“You can get to twenty, Trev,” she said as he lifted a small dumbbell above his head. When he hit twenty, she shouted, “See, I told you!” I clapped, but she seemed genuinely happy for him. They had accomplished something together. I noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding band, or even a tawdry promise ring.
After the session, they high-fived each other, and I thought that it seemed like the beginning of a nice friendship.
Back outside, near the pool, I said, “Do you like her? Melissa?”
“Yeah, she’s great. I wouldn’t be able to get through this without her.”
“That’s not really what I mean.”
He swallowed, and his smile faded. “What do you mean? I haven’t touched her, if that’s what you’re getting at. Not only would I not do that, but I’m sure it’s highly unacceptable behavior for a therapist to start cavorting with her rehab patients.”
“I’m not implying that either. I’m just wondering . . . if she wasn’t your physical therapist and you weren’t in recovery, would you . . .”
“There’s a spark, but that’s it.”
I stood up. “Can I hug you, Trevor?” He stood instantly and took me in his arms. I knew what was coming, and I knew it would hurt like hell, but I had to do it.
“What is it, Emi?”
I sniffled. “When you’re out of here in a week and you’re not in recovery and you’re not her patient, you should see about the spark.”
His arms tightened around me. “What are you talking about?”
“Trevor, I love you. I want to be in your life. I want to see you through this.” I stepped out of his embrace and looked up into his sympathetic eyes. “But you know that when you think of a wife, you don’t think of me.” He looked down at his shoes. “It’s okay,” I said. “This could be the best thing for us, after it stops being the worst.”
Stepping forward, he reached out and pulled me into his arms again and then buried his face in my neck. “I know you’re right. I read the book, you know. While you were away. I’ve never been jealous of him, really. I just didn’t want to see you hurt anymore. I care about you.”
“But you know we aren’t right for each other, right?”
He nodded. “I do.”
“Will we be friends?”
“You are my friend. Now. You brought me here and saved me, and I want you in my life too.”
He held my hand as he walked me to the front. Near the door, he bent, kissed my cheek, and whispered, “Thank you.”
“Stick with it, number seventeen.” I socked him in the chest.
“’Bye, Emi.”
As I walked to my car, I said good-bye to Emi, the girl who begrudgingly went to frat parties and football games; the girl who pretended like everything was always okay while unenthusiastically teaching Intro to Writing classes; the girl with no past; the girl who wasn’t real and didn’t exist.
Once I got back to my apartment, I sat down and started writing.
17. How We See Ourselves
Over the next month, I did nothing but work, write, and send updates to Professor James, Cara, and Jase.
One morning, after I finished the full first draft, I got an email from Andrea. She told me that Professor James had reached out to her about my book, and that she wanted to talk. I sped all the way to campus and ran through the halls to the professor’s office, where Cara was chatting with him eagerly.
“Hey, girl,” she said. “Looking for me?”
I didn’t look at her. “Professor,” I said, out of breath.
Before I could get anything out, he said, “I knew she was J. Colby’s agent and that she’d probably give it a look if you’d let her. You’re a better writer today than you were five years ago, and that means my job here is done.” He got up.
“Wait,” I said.
“Really there’s nothing to say. Cara is well on her way out, and you . . . you have a book in its infancy, but a book nonetheless. Go forth and write, my dears. You’ve got the whole summer ahead of you. If you want to remain here, Emiline, I will gladly keep you on staff, but I have a feeling that won’t be happening.”
“Thank you, thank you so much!”
“Go, both of you, get out of here.” He chuckled a husky, warm laugh from his belly.
Cara looped her arm in mine as we headed toward the parking lot. “See, I told you.”
“Thanks for putting up with my shit this year, Cara. You’ve been a really good friend.”
She stopped walking. “What do you think about moving to New York with me? Let’s do it, Em. Let’s totally live the life and be writers.”
I laughed. “It does sound amazing. But you’re moving in with Henry, no?”
She shook her head. “I’ll be with Henry, but we’re not moving in together right away. He’s busy becoming a surgeon, and I’ll need some time to get myself established there. What do you say? Roomies?”
“I’ll definitely think about it.” It did sound enticing, the freedom to finally be able to be me.
And I did think about it. I thought about it until there was no other answer.
I was going.
18. Everyone Around You