Page 64 of Make Me Love You

“I think maybe I can forgive him,” she said slowly. “Maybe I already have. I just...I don’t know how to live with it.”

“What do you mean?” Kate asked.

“I mean...” Emma kicked at a tuft of grass with her sneaker and frowned. “I don’t know what I mean. All I know is that two months ago, I could say with absolute certainty that I hated Eli Carter, and I could name my reasons why. Everything made sense then. Black and white, good versus evil. I wanted him to rue the day he decided to run for mayor. Remember when I said that?” She shook her head, almost in wonder. “I don’t feel like that now.”

“You don’t feel like what, exactly? Oh, my God, you don’t mean you actually want him to win this election, do you? Because I swear to God, Emma—”

“No. Hell no. Eli doesn’t even want to win, anyway. I mean...I don’t know. Things aren’t so black and white. And they’re not even gray, either, because that’s just black and white mixed together. This is more than that. This is... You know how in kindergarten you would mix all the paint colors together until it was an ugly brown? That’s what this is. It’s all the pretty colors mixed into something ugly.”

Kate tilted her head and studied her. “So, you’re saying you don’t want him to rue the day, then.”

Emma allowed herself a tiny smile. “No, I don’t want him to rue the day. I hope he has a very nice day, actually.”

“So you don’t hate him anymore, you have very good sex, and he’s handy with hanging fairy lights. What’s the problem? Because I’m not following.”

“The problem is that the better I feel about Eli, the worse I feel about myself. I feel awful, Kate. Like absolute shit.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “Because once I realized that everything wasn’t black and white, that what Eli had done wasn’t evil, then I understood that what I had done wasn’t all that great. Actually, it was probably worse, because I think I used my anger at Eli as a way to hide from my own actions. And I don’t know how to live with that.”

“Oh, honey.” Kate pulled her into a hug. “It was eight years ago. You were barely an adult, and you had just lost your mom. Do you really want to carry this weight with you for the rest of your life? Let it go.”

“How do I do that?”

“The same way you did it for Eli. The same way we do for anyone we love. You have to forgive yourself. You’re not perfect. No one is.”

That’s what Eli had said, too. Why did everyone keep saying that? “I know that.” She frowned. “Of course I know that.”

“Do you?” Kate tilted her head and studied her. “Because you look kind of annoyed about it.”

“I am annoyed, Kate,” Emma said crisply. “I was really hoping you would give me better advice. Because forgiving myself isn’t going to make any of this any better, and if it’s not better, than I can’t feel good about myself, now can I. And I really like to feel good about myself, Kate.”

Kate snorted. “Okay, then here’s my advice. Fix it.”

“Right. Now, how am I supposed to do that, again?”

“Generally I go with the same formula for every screw up. Apologies and acts of service.”

“Oh.” Emma blinked rapidly. “That’s pretty good.”

“It is, isn’t it? So you apologize to Eli for the eight-year freeze out and, I don’t know, give him a blowjob and call it even.” She paused. “And if that doesn’t work—but I think it will—then you try something else. You’ll think of something. You always do.”

Emma took a deep breath. Apologies and acts of service. And if that failed, blowjobs. She could do that.

Just as soon as she located her courage.

***

The event went off without a hitch, and Eli wasn’t the least bit surprised. The Whittakers had been right when they said it practically ran itself. Hart’s Ridge had been celebrating the Fourth of July with fireworks, a Ferris wheel, and a party for seventy-five years now. But this year was different.

For as long as Eli could remember, the celebration had gotten smaller with every year as the town contracted in on itself, with the older generations dying and the younger generations moving out. But this year was different.

Thanks to Emma, people all over North Carolina, and some from South Carolina and Virginia, were discovering that Hart’s Ridge was a place they liked to visit. And maybe, if one visit became another and another and another, the people who lived in Hart’s Ridge could afford to stay.

That was the plan. And while it was too soon to tell whether it would really and truly work, it was a huge step in a better direction. He had faith. He had faith in Hart’s Ridge. In Emma.

Who he had successfully avoided all day, until now, when dusk had just settled over the valley, and people were spreading out blankets and preparing for the fireworks to start.

“Hey.” She shoved her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and bounced on her toes. “Busy day, huh?”

“Yeah. I think this is the first time I’ve stopped moving all day.” He looked down at her, her eyes and hair luminous in the glow of the barn lights. So damn beautiful. His chest ached. “You did good, Ms. Andrews.”

---