The One Real Thing
Page 46

 Samantha Young

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Yet, I shouldn’t have been surprised when Emery just nodded. “You think that if you leave now before things between you get more intense, then it won’t hurt as much as it would if he left you down the line.”
I relaxed at her complete understanding of the situation. “Exactly.”
She gave me a sad smile. “I wish I could give you a huge dose of encouragement, but I think it would make me too much of a hypocrite. I’d probably do exactly what you’re doing.”
In that moment I temporarily forgot my own problems as it occurred to me this was the most I’d ever gotten out of Emery. My curiosity, as always, was piqued. What was it that she was hiding? I felt a kinship with her I couldn’t explain and my fear for her was that our kinship came from a similarly dark place in our pasts.
God, I hoped not. Emery Saunders seemed like such a sweet soul.
“When do you leave?” she suddenly asked.
I felt a pang in my chest again, this one at the thought of putting Hartwell behind me. “In a few days.”
“You like it here,” she observed.
“Very much.”
“What do you like about it?”
That was something I found difficult to put into words. Finally I said softly, “I feel at peace here.”
Emery gave me a slow, sad smile. “That’s why I like it, too.”
The poignant moment between us was broken when the bell over her door jingled and Bailey was suddenly there, hurrying up the steps to the reading area. Her eyes widened a little at the sight of Emery sitting with me. Emery immediately popped up from her seat.
“Emery,” Bailey said with a soft smile. “How are you?”
Emery returned her smile with a shy one of her own. “Good, thank you. And you?”
Bailey tried to hide her surprise. “I’m good, too. It’s nice to see you.”
“Oh. You, too.”
Bailey threw herself down on the sofa beside me as Emery hurried off, busying herself down in the bookstore. “Wow. She actually responded to me.”
I smiled as if to say, I told you so.
She scowled at me suddenly. “What happened last night between you and Cooper?”
What the hell? How did she even know something had happened? I sighed heavily. “I had the most intense make-out session of my life.”
“Well . . .” She made a face. “Isn’t that a good thing? The ‘most intense make-out session’ thing . . . that’s good, right?”
“No. That’s not good. I’m going back to Wilmington in a few days.”
Bailey narrowed her eyes on my face. “Do you realize you never call it ‘home’?”
“What?”
“You never say, ‘I’m going home.’ You never call Wilmington home.”
When I didn’t say anything, because I wasn’t sure what I could say, Bailey continued. “I don’t think you’re happy there, Jess.”
Not this again!
Was I wearing a neon sign that said, “I’m Jessica Huntington and I’m incredibly unhappy!”?
“I’m not moving to Hartwell for a guy I barely know,” I said defensively and as a diversion tactic.
It didn’t work.
She glowered at me. “This isn’t about Cooper. If Hartwell is a big old cake you want to eat but are denying yourself, Cooper is just the cherry on the cake.”
“What?”
She sighed dramatically. “I’m not saying this because I found a good friend I really don’t want to lose. I’m saying this because in the short time that we’ve gotten really close you hardly ever talk about Wilmington or about your job there. Most people I know talk about their job nearly all the time or about where they live. Not you, Jess. It’s like it makes you sad to even think about it. So my questions are: Are you happy there? And are you happy being a doctor?”
Fear made my chest tight and I felt my breathing come short and fast. I lay back against the sofa and started breathing slow and easy.
“Jess, are you okay?”
I waved her off. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay.”
Bailey waited patiently by my side. When I finally felt like I’d gotten over my minor panic attack, I looked at her and gave her the same honesty I’d given Cooper. “I don’t know if I’m happy. But I’m good at my job. Plus I made a commitment there. I need to go back.”
She looked suddenly outraged. “Even if you’re not happy?”
“Bailey, we aren’t kids anymore. Sometimes we have to do things that we don’t like. That’s life.”
“No, that’s being a martyr,” she argued. “We all have to do things we don’t like, you’re right. And a lot of people don’t have a choice. They work crappy jobs and live in crappy homes because that’s all they’ll ever have and they don’t have the strength or the opportunity to reach for more. But you’re not one of those people, Jessica. You’re educated. You’re strong. You have friends here. You have options. You don’t have to work in a prison infirmary if you don’t want to. You don’t have to live in a town you don’t like if you don’t want to. So tell me this: why do you feel like you don’t deserve to be happy?”
I sucked in a breath, shocked as hell at her perceptiveness.
I swallowed hard because now that Bailey knew I had a secret, it was game over in Hartwell for me. I would never be able to withstand interrogations about my personal life.