Page 52 of Requiem
I shake my head immediately. “Don’t do that,” I say, sharper now.“I was there,Emma.Idid that. I didn’t fucking stop.”
“I know,” she says.
My fingers twitch against my thigh, my thoughts starting to tangle again. “Then what the hell are you saying?”
She carefully sits on the edge of the bed. “You’re trying to decide what that makes you,” she says.
I huff out something that almost sounds like a laugh. “I already decided.”
“A monster,” she finishes quietly.
My jaw locks. “Yeah.”
“Okay.”
My head lifts a little more at that. “So what?” I ask, quieter now despite myself.
A beat passes. “Then we deal with that version of you, too.”
I look away from her.
“You think you’re broken?” she continues. “Then we work with broken. You think you’re dangerous? Then we figure out how to make you safe again.”
My chest aches. All I want is to pull her into me and hug her. Kiss her.Loveher. “Emma—” I start, but my voice cracks, and I shut my mouth. Because I don’t know what the hell to do with that. I don’t know what to do with her, choosing to be this close to me after seeing that video. After knowing what I’ve done. What Iam.
After I tried to fucking kill her.
“You should leave,” I say instead, defaulting to the only thing that makes sense anymore. “You shouldn’t—”
“You should know by now that I won’t give up on you,” she interrupts.
Micah nods, and my gaze clashes with his.
“Why didn’t you just leave me alone? I told you.” My voice is quiet.
A heavy sigh leaves my best friend. “I couldn’t just let you go, man. I love you.”
I swallow hard at that.
“Don’t push us away,” Emma whispers, going to reach for my hand but decides against it. Like she forgot for a moment that I’m unstable. “We need you. Now more than ever. Come back to me.”
My throat constricts as I stare at her slender hands in her lap. There are still remnants of a pastel green nail polish that’s chipped off. I focus hard on that to keep myself from losing my shit.
Her voice cuts through the quiet again. “Hey, look at me.”
My eyes snap up before I even think about it. “No,” I say immediately, shaking my head once. It’s automatic. Because looking at her is the problem. Looking at her is what makes everything inside me misfire.
Emma doesn’t move. She just stays seated in front of me. “You need to try,” she says quietly. “You can’t keep avoiding my face. That’s part of it, Jude. Your brain is linking me to pain. We have to start changing that.”
My jaw tightens hard. “That’s not how this works.”
“Actually, it is how it works,” she replies, and there’s a strength there that I don’t miss.
My hands fist in the sheets. “I can’t,” I say again, quieter this time.
Emma doesn’t look away. “Yes, you can.”
Silence stretches.I hate it.But finally, I lift my eyes.
