Breaking the Wrong (43 page)

“She left.”

She says her words so firmly and simply. I can’t wrap my head around it. I blink and shake my head. “What?” I ask dumbly.

“She’s gone.” Severine lea
ns against the doorframe and narrows her eyes at me. “Emilia moved back home a few days ago.”

“Why didn’t you call me or tell me?” I shout. Severin
e opens her mouth but I quickly speak up and point an accusing finger at her. “You were the one that was all for us getting back together and you just let her leave?”

“She
made me promise not to say anything to you!” Severine shouts loudly.

I breathe through my nose and rub the back of
my neck. Everything is fucked up. I’m too late. The whole time Emilia was avoiding me, I never once thought that she was leaving campus altogether. Now that I know she’s gone, I feel nothing but panic.

“When did she leave?” I ask impatiently.

Severine looks at me coldly. “She left four days ago,” she says stiffly.

I look at her skeptically. “Why are you so pissed at me?”

“I’m pissed because she told me everything,” Severine says heatedly. “You slept with her and left her? Really, Macsen?”

Adjusting the bill of my hat, I lo
ok away. I knew it was a fucked-up move to leave her the next morning. “I needed to sort through my shit,” I mutter. “I had to figure out how I felt.” 

“S
o how do you feel?”

I cock my head to the
side. “Is your name, Emilia?” She looks at me woodenly and I give her a dark grin. “No, didn’t think so.”

“Do you want my help or not?” she snaps.

“I would say yes, but she’s already gone!” I point out quickly.

Severine rolls her eyes. “You need to go to New York
, and you need to tell her how you feel!”

For a second, I entertain the
idea of going to New York to get her. “Emilia left for a reason. Maybe she doesn’t want me to follow her.”

Severine looks down at the ground, and I know she’s hiding more information from me. We don’t get along but I need her help. She’s the only person who knows why Emilia left.

Swallowing my pride, I cross my arms and lower my voice. “Sev, I need you to tell me why she left.” She looks up at me with wide eyes and I say the one word that makes me cringe. “Please.”

Her lips thin into a tight line as she stares at me. She could slam the door in my face and tell me to fuck off. Our past gives her the right to ignore me, but I’m hoping like hell that she doesn’t turn me away.

Finally, she sighs and shakes her head. “She left because of you,” Severine admits quietly. I stay perfectly silent, dreading the rest of her words but needing to hear them at the same time. “She feels like you rejected her after you slept with her and it’s just too much to see you everywhere and not be able to be with you.” She gives me a pointed look as if this is my fault.

For once, I have to agree
with her.

“I regret leaving her the next morning, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

“Is my name Emilia?” Severine turns my words around on me. “No, didn’t think so.” She breathes through her nose and stabs a finger at my chest. “You need to tell her everything you’re telling me, because she left campus heartbroken. You have to fix it.”

I’m already backing away from the doorway and if I have to drive across the fucking country to talk to Emilia, I will.

Severine sees the determination in my eyes and smiles. “If you get her back, please don’t mess this up. I think Emilia is the only girl that will ever understand you, Macsen.”

I nod
and before I reach the stairs, I turn around. Severine is still leaning against the doorway, watching me. Solemnly, I point a finger at her. “Don’t tell her I’m coming.”

She drags her thumb and index finger across her lips and smirks. “I
won’t say a word.”

I shouldn’t believe her, but I do. “Thank you,” I tell her sincerely.

Severine shrugs her shoulders, trying to look nonchalant. “Well, we were due to have a kind moment sometime.”

I give her a grateful s
mile and hurry down the stairs. When I reach the door, I quickly jog toward my truck. It’s dark out and when I look at the flashing on the screen of the radio, it reads eight o’clock. I should go back to my apartment and wait until tomorrow morning. But I need to get to Emilia. I know what she’s feeling, and I need to tell her everything I feel. Or I really will lose her.

Peeling out of the parking lot, I drive
toward the highway, ready for the long drive ahead of me.

EMILIA

Methodically, I chop the carrots up into small pieces. My mom chatters happily across the kitchen island, discussing our plans for Christmas next week.

I give her
a smile and nod, pretending to be interested.

I’ve only been home for
a few days. It didn’t take me long to fall back into my old routine, but I’m just going through the motions, numbly trying to take each day at a time.

Last week, when I packed
up my stuff, I was too busy to really sit down and think. I just wanted to get out of there, away from Macsen. I left Kentucky with an optimistic heart, completely determined that when I parked my car outside my family’s house, everything would be okay.

But that optimism was just a temporary rush. It faded the second I laid in bed and sleep wouldn’t come. The truth shattered my naïve thoughts of forgettin
g Macsen because the truth is, I’ll never be able to forget him.

“Emilia?”

My head shoots up and I realize my mom’s waiting for me to answer her. “Sorry. What did you say?”

Wiping her hands on her apron, she gives me a strange look. “I ask
ed if we should have poinsettias or not? They’re the go-to flower for Christmas, but I don’t know. Oh!” Her face brightens. “What about orchids? Those would be beautiful!”

I dump the carrots into the glass bowl on the counter and shrug. The last
thing I wanted to talk about is centerpieces for Christmas. “Either one sounds great.”
She looks at me thoughtfully. “Are you okay?” 

Instantly, I turn and wash my hands at the sink. “Yeah,” I say
as I focus on scrubbing my hands. “I’m fine.”

