EMMA

The highway stretched endlessly before us, the city lights flickering in the distance like a warning.

We were getting closer—closer to reality; closer to the inevitable.

I leaned against the cool glass of the window, watching the raindrops race down the surface, blurring the outside world.

Jake was quiet, his fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. The only sound between us was the low hum of the radio playing some old song I barely recognized.

And yet, despite the silence, there was no tension. Just warmth. Just comfort. Just the ghost of our I love yous still hanging in the air like a promise we weren't ready to let go of.

God, it had been perfect—more than perfect. The weekend, his family, the way his mother had made me feel like I belonged, the way his father had looked at him with so much pride, the way Jake had looked at me like I was his entire world. Like I could actually be his forever.

And for a brief, fleeting moment, I let myself believe it. But the second we crossed back into New York City, the illusion started to crack. The skyline came into view like a slap of reality, sharp and cold and unforgiving. A reminder that I wasn't really his forever. That I couldn't.

I was a lie. And lies never lasted...

I convinced Jake to drop me off at my apartment with one last, lingering kiss—a soft promise that we would see each other again soon, once we both had caught up on the chaos waiting for us back in the real world. He had a mountain of case files and emails to dig through. I had some of my own responsibilities to face.

But mine were heavier. More personal. Eric.

I told myself I would deal with him later, that I had a little time to catch my breath before everything unraveled. But as it turned out, I didn't have to wait long at all.

The moment I stepped into the apartment, I felt it. The weight in the air. Thick, unforgiving, like a storm had settled inside these walls, waiting for me to walk into it.

I barely had time to shut the door before I spotted him—Eric—sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles were white.

Alycia had probably told him I was returning today, and he was waiting. For me. For this.

I swallowed hard, pretending my pulse wasn't crashing against my ribs. Pretending I wasn't still carrying the softness of Jake's voice in my ears, the warmth of his touch in my skin, the echo of his I love you still lodged somewhere beneath my breastbone like something sacred and stolen.

I closed the door behind me and walked in slowly, as if moving too fast might set the whole thing off.

And yet, when I looked at him, I found myself wanting to cross the room and bury my face in his shoulder. Tell him I was spiraling. That I didn't know what I was doing anymore. That I was scared. But the look on his face stopped me cold.

So instead, I cleared my throat, keeping my voice easy. "Eric. It's been a while."

A foolish part of me thought that maybe if I pretended this was just a normal conversation, it would become one. But Eric didn't move. Didn't blink. He just sat there, his expression cold, his jaw tight, his shoulders tense in a way that made my stomach twist.

"Imagine my shock," he finally said, his voice even, too controlled. "When I found out you spent Thanksgiving with your boyfriend's family."

I sighed, forcing myself to keep moving, shrugging off my coat, anything to make it look like my world wasn't unraveling at the seams.

"Wow," I said, tossing my coat over the chair, keeping my tone casual, like my heart wasn't hammering inside my chest. "You make it sound so scandalous."

Eric's jaw clenched, but he didn't take the bait. "Don't do that."

I turned to face him, arching a brow. "Do what?"

"Act like this isn't a big deal."

"Eric, it's not—"

"Emma." He said my name like a warning.

I froze. Because I knew that this—facing him, facing my real world—was like letting the truth sink its claws in, dragging itself beneath my skin until I couldn't ignore it anymore.

I forced a breath, shaking my head, trying to hold my ground. "It was just a weekend."

It sounded hollow. Even to me.

Eric let out a bitter breath, running a hand over his face. "Was it?"

I looked at him. And didn't answer. Because he already knew. Of course, he knew. He always did.

But I wasn't ready—not yet—to say it out loud. Because some part of me still believed that if I kept it to myself, maybe I could keep pretending. Maybe I could hold on to the illusion just a little longer.

I bit my lip and then said, "You weren't there." My voice was quieter now, but still stubborn. "You didn't see how—"

"How what?" Eric cut in sharply, leaning forward. "How much they liked you? How happy they were to have you there?"

Each word hit harder than the last. I didn't answer. I couldn't.

Eric let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "Conning Jake is one thing. But conning his entire family? That's cold, Emma. Even for you."

That was it. The moment the crack turned into a full fracture. Because suddenly, it was real. Tangible. Not just a feeling I had been avoiding—but a truth I couldn't outrun.

It wasn't just Jake I was lying to. It was Elizabeth, who had welcomed me with open arms, who had made me feel—if only for a weekend—like I belonged somewhere. It was Derek, who smiled at me like I was already part of their world. It was Kaylee, who had been skeptical at first but had finally—finally—let me in.

And none of them knew. None of them had any idea who I really was.

My throat tightened. My breath caught. I fought against it—against all of it—like I could will it away with silence.

"That's not fair," I whispered, barely hearing my own voice.

"Isn't it?" Eric's tone didn't rise. He didn't need to shout. His calm was sharper than any scream. "Because I don't think you've let yourself think about what happens when the truth comes out. When you rip that away from them. From him."

The air felt thinner. The walls felt smaller.

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I didn't have an answer. Saying I was happy felt like a betrayal in itself. Because all it did was prove how selfish I really was.

"I'm serious."

Eric's voice followed me as I moved into the kitchen, as if distance might dull the impact. My hands trembled as I poured a glass of water I wasn't going to drink.

"You spent the entire weekend playing house. Jake's family, Emma. Not just him. His parents. His sister. They trusted you. They let you in. And you lied to all of them. That's what this is. A con. Don't dress it up."

I set the glass down, afraid it would slip, afraid it might shatter under my grip the way I was starting to. My fingers curled tight around the edge of the counter, the cool marble biting into my skin.

"Eric," I said, my voice breaking. "Stop."

