Kentucky Home

Chapter 10

Emma

Well. I think I hit a nerve.

"I get it," I start to say as I follow him to the living room.

He plops onto the couch throwing his feet onto the coffee table. "No, Emma. You don't get it. And that's okay. I don't want you to ever have to get it. No one should have to understand what it's like to begin to pursue their dreams all while leaving their family and everything they've ever known behind. Then, suddenly have the rug ripped from beneath them causing them to eternally put their dreams on hold to parent their kid sister, farm their family's land, and take on finances that are deep in the red. Does any of that sound familiar to you?" He asks, finally looking at me.

I don't have the nerve to respond, but I'm pretty sure the shocked look on my face says it all. He looks away without another word, obviously done with the conversation. He turns the television on with one click of the remote. I don't stay to find out what he's watching as I make my way up the stairs.

There's nothing else that I can say to turn the conversation around. It's better to just excuse myself, because he's right. I don't understand. Even though I want to, I will never understand his kind of loss. Nothing about his life is what he imagined, yet he doesn't seem to hate it.

I think I did everything I could to go the opposite direction from where I grew up. I needed something bigger, more successful. I did everything I could to make that happen without once dreaming.

I never dreamed. I just went for it. Although that seems commendable, it's neither brave nor admirable. I never reached for a goal I doubted I'd accomplish. It was almost too easy.

I still don't know what I'm passionate about nor do I have any idea what the ideal dream for me would be, but if I had to define the term dream it would be a burning fire in the pit of ones belly that seems almost impossible to reach. Something that could bring on fear, insecurities, failure, and disappointment. Something that shows a person who they really are and what they're willing to fight for. Something that shows strength and bravery, and when accomplished it doesn't matter who notices. Because it's not anyone else you've been competing against, not really. It's yourself.

I turn the water on in the shower letting steam fill the room. It's odd that an old farmhouse would have a master bathroom. Cash's parents must have added on at some point.

The scalding water hits my skin as I step inside. "Damn it. Ouch. Shit." I jump around the water trying to effectively turn it down. I watch the water puddle around the drain before being sucked in, and I swear I see some of my melted skin being vacuumed with it.

The lukewarm water feels good against my scorched skin. I quickly wash and turn the water off. As soon as I pull the curtain open a burst of cold air chills my spine even though steam lingers in the air.

I wrap the fluffy, white towel securely around my body before opening the door to the bedroom. Grabbing the rubber band from my wrist I toss my hair into a quick bun, but before I can release my hands a voice scares me half to death.

"I haven't been in here since my parents-." He cuts off as he turns around seeing me in my towel. All while my hand is stuck in the rubber band on top of my head, I jump and scream at his unexpected presence. I suppose my towel wasn't as secure as I thought because it doesn't hesitate to drop to my ankles.

Now, we're both staring at each other, stunned at the fact that I am standing butt ass naked in front of him.

Snapping back to reality, I reach down with my free hand not even attempting to loosen my other hand from my wet hair, grabbing the towel somewhat covering my nakedness.