I reach for the towel hanging on the oven door, but it’s dangling in my face. I
take the towel from my mom and look at her cautiously. One thing I have been enjoying about being back is the conversations with my mom. I’m seeing a different side of her, one that has been hidden since E died. She smiles more and cries less. I really do think she’s moving forward.

“What are you plans for school?” she asks casually.

The doorbell rings and I hear Eden laugh as she walks to the door. She’s been in the living room talking with Aniston.

It’s been years since the house has felt happy. Almost.

I look over at Mom and shrug. “I’ll sign up for next semester soon.”

Not one smile crosses her face. I rest my elbows on the counter and lean close. “You wanted me to transfer back to NYU,” I remind her.

“Emilia,” she sighs, “of course I wanted you to transfer. But I’ve wanted you to do things your whole life. I wanted you to take ballet classes as a child. I wanted you to be more social growing up. But you’re your own person, and I know I need to respect that.” My mom smiles at me, and I know it’s taking a lot for her to say this. “Do I want you here? Absolutely. But do you want to be here?”

Her question hangs in the air. And the longer I don’t answer her, the more apparent my answer becomes.

I came home because it felt like my only option. Macsen Sloan is the only reason I transferred schools. I came home where I belong.

But now that I’m here, I realize I’m
more miserable than before. Now I’m a thousand miles away from Macsen, wondering if he’s even thinking about me at all.

“Mom!” Eden calls out urgently. “Can you come here?”

My mom flings a hand in the air and unties her apron. “I think that’s the UPS man. I ordered a last minute gift for your dad.”

She hurries out of the room and I hear her heels click against the marble floor. I
stare around at the kitchen and start to absentmindedly dig into the brownies cooling on the counter. Pulling out my phone, I quickly type a message to Severine and pretend I’m curious about what she’s doing.

I look down at my text before I press send.
How is everything there?

It sounds casual enough, but my foot won’t stop tapping erratically against the floor as I wait for her response. And when my phone buzzes, I instantly look down at her response.
R u asking about Macsen?

No.
 
I type back instantly.

Severine responds a minute later.
I think he’s with Chris … or Thayer. U want me to call Thayer?

I frantically look at my screen.
NO! Forget it.

She sends back a smiley face and I practically toss my phone across the counter. Tightly, I grip my hair and take a deep breath. I’
m going to drive myself insane. I vow not to text Severine again.

I hear a deep voice and
then my mom’s voice. My head shoots up instantly. I frown before I walk across the room. I take a shortcut through the dining room and turn the corner to enter the foyer, but stop short when I hear that voice I know so well.

“I just need to talk to her.”

Hearing Macsen’s voice, I lean heavily against the wall. Breathing becomes impossible as it really sinks in that he’s standing on my family’s doorstep, talking to my sister and mom as though it happens every day.

“Why do you need to talk to her?” Eden quizzes.

“She left campus last week, before I got a chance to talk to her.”

My eye
s squeeze shut over his words. I peek my head out of the room like a weirdo and watch him. My dad walks into the foyer and stands next to Aniston. He peers at Macsen and tilts his head in confusion. Aniston looks at him and crosses his arms as he opens his mouth. “Why don’t you come in?” he asks. “This is Macsen Sloan.”

He towers over Eden and my mother. They look up at
him with shock. After Julian came clean to my family, the truth about Macsen came out. But I think it’s his appearance that has them gaping. I can’t really blame them. His coat is unzipped, revealing his wrinkled gray t-shirt. The scruff on his face is looking like a full-on beard. His green eyes that are always so bright are strained and tired.

I watch him walk into the foyer and my fingers curl around the end table next to me. I’m waiting for him to turn around and see me but he never does. Macsen walks into the family room with my family
, and I peek my head further out and watch him look around at the pictures hanging up.

My mom gestures for him to sit down and he does. I strain my ears to hear what everyone is saying but it’s difficult, it’s all muffled. Quickly, I turn
around and backtrack and take the long way toward the living room. My body won’t stop shaking as I quietly approach the living room door. I can’t help myself from listening to Macsen.

“Macsen,” my mom says levelly. I c
an picture her nodding her head demurely in his direction. “You said that you wanted to talk to Emilia?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Macsen says kindly. It shows just how ingrained thos
e upper class manners are. “She left campus before I got a chance to talk to her.”

He speaks so politely to my parents. And I know that on instinct my mom will be a pile of mush at his feet for that reason only.

“It must be something urgent,” Aniston comments.  

“It is.”

“You two were dating?” my mom asks. I can see the wheels in her head turning.

“For a short while we were,” Macsen admits.

“And now you aren’t,” my dads says bluntly.

“No, but that’s why I want to talk with her.”

For a few seconds no one says anything. Someone clears their throat. “She’s been very upset since she got home,” my mom comments. “Are you the reason for it?”

“Yes,” Macsen says truthfully. “I know I’ve hurt her, but I love her and it took me a
while to realize that. She needs to know exactly how I feel.”

My heart lurches into my throat and I can’t breathe. Ever
yone’s voices become fuzzy in my ears and I replay Macsen’s words over in my head. Someone whistles low. It sounds like Aniston. But no one says anything. I think they’re still trying to absorb everything Macsen just said.

My mom speaks first. Each time she speaks, her voice becomes softer and I can just picture the smile on her face. “Does she know that?”

“No.”

But I do now.
 

 
I’ve been waiting so long to hear those words from him, but now that he’s said them, I don’t know what to do. I propel from the wall and walk straight into the room.