Chapter 57 057
EMILY
“Mummy, I don’t want to use the pills,” Zara whined, twisting her little face away from the spoon in my hand like it personally offended her.
I knelt in front of her on the living room rug, my knees sinking into the soft fibers. My back already ached from the long day, and my patience was wearing thin, but I kept my voice gentle. Calm. The way I had learned to sound even when I was barely holding it together.
“Baby, please,” I said softly. “Take it for Mummy, okay? Just one spoon.”
She shook her head harder, curls bouncing wildly. “No, no, no.”
I closed my eyes for half a second and breathed in through my nose.
We had already done this dance once today. And yesterday. And the day before that.
Before I could try again, the doorbell rang.
I groaned quietly, more tired than annoyed, and placed the spoon carefully on the small table beside us.
“Hold on, sweetheart,” I said, standing up. “Don’t move.”
She crossed her arms dramatically and huffed like she had been deeply wronged.
I walked to the door and pulled it open.
Ryan stood there.
He looked casual in jeans and a navy hoodie, hands in his pockets. His hair was slightly messy, probably from the wind. He looked… fine. Comfortable.
Before I could say a word, Zara saw him.
“Daddy!” she screamed.
She bolted past me, little feet slapping against the floor, and crashed straight into his legs. He laughed and scooped her up easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You shouldn’t be running, princess,” he said, adjusting her in his arms.
She giggled and wrapped her arms tight around his neck. “I missed you!”
My chest tightened in that familiar, confusing way. Half relief. Half irritation. All feelings I didn’t have time to unpack.
I mumbled something under my breath and rubbed my temple.
Ryan glanced at me over her shoulder. “Hi, Em.”
“Hi, Ry,” I replied, already tired. “Please, can you get your daughter to use her drugs? She’s stressing me out.”
He chuckled. The sound hit me harder than it should have. It was the same laugh I used to fall asleep next to. The same one that used to calm me without trying.
He turned Zara so she was facing him. “Come on,” he said gently. “You have to use your drugs if you want to go to mine tonight.”
Her face fell instantly.
She pouted, lower lip pushed out, eyes narrowing like she was considering all her options. For a second, I thought she might argue again.
Then she wriggled out of his arms, marched over to me with dramatic little stomps, and held out her hand.
I laughed despite myself.
“Good girl,” I said softly.
I picked up the spoon and made sure she swallowed every drop. I watched carefully like always, making sure nothing spilled or got hidden in her cheek. When she was done, I handed her an apple slice.
She crunched into it happily and ran straight back to Ryan.
I stood up and moved closer, reaching for the overnight bag I had packed earlier and set by the door. I handed it to him, careful not to rush, careful not to think too much.
“See you tomorrow,” I said.
His fingers brushed mine when he took the bag. It lasted less than a second. It was nothing. Just skin touching skin. Accidental.
Still, it sent a small spark through me.
I hated myself for noticing it. Hated that my body remembered him so easily, even when my mind kept telling me to be smarter.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
I swallowed. My throat felt tight again. “Thank you, Ryan… Aaron told me about how you cleared my loans.”
He shrugged like it was no big deal. Like he hadn’t just lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. Like he hadn’t stepped in and fixed something that had been keeping me awake at night.
“It’s nothing,” he said.
It wasn’t nothing. Not even close. And we both knew it.
He hesitated then. A long pause settled between us. He didn’t move. Didn’t look away. His eyes stayed on my face like he was searching for something. Maybe weakness. Maybe strength.
“Are you doing good, Emily?” he asked.
The question was simple. Too simple for how much it stirred inside me.
My throat tightened. I forced myself to breathe and nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
He nodded back slowly. “That’s good.”
Zara hit his shoulder playfully, pulling him back into the moment. “Come on, Dad!”
He laughed softly and adjusted his grip on the bag. Then he looked at me again. This time, his smile was different. Softer. Familiar. Dangerous in the way only he could be.
“Take care,” he said.
Zara waved with both hands. “Bye, Mummy!”
“Bye, baby,” I said, forcing a smile that felt a little too tight.
They walked away together. I stayed where I was, standing in the doorway, watching as they climbed into the car. The engine started. The headlights came on. The car pulled away slowly.
I didn’t move.
I watched the taillights until they disappeared at the end of the street. My arms felt empty, like they were missing something they were used to holding. My chest felt full, heavy with things I wasn’t ready to name.
When the car was gone, I closed the door.
The sound echoed through the house.
The silence that followed felt louder than any noise. Too quiet. Too still. The kind of quiet that made your thoughts sound sharper.
I leaned my forehead against the door for a second and closed my eyes. Just one second. Then I straightened up.
I decided to freshen up.
The shower filled the bathroom with steam. The water was hot, beating down on my shoulders and the back of my neck. I stood there longer than necessary, letting it run over me, letting it wash away some of the tension I had been carrying all day.
I washed my hair slowly. Carefully. Like I was trying to rinse away thoughts instead of shampoo. Like if I took my time, maybe my mind would quiet down too.
When I was done, I wrapped myself in a robe and towel-dried my curls. I walked back into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under my weight, familiar and grounding.
I picked up my phone.
No new messages.
I sighed and set it down, then picked it up again almost immediately.
On impulse, I opened my browser and searched for dating sites.
I didn’t overthink it. I knew if I did, I would stop myself. I would make excuses. I would tell myself it was pointless.
I clicked the first option that popped up.
True Love.
I created a profile. Simple pictures. Honest bio. Nothing flashy. No pretending. Just me as I was now.
Then I waited.
I refreshed the page.
Nothing.
I waited a little longer and refreshed again.
Still nothing.
After thirty minutes, I dropped the phone onto the nightstand with a soft thud and turned onto my side. I pulled the blanket up and stared at the wall, telling myself I didn’t care.
Then my phone dinged.
The sound cut through the quiet.
I reached for it and looked at the screen.
You’ve got a match.