Page 57 of Riding the Curve

You’re so pathetic.

My fists tighten against the fabric of my sundress as I try to battle the horrid bully inside my head. I’d give anything to just silence it forever.

“Henley?” Emerson’s strained voice echoes into the pantry. My entire body stills.

Opening the door just a smidge, I spot him searching the rooms on the opposite side. Careful not to make a sound, I slip through the door and head to the back exit. Trying to control my breaths is difficult, but I know in just a few more moments I’ll be able to let go once more. Only a few more feet, and I’ll be free.

Gripping around the frame of the door, I pause to take a much-needed breath. The inside of my chest feels like a crushed can, making filling my lungs difficult. Something clamps around my wrist, and my body slides back against the wall.

I don’t have to look up to know what presence towers over me. Em’s protective aura cages around me. “What happened back there?”

His fingers release my wrist, both hands coming up to cup my cheeks. Forcing my eyes shut, I can feel him raise my head to meet his gaze. Silence lingers between us as I struggle to find the words to explain myself.

“Talk to me,” he whispers. His thumbs gently caress my skin, trying to coax me out the shell I shoved myself in. “Please?”

The crack in his voice has tears streaming through my clenched eyelids. Damn. I try to wiggle free, but his strong arms hold me tight. When I realize I’m not going anywhere, I resort to pleading. “I-I don’t want you to see me like this. Not again . . . Just let me go.”

“Afraid I can’t do that, Trouble.”

One moment my feet are on the ground, the next they are wrapped around Emerson’s waist as he holds me against him. Burying my head into his shoulder, I cling onto him like a koala. He carries me away from the door for a few moments, until I feel my backside hit the cool wood of one of the worktables.

Emerson hovers over me and my face burns with humiliation.

“What happened?” he whispers.

“I burned the steaks.”

“They’re just steaks, Hen.” His tone is earnest. No trace of humor to be found. Facing his bright blue eyes, I hold onto them for strength.

Distaste for myself grows, just like my frustration. I’m so overwhelmed that the anger inside me intensifies to the point where I lose control. “Don’t you think I know that?” I sneer.

Emerson winces, his gaze falling to the ground between us. Instantly, I regret my outburst.

This is why I escape when I feel my panic setting in.

If I’m alone, there’s no one I can hurt.

Carson never understood that, continuing to push and push until we got into some of our biggest arguments. The last person I want to hurt is Em. He’s already dealing with so much himself. Breathing deeply, I do my best to shove down the anger.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out. I’m just angry with myself. They were more than steaks. They were my way of bringing Autumn’s last wish to life. My apology for not being there for her in the end, like she had always been there for me. I wanted everything to be perfect, so that I could bring you and your Dad some c-comfort,” I stutter, feeling my bottom lip begin to wobble.

“It was also proof that I didn’t need a fancy restaurant—that I was capable of being a great chef in my own right. A reminder that I was worthy of the title I’ve worked so hard for. Hope that for once in my life I could get something right.”

Shame swallows me whole, evidence streaming down my cheeks. I’ve never been this vulnerable with anyone outside of my family. Not even Harper or Melody have seen the full extent of my anxiety.

In just a short time, Em has witnessed me stripped bare on more than one occasion. I’ve allowed him to see the darkest parts of me. I shiver, too afraid to contemplate what that means.

Emerson grabs a metal stool from underneath the table. The metal groans against the floor as he drags it right in front of me and sits. Shifting my thighs wide, he scoots in as far as he can, invading my space until we’re practically breathing each other’s air.

“Listen, you aren’t responsible for our happiness or solving our problems. That is a burden that you never have to share the weight of carrying. So you’re going to take that weight off your shoulders right now.”

I begin to shake my head, but he grips my chin, holding it steady.

“Can’t you see that your personality alone brings lightness to our days? Just the other night, I walked up to the house to take out the trash. Dad’s laughter belted through the open windows and I peered in to see you two eating dinner together.” He exhaled a deep breath, his brows pinching together. “You gave him such a happy moment , one that I’ve haven’t been able to give him since the first few days I’ve been here.”

Sliding my hand around his, I part my lips to speak, but he shakes his head. “This is about you, right now. You can psychoanalyze me later.”

That makes a breathy chuckle flow freely from my lips, easing some of the tension.