Page 48 of Riding the Curve

“I just want you to be careful, sis. It hurt me to see you in pain that night after he stormed off, and you know I have despised the way that Carson has treated you over the years.”

The mention of Carson makes me cringe.

“I know that asshole has done more damage than the little bits you’ve shared with me. I just want you to be happy. You deserve to be with someone who will make you smile every day.” He sighs deeply, massaging his fingers against his forehead.

“That’s the thing, Ry. I still believe Emerson could be the one who does that. I know he’s made mistakes, but my heart keeps telling me that I shouldn’t give up on him yet. It just feels like I owe myself a chance to see this through.”

A weary smile peeks through his dark beard. “You’ve always had a way with him, Hen. That man has always been locked up tighter than a safe with his feelings, yet you could always get him to talk in ways none of us could. It’s kind of your superpower. And since we are all being honest here, I think Em has always had that same kind of power over you too.”

A knowing look flashes across my brother’s face, and I’m transported straight to the past.

“Hey, you’re in my spot,” I had sniffled, dragging my feet through sand down to the old tree swing that was already occupied by Emerson.

After finding out that I had failed my chemistry midterm, I just needed a moment alone to sit and fall apart. I had studied so damn hard for that test. Even enlisted Ryleigh and Emerson’s help to run flash cards with me. Still, I failed. Like I always did. Sometimes, I truly felt like something was broken within me.

Emerson’s head was propped between his hands as he gently swayed the swing with his feet. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even budge when I cleared my throat to get his attention.

Something wasn’t right. I’d known him long enough to be able to read the signs.

When Em got too deep in his head, he became vacant. Staring into space, only picking up on half of the conversations, hiding in his room, or coming to the swing.

This was always my place of sanctuary.

And now it’s also become his.

One night, he found me down here while I was having a panic attack and patiently helped me all the way through it. It was the first time I’d ever let anyone else in, besides my family. Ever since then, I started to find him out here more often.

“Are you alright?”

The silence made my hackles rise. Stepping around the swing, I stopped in front of him and peeled his hands away from his face. His head still hung low, not meeting my gaze.

“Leave me alone, Hen,” his voice rasped.

“Afraid I can’t do that. Friends don’t let friends wallow in sadness alone.” I repeated the very same line he’d used on me when he found me out here the first time. That earned me a hint of a smile. “Come on, spill the beans.”

He grumbled something under his breath then sighed heavily, causing mirth to fill my body. Slowly chipping away at the sadness I carried out here.

When his head slowly raised and I saw his glossy red eyes, the mirth and everything else in my mind immediately fell away. This was the first time I’d ever seen Emerson cry. All my focus shifted to finding a way to help him.

“Talk to me . . . please,” I whispered.

“I got an offer for my dream job.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” I asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know,” he grumbled as his brows pinched together.

“What do you mean?”

“It means I have to move to Texas,” he whispered. His eyes glanced back toward his property, then down to the dirt below his feet.

No wonder he’d fallen so deep into his spiral. He was worried about leaving his Mama. A year ago, she’d been declared in remission for the second time. This time was a lot harder than the first, and the Lane family was still healing from the experience.

Breast cancer not only attacked her body but dug its claws into her spirit. I used to be able to help pull her out of her low points, but some days even I couldn’t even make it through to her. The night before her double mastectomy, Mom and I had laid with her, holding her close as she cried herself to sleep. Tears mixed with sadness and fury. Each one for the loss of a part of her identity and frustration over the control cancer had over her body.

It took a toll on both Lane men as well. They were so similar, always trying their best to shoulder the pain and put on a good front for Autumn, but I could see the pain etched on their faces when they thought no one was looking. Like right now.

Emerson had always been closed off, sometimes not even sharing his feelings with Ryleigh. Yet for some reason, he started to let me in little bits at a time. I’d even found myself doing the same. Talking to my therapist and family had been incredibly helpful, but talking with Em seemed to help in ways I didn’t understand. It was almost like we were attuned to each other’s pain. ‘Like’ calling to ‘like.’ I felt like my soul accepted his words and advice as truth because it knew his soul was struggling just the same.