Emery’s warmth ebbed from my hands as she pulled away, and she nodded once toward me as if it were our final goodbye as Mom rushed toward me and drew me into a hug.

“Oh my gosh, Oliver! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Mom. I’m fine,” I lied.

Sometimes it was easier to tell the truth to strangers. Your truth wouldn’t hurt them as badly. I knew if my parents knew I wasn’t okay, it would eat at their souls. I didn’t need them worrying about my well-being after I’d been the cause of them losing the other half of their hearts.

When I glanced back at Emery, she gave me a halfway grin, noting the lie I’d told my parents, and I gave her a lopsided, weak smile back. When she looked my way, it was as if she was saying, I see you, Oliver, and you’ll be okay. Then she nodded once and put her car in reverse and drove away. Unlike how I’d crashed into her world, she slowly retreated from mine in a much classier fashion.

“Why did you fly out here?” I asked as Dad pulled me into a briefer embrace than Mom had.

“Well, we heard last minute you were doing a show, so we figured you could use some family support,” Dad said. “Then, when we landed, we weren’t able to get ahold of you, so we got worried.”

Mom’s eyes watered over as she hugged me again. “I was so scared that something happened to you.”

The heaviness of her words and the fear that was in her made me feel like the worst son in the world. “Sorry, Mom. My phone died, and I haven’t been able to make it back home until now. I’m sorry for the stress. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

She placed one hand against the half heart around my neck and her other hand against my cheek as she smiled at me with tears. Then she smacked my cheek and sniffled. “Don’t ever do that again, or so help me, I’m putting a tracker in your phone. Now let us inside. You look hungry. Let me make you some food.” Mom headed toward the front door of my house, and Dad lingered behind a bit.

My father wasn’t as chatty as Mom. He didn’t really say much, except for when words were needed. I was like him in that way, while Alex was more like Mom. He placed a comforting hand against my shoulder and squeezed.

“You all right, son?” he asked, his voice deep, low, and calm as ever. I couldn’t remember a time Dad ever raised his voice. He may have been the most down-to-earth person I’d ever come across.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

He nodded in acceptance of my answer. “Who was that who dropped you off?”

“Just a woman who was kind enough to help me out last night.”

“A good-looking woman,” Dad said with a smirk plastered on his face as he nudged me in the shoulder.

“Really? I didn’t notice. I was just trying to make it home.”

He chuckled. “Liar.”

True. It was almost impossible to not notice Emery’s beauty. If I were a different man with different struggles, I would’ve asked for her number. But the world I lived in didn’t really match the world where she resided. Her world seemed more stable.

Plus, there was Cam.

I wondered how many messages I’d received from her on my dead cell phone.

“You want to talk about what happened yesterday?” Dad asked as we walked up the stairs of my porch.

“Not now.”

“Okay. When you’re ready, we’ll be here.”

If patience were human, it would be my parents. They never pressured me to talk about the thoughts that were flooding my mind. Most of the time, they simply randomly showed up and cooked me a lot of food as we listened to music and talked about anything and everything outside of my career and emotions.

I knew that the day I was ready to open up to them, they’d be there for me. There was a comfort in knowing that even when one was lost, home was always right there around the corner. As I ate my meal and chatted with my parents, I felt a little less alone.

Then, without my permission, my mind wandered to Emery. She was one of the better places that my mind had wandered as of late, and I didn’t hate the fact that she was there.

8

EMERY

My sister and I used to be best friends.

We used to tell one another every secret and comfort each other whenever our parents were too harsh on us. Too harsh on me. My parents were never hard on Sammie. Maybe because she was the youngest. Maybe because they loved her a little more. Maybe because she was the golden child who’d never done anything wrong.

Over the past five years since Reese was born, our relationship had shifted. We didn’t talk like we used to, and when we did, the conversations felt forced. Though sometimes we’d chat, and it would feel like the old days when she had my back and I had hers, and we’d tell one another all the best secrets in our hearts.