I wished for the umpteenth time that I could at least tell Ashley where I was so she could come visit me, but Dean had expressly forbidden it. I couldn’t tell anyone—not even my parents—that I was back in town, because anyone connected with me was probably being watched. I told him he was paranoid and crazy and he looked at me with icy blue eyes until I finally relented.
I felt lost. Without my friends or family, there was nothing in Iowa that I wanted. Without Jack and Rachel, there was nothing in New York that wanted me. I was in my home state, but I couldn’t have been farther away from home if I tried.
“Celebrities Revealed! Look who is back in rehab? The troubled starlet was seen checking in-” The TV blared out, suddenly loud as a tabloid show flashed on the screen. I flopped around on the bed, trying to find the remote. “Where is Emma LaRue? Are the two lovers splitting up?”
At my name, I turned to the screen. A video of Jack carrying me out of the restaurant as the paparazzi swarmed us flashed across the screen, making my chest squeeze. Jack’s eyes flashed furious as he cradled me close to him, protective and fierce. I could almost smell his cologne, the soft scent of his soap as I remembered. The void in my chest threatened to swallow me whole. I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking the tears that wanted to escape. I’m past this, I told myself. If I said it enough times, it would be true.
“Emma LaRue has not been seen entering the DS Oil and Gas Building for almost a week after weeks of almost nightly visits. No sightings of her, or the happy couple anywhere in New York.” The screen flashed to a video of Jack in his office. Someone with a camera was in the grand entrance looking through his open office door. He looked worn and tired, dark circles under his eyes. He seemed to carry a heavy weight across his shoulders, heavier than I had ever seen. Upon seeing the camera, his eyes blazed and the door to his office slammed shut, the angry face of Jeannette filling the screen before cutting back to a picture of me smiling in Times Square. “Jack Saunders appears hard at work, so where is the lovely Emma?”
I barely recognized myself in the photograph. The hair was mine, the arms and legs were right, the clothing matched something I knew was piled on the floor in the closet, but the smile was something foreign. I had been so happy. All the joy from loving Jack radiated out of that smile, filling the picture with sunny warmth. It was only on the screen for a moment before the announcer shifted stories, and grainy pictures of a long legged blonde woman in compromising positions filled the screen.
“What are you watching?” Dean asked, stepping through the doorway. I hadn’t even heard him knock, but I had given him a key. He stood with a bag of groceries, a perplexed look on his face as he watched the blurred images of a lurid sex tape flit across the screen. I finally found the remote and hit the power button.
The TV died with an electronic hiss. “Nothing worth watching,” I said sitting up. He set the food down on the table and walked over to the window, pulling the drapes open. I hissed like a vampire as bright sun flooded the room.
“It is a gorgeous day outside. You haven’t been out of this hotel room in over three days and—”
“I went to the courtyard on Monday!” I interjected. He gave me a look that made it very clear what he thought of that.
“The courtyard doesn’t count as outside. The crab apple trees are blooming and you are within walking distance of one of the largest collections of flowering crab apple trees in the world. Arie den Boer Arboretum is just down the road. You are going to get up, get dressed, and go take a walk. Absorb nature.”
“I don’t wanna.”
“Don’t make me make you.” He gave me the same look my father used to give when I didn’t want to do my chores.
I sighed and rolled off the bed. It was easier to appease him than to fight him. Besides, I hadn’t been to the ‘crabby-apple park’ since I was a kid. I remembered that some horticulturist had collected hundreds of varieties of flowering crab apple trees and planted them in a park. My dad would take me for a picnic lunch when the trees first went into bloom until I started high school and decided it wasn’t cool anymore.
Dean put the groceries in the mini fridge as I changed in the bathroom. It felt good to get out of my scrubs and into real clothes again. Just changing made the world feel a little better. I ran a brush through my hair before pulling it up into a messy bun and throwing a hat on my head. I didn’t want to wear the wig. I was tired of being fake.
I stepped out and Dean did a once over, handing me a pair of sunglasses before deciding I looked nondescript enough to venture outside. I was beginning to feel excited about seeing the trees. There was a river that ran along the park, and I remembered ducklings and goslings playing in the grass under the pink and white blossoms. Dean nodded his approval as I slid on sneakers, a smile starting to form on my lips. This was the happiest I had felt since I arrived.