"No." He was in the kitchen now, tension radiating off him like heat. His tone was still low but lethal in the way only truth can be. "You don't get to walk away from this conversation. You don't get to pretend it means nothing."

I turned, sharp and sudden. I could feel the tension pulsing in my neck, a vein threatening to pop with the pressure. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't realize how completely fucked I am?"

Eric didn't flinch. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. So I kept going. Because if I stopped, I knew I would fall apart.

"What do you want me to say?" My voice broke, fractured down the middle, but I pushed through it. "That I didn't mean for this to happen? That I didn't plan on... on falling this deep? That I didn't want to love him?"

I was pacing now, my steps frantic, like I could somehow outrun the guilt clawing its way beneath my skin.

"Because I didn't! I didn't mean for any of it. I was just trying to buy time. Just trying to keep things from exploding while I figured out a way to protect him from the truth." My hands moved as I spoke—too fast, too lost in the chaos I couldn't contain anymore. "But he kept showing up. And he kept being... Jake. Good, honest, kind Jake. And somewhere along the way, I stopped pretending."

My eyes burned. I blinked hard, refusing to let the tears win. "I stopped pretending, Eric. And I let myself believe—just for a second—that I could have this." I sucked in a breath, but it caught in my throat. Shaky and sharp, like I had swallowed broken glass. "I let myself believe I could keep him."

I couldn't stop the tears anymore. They rolled down my cheeks, hot, unrelenting, unstoppable.

"God, I love him." It came out strangled, desperate. "I love him so much it hurts, and I have no idea what the hell I'm supposed to do with that!"

I backed away from the counter like it burned me, my body trembling now, like even my bones were giving out beneath the weight.

"Every second I'm with him, I'm happy and terrified at the same time. Because I know this isn't real. I know I can't keep it. But I'm so fucking tired of running, Eric. I'm tired of pretending I don't want this more than I've ever wanted anything in my entire life."

Eric looked at me then—really looked—and for the first time, the fury drained from his face. What replaced it wasn't relief. It wasn't comfort. It was sorrow.

He crossed the kitchen slowly and leaned against the island, folding his arms. Not in judgment. In resignation. Like he already knew how this story ended, and it broke him, too, to say it.

"You know I love Alycia," he said, his eyes not leaving mine. "You've seen what she means to me."

I nodded, barely breathing. My cheeks were still wet, my fingers trembling.

"But the difference is... Alycia knows exactly who I am."

I looked down, unable to meet his gaze anymore, knowing where this was going.

"She knows everything. The mess, the past, all of it. She walked into it with her eyes open, and she made the choice to stay. She's helping me figure out how to be better."

He stepped closer. "But Jake?" He sighed. "Jake doesn't know who you are, Em. He thinks he does, but he doesn't. He's not living in the truth. He's living in a version of it you let him believe."

I opened my mouth, but no words came. Just the ache. Just the guilt.

"And I get it," Eric continued, more gently now. "I do. You found something good. Something real. And you wanted to hold on to it. Of course you did. But this?" He gestured between us. "This isn't protecting him anymore. This is dragging him into something that's going to wreck him."

He paused, his expression softening, as his blue eyes locked with mine. "I wish I could give you some magical solution. I wish I could tell you how to fix it. But I can't. Because I don't know how. And I think you know that, too."

I pressed a hand to my mouth, biting back a sob. Eric reached out gently and placed a hand on my arm.

"But I do know this." His voice turned firm again. "You can't keep doing this. Because this? This isn't you, Emma. Not really. And if you don't walk away soon—before it gets worse—you're going to get to a point where you hate yourself for what you've done to him. To the people around him. You're going to look back and realize you destroyed the very thing you loved because you couldn't let go in time."

I closed my eyes, tears sliding down my cheeks as his words pierced through me.

"So walk away while you still can." He paused, letting it land. "Because, yes, it's going to hurt. Both of you. But if Jake ever finds out the truth, if he pieces it together on his own—"

He stepped back, shaking his head. "You won't just break his heart. You'll burn down his entire world. And yours. Because he won't just let it go, Emma. Not even because he loves you."

And that—that did it. I slumped against the edge of the counter, covering my mouth with my hand as a sob clawed its way up my throat and broke free.

One. Then another. And then they just kept coming—silent at first, then not.

Everything I had been holding back—every lie, every secret, every fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, I could keep this life a little longer—came crashing down around me.

Eric didn't move. He didn't try to stop me or interrupt. He just watched, and for a second, I thought I saw it in his eyes, too—heartbreak.

"Come here," he whispered.

I couldn't help myself. I crumpled into his arms like I used to when we were kids—like I had done a hundred times when the world was too sharp, and I didn't know how to breathe.

He held me tight, one hand smoothing gently over my hair, grounding me like he always had. Like nothing in the world had changed, even when everything had.

I squeezed my eyes shut, clinging to the moment with everything I had. Because I knew what was coming next. And I wasn't ready.

Eric pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me. His sigh was quiet, but it cut through the silence like a knife.

"I'm sorry, Em," he said gently. "But there's something else."

I wiped at my cheeks, my breath shaky. "What?"

He hesitated. And then he said it. "Mom and Dad are in New York."

The air left my lungs in a single, stunned exhale.

"They're in a safe house," Eric continued. "They wanted to see us."

I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. I just stared at him, frozen.

Because after everything—after Jake's family. After the warmth of their home, the effortless love stitched into every dinner, every inside joke, every backyard barbecue. After being wrapped in that world—safe, simple, real. And after Jake looked at me with those steady green eyes and talked, so casually, about building a life with me. A family.

I wasn't ready to face mine.

And the worst part? I didn't know if I ever would be.