Capture

Secrets Unhidden

I woke to the sound of car doors shutting, my head resting on Harry's torso. Disoriented for a moment I looked around realizing that we must have fallen asleep after we'd come upstairs to drop off our luggage. I remember sitting on the bed next to Harry, but I was so tired I must have fallen asleep in an instant.

Gently slipping out from under Harry's arm, I moved to the window and tugged the blinds open just enough to see. My brother Rick was loading the last bag into the back of his car while his wife, Rachel, buckled in on the passenger side. Dad leaned through the back window, probably making baby talk to Jackson, his little tuft of hair visible even from here.

I stood there for a second, watching them. Some soft, nostalgic ache stirred in me—one I didn't want to name.

Behind me, Harry shifted but didn't wake. I tiptoed across the room and into the bathroom. The cool water helped, a little. I washed my face, retied my hair into a neater bun, and stared at my reflection. My features looked familiar but dulled—like I'd been living in grayscale lately, unsure which side of me still had color.

I told myself it would pass. That leaving Liam behind meant moving forward. That everything broken inside me could start to heal now.

I padded downstairs to the kitchen. My mom was tidying up, humming softly to herself, and the clock over the stove said it was just past ten.

She turned, surprised. "Oh, you're up! Are you hungry?"

"You didn't wake us," I said simply, grabbing a fork and digging into the pasta salad container on the counter.

"I was going to," she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel, "but you two looked so comfortable. I figured you needed the rest."

"He probably did more than me. I crashed hard on the flight."

She smiled. "He's cute, Em. You two make a sweet couple."

"We're not really dating, Mom."

"That's too bad. He's a doll."

I cringed. "We're just really good friends."

"Good friends who fall asleep wrapped around each other?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"Occasionally," I said with a shrug, hiding a smile.

"I'm just glad you have someone. After what happened with Ian..."

"Please don't bring him up," I groaned.

"I know. It's just—you left so fast, we didn't really get to talk."

I bit my cheek, the guilt sharp and sudden. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Oh, baby," she said, walking toward me. "I wasn't worried about me. I was worried about you."

I looked at her, and something cracked. Her eyes were soft, full of concern and forgiveness. My throat tightened.

"I'm better now," I whispered. "Liam is what I needed."

Her brow furrowed. "Liam? Who's Liam?"

My whole body stilled. "What?" I asked, too quickly.

"You said Liam. Who is he?"

"No, I—I said London. London is what I needed."

She paused, giving me that look only a mother can give—the kind that sees straight through every word. "Emma," she said gently.

"He's just another neighbor," I said, trying to recover. "He's not important. Kind of an asshole, honestly, he means nothing."

She studied my face for a second too long, then finally let it drop. "If you say so, sweetie." She leaned in and kissed my forehead. Just then, Harry entered the room, sleepy-eyed and messy hair. "Oh, hi dear!" my mom greeted brightly.