Page 83 of Jesse

I can feel that this is a hard limit for her but I’m still reluctant. “Johnny’s the only one who goes down there.” I say that more for my benefit than hers.

Because even though I don’t really know what Johnny does with his time, I have an idea. And whatever is left of the family floor below this one, it’s probably been claimed by Johnny.

I don’t want to start there. I don’t want her to see that. Not yet. Not first.

“I want to see it, Jesse.”

“It’s not me,” I say. “This is me. See this.”

“That first. Why are you so resistant? It’s just a place. What are you afraid of finding? What are you afraid I’ll see?”

“I don’t know.” And it’s the truth. Mostly. But I have an idea of what could be down there. And I don’t want to find out for sure this way. Not with Emma next to me. Judging me.

“Take me,” she says. “If you like me, you should trust me.”

I laugh. “That’s funny. Because you sure have jumped to a lot of conclusions about me over the years.”

“Maybe that’s because you fed me a lot of lies, Jesse. Now’s your chance to show me the truth.”

“You know what? Fine. Fuck it. Let’s go.”

I turn towards the elevators and find Zach standing there. “Dude.” I laugh. “What the fuck. You snuck up on us.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Zach asks, looking at Emma, then me.

“We’re going downstairs.”

“Yeah, I heard that part. Why?”

“Because I want to see it,” Emma says.

“Who gives a fuck what you want?” Zach says, glaring at her. Then he looks at me and shakes his head. “Don’t do it.”

“Why?” Emma asks.

He points at her. “Be quiet, Emma. This isn’t about you. This is about him.” And then he points to me.

There’s a long moment of silence as Zach and I lock eyes. “Do you know what’s down there?” I ask.

“No,” he says. “But I can guess. And so can you. And she can’t see that.”

“Why?” Emma demands.

Neither Zach, nor I, even look at Emma. We just continue to stare at each other. I shrug. “Maybe it’s time to know.”

He looks at Emma and says, “Go home, Emma.”

“No,” she says. “I’m not leaving unless Jesse kicks me out.” Then she turns to me and says, “If you tell me to leave, I will. But I’ll never come back.”

Up until this girl, in this moment, I wouldn’t have hesitated to say, Get the fuck out.

But I think about our day yesterday. Her home town, her family dive shop, her family. My standing invitation for Saturday night dinners. The trimaran, the sailing, the sandbar, the diving, the sunset, and the stars.

What a perfect day.

And I admit, I want more of that. I want her. I think only Emma Dumas, of all the possible women in this world, can handle this. Can handle me. Us. My family.

“Zach,” I say.