Page 92 of Jesse

Innocence was never lost.

I make love to her and rewrite the past in simultaneous moments. Living two lives at once, we stay together and become that couple. Only we don’t fight, or hate-fuck, or ruin it with bad decisions and hurtful words. We never break up so we never get back together. We never destroy each other from the inside out.

It’s possible, I think, as we come together.

It’s possible to rise above it when you love someone and only want what’s best for them.

I don’t know how long we lie in my bed holding each other afterwards. Maybe minutes. Maybe lifetimes. But all things end eventually, so I get up, pull on my pants and head for the door.

“Where are you going?” Emma asks sleepily. It’s late now. Probably after midnight.

“To get us that drink,” I say. Then I lean down and kiss her on the lips. “Be right back.”

I find Zach in his living area, fingers flying as he texts on his phone. “Did you get it?”

He nods. “In the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” I say.

“It’s a dumb idea,” he says, only half paying attention to me as he concentrates on his silent conversation.

“It’s the only way out of this now,” I say, heading down the hallway to his kitchen.

I find a silver tray on the center island with a bottle of sparkling cider in an ice bucket.

Two glasses.

And one pill.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE - EMMA

Somewhere something is buzzing. I want it to stop very badly, but I can’t open my eyes so I give up and just drift off to somewhere else where there is no annoying buzz.

But again, it comes back. That incessant buzzing won’t leave me alone.

What the fuck is it?

I don’t know. I don’t care. I do my best to drift.

Still, there is more buzzing.

“What the fuck?” I groan. My head is pounding and my mouth is dry. Nothing makes sense.

It takes me a while to remember where I am.

Jesse’s place.

Now that wakes me up. I turn over, smiling as I try and force my eyes open. Can’t really manage that, so I reach out for him and find… an empty bed.

“Jesse?” I groan.

Nothing but buzzing. And it comes to me what that buzzing is.

My phone.

“Shit,” I say, rolling over and propping myself up on my elbows. I crack one eye open and realize… I’m in my bedroom. In my own bed. Alone.

I sit up and regret it immediately when the headache grows to the level of lightning splitting a tree in half, and shield my eyes from the inpouring sun.