Emily's Escape

Chapter 39

"Carter, you're crying," it slipped out of my mouth. I couldn't control my words. I had never seen Carter cry. I had heard him cry over the phone, and it was terrible, but it was nothing like seeing it in real life. This was way worse.

I ran to him and slammed my arms around his neck. I pulled him close and squeezed him into me. He couldn't cry. I wouldn't allow it.

"It's fine, Em. Really, it's fine," he said with a slightly groggy voice.

"No, it's not, you're crying," I said with a voice just like his. Seeing him like this was affecting me, too.

"Emily, it was just the things he said, and the things I said, it pushed some buttons, you know. I'm not really sad. I'm just sad about how I once felt about this, and how they literally have no idea. It's like they didn't even realize how much they were affecting me once. Like they don't realize how much this upset me when I was younger, I don't think they have any idea," he said with his face buried in my neck. We were still clinging onto each other.

His words nearly killed me. The idea of Carter being a little boy and being upset over his parents ignoring him was so heartbreaking.

"I don't know what to say." I couldn't find the words.

"You don't have to say anything," he said and let go of me. "It's not your fault, you know," he simply laughed a little. He wiped his cheeks and it almost looked like he wasn't crying just before, but I knew he had.

"I know, but I don't want you to be sad," I said and looked into his eyes. He reached out and touched my cheek. He pushed a lock of my hair behind my ear.

"I love you, more than anything else. Do you know that?" I smiled and nodded.

"I know that. Do you know I feel the same about you?" He nodded and looked slightly away with a smile. He almost looked shy. I didn't think it was possible to make Carter Woods feel shy.

"Okay, enough of the crying thing, let's go watch some TV. By the way, I'm so sorry for leaving you with them, I didn't even think about it when I left. I just needed to leave at that moment," he said with a chuckle.

"It's fine, I get it."

We sat down on his bed and he turned on the TV. Though I don't think neither of us was watching it. A question was nagging me, but I didn't know if I dared to ask.

"Carter?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think maybe your dad is just worried about you? I mean it is fighting." I felt as if I had to step carefully, but I needed to know.

His body tensed a little and he looked slightly upset over the question. Not sad, but mad.

"No, I don't think so. Emily, you don't know my father, he hasn't been worried about me ever since five years ago when I had to look after his wallet. He doesn't care. And you're sounding just like him," he spat. Was he angry with me?

"Well, maybe he is worried after all. Maybe he just doesn't know how to express it? Couldn't that be?" He scoffed at that.

"As I said, he doesn't care. But why did you say 'I mean it is fighting'? Are you disapproving it as well?" The way he spoke. I had pushed his buttons without even knowing it, but he shouldn't take it out on me. 

"No, you know I support you. But, Carter, don't take out your problems on me. I'm sorry for how you've felt as a kid, but don't go against me. Talk to me instead," I said feeling a little agitated by his outbreak on me.