out the side window, her arms crossed tight.

“She tried to get a restraining order, but you have to have a pattern of behavior, and as far as she knew, he never did anything else. But she never felt safe on campus again, always wondering if he would pop out while she was walking between classes in the evening.”

Emily shakes her head.

“There are too many things from my past that already make me a statistic. I’m considered high risk for drug abuse, alcohol abuse, domestic violence, incarceration.” She takes in a deep breath and lets it out in a huff. “And with the fact I got mugged just last week, I know I have to be careful. Maybe to you, that looks like flirting, or lying, or something else. Maybe you really think I’m the kind of girl to use a man for whatever she can get from him. But to me, I was just protecting myself.”

A beat or two goes by, and I realize she’s done sharing.

I can’t even imagine being in a situation like that. Emily’s right—I have no idea what women go through.

Reacting on instinct, I reach across the car and take one of her hands in mine where she’s worrying her fingers together in her lap, giving it a squeeze.

“I get it. And I’m sorry for implying otherwise.”

She looks over at me, and I wish like hell she didn’t have her sunglasses covering her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and she squeezes my hand back but doesn’t let go.

***

Emily retreats to her room for a little while that evening.

I don’t want her to feel like she has to spend all her time with me and Teddy, but I also don’t ever want her to feel like she has to hide away in her room, either.

So once Teddy is down for a nap, his post-mall ice cream sugar crash knocking him out a bit earlier than normal, I knock quietly on her bedroom door.

“Hey,” she says, her voice much more quiet and subdued than normal. “What’s up?”

She pulls the door back and retreats to sit on her bed, so I take that as an invitation to step into her space, though I lean back against the door jamb.

“I just wanted to apologize again, for earlier. I spoke too quickly and didn’t consider where you were coming from. Plus, it wasn’t really my business in the first place.”

“You’re right, it wasn’t.”

I blink, slightly surprised by her bluntness but deserving it in the same breath.

“But I also can’t expect you to know everything going on in my head,” she continues. “So I’m sorry for lashing out at you. I very easily could have explained that to you without being so aggressive.”

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