CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
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JAMES
The waking up process for me has always been painful—agonising. I never understood why there was such a need for people to wake up on cold mornings. Why couldn’t we, like in the animal kingdom, hibernate.
Today was different. The thought of opening my eyes didn’t hurt.
After getting dressed, I stood at the door of Emma’s room and watched her sleep. If she knew, she would kick me for being a weirdo. But this was as close as I could get to her before it was over.
This morning she looked so peaceful. I could stare forever at the way her chest rose and fell as she breathed, the way her red curls spread on the white pillows, and how her rosy cheeks gave colour to the rest of the pale room. She was, cheesy as it sounded, pretty as a picture. Her lips parted, taking in a big breath. I wanted to kiss her and wondered if they were as soft as I’d imagined.
Although I didn’t want to wake her up, it was time for me to get ready and go. I was meeting Michael and Jack, as well as Jane’s staff; they were deciding what to do with our fake relationship, to determine when and how to terminate it.
I couldn’t wait to tell Emma, to explain how I felt, and hopefully make her mine forever.
“Good morning,” she slurred, still with her eyes closed.
“Morning to you too,” I answered, my fingers itching to trace small circles on her exposed arm.
I must have stared at her for too long, wondering if she was wearing anything else under those blankets, when I felt a pillow hitting my face.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she demanded, a lazy smile on her lips.
“Like what?” I asked, feigning innocence.
I tried to compose myself. I could see she wore a T-shirt, but couldn’t stop thinking if she had trousers underneath or if she slept in her underwear.
She blushed and pulled the blanket up to her neck. “You know, like that. Now go away. I need to get dressed.”
I stood rooted to the spot, hoping she would remove the blankets and put me out of my misery. Instead, she looked at me and cleared her throat.
“Okay, I’ll go. But it’s not like I haven’t seen it before.” I grinned, and she flung another pillow in my direction.
“Breakfast?” I asked from the doorway, a safe distance away from any possible flying objects.
She shouted a muffled yes as I closed the door.
I wasn’t sure what she liked to eat on her bagel in the morning. I had my usual salmon but ordered other ones for her, and in case she didn’t like bagels, I also ordered fruit salad, toast, and coffee.
When she came through, she sat on a stool and chose a bagel with cream cheese and jam. She didn’t look in my direction and didn’t say a word.
I knew her body language, like I knew my own. Her tells were still the same. She had something to say, but didn’t know how to start.
After taking a bite of her breakfast, she sighed in contentment and stared at me in silence. “What happened to your dad?”
I bit back my sigh, not wanting to talk about it. Just recalling his face made my stomach ache, but I couldn’t put off the conversation any longer. I already kept enough secrets from her.
The lump in my throat grew and blocked my breathing. I swallowed and tried again. Emma stayed quiet, looking at me as she picked at her food with her fingers.
“He was diagnosed with lung cancer before we moved to California. He lied to me because he didn’t want me to worry. I knew there was something wrong. He was tired all the time, but he blamed the lack of sleep.” I took a big breath before continuing, “He thought that being close to my mum’s family would be easier in the long run. He also believed that there was a specialist who could help him beat it. Instead, the cancer spread to his lymph nodes.”
I could feel the tears burning my eyes. The last thing I needed was to cry in front of Emma. I didn’t want her to think of me as weak, but I hadn’t talked about this to anyone. Not even to my mother.
“He was hospitalised for a very long time, suffering every single day. The worst thing is that I was so angry with him, for getting ill and for making us move, that I never went to see him in the hospital. He died before I could apologise, before I could say goodbye.”
Emma tried to calm me down, but the emotions I had blocked inside resurfaced in a violent outburst. I couldn’t stop the words shooting out of my mouth.
“I hate myself for being so selfish, for not telling him that I loved him and that I understood.” I punched the wall behind me, the instant pain in my fingers relieving part of the misery I felt inside.
Emma ran towards me and wrapped her arms around me.
“James, you were young. There’s no way you can blame yourself. He knew you loved him, deep down. I’m sure he knew that you forgave him. It looks like he was trying to make sure his family was okay.”
The only thing I remembered next was clutching Emma for dear life as I broke down. Tears rolled down my cheeks and onto her skin.
The weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I couldn’t say it didn’t bother me, or even make me paranoid that Emma thought less of me, but her comfort made it easier.