Everything After(31)

Emily shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” His voice cracked on the last word.

She shook her head. But then she said, “I think it probably is.” She hoped he would rise above whatever pain those words caused, would stay through the pain, get through it together.

Ezra stared at her for a long moment and then got up and went into the bathroom. Emily stayed seated on the settee next to the bed. She felt somehow like the air in the room had changed, like it had gotten colder. There was a feeling in the atmosphere she’d never felt when she was with Ezra. She sat, still in her heels, not changing out of her gown, waiting for him to come back, to say something to her.

Ezra came out of the bathroom with his face washed, drops of water still sparkling on his hairline. “I think I need a night to myself,” he said. “I’ll just go home.”

“What does that mean?” Emily asked. Had she gone too far? Shared too much? Was his love for her completely conditional?

“Just what I said it means. I need some time alone. I just . . . I need to process what happened tonight. It’s been a really long day. On top of a really long week. I just . . . need space.”

Emily looked at Ezra. He seemed so beaten down. So tired. She’d seen him like this before, when he’d gotten into an argument with his father, when funding he applied for didn’t come through, when he made a choice for a patient that didn’t work out the way he’d thought it would. She’d learned to let him be. But it had never been about her before. They’d never gotten into an argument that made him look like this in all the time they’d been together. And while she’d been fine giving him space to process when the problem wasn’t about her, it didn’t feel fine now. She’d just told him how alone she’d felt, how lonely. “You can’t keep running away,” she said. “When things get hard, you can’t just leave.”

“I’m not leaving,” Ezra said. “I’m just . . . breathing. I can’t breathe with you here. I can’t think.”

Emily took a few deep breaths of her own, slowing her heart rate. No matter how disappointed she was in him, she knew he needed to come to conclusions himself. To figure himself out. And she needed to let him. “Then you stay,” she said, standing and picking up her duffel bag. “I’ll go home.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Positive,” she told him, slinging the bag over her shoulder. “Should I expect you home in the morning?”

“I think I should probably still grab breakfast with my parents,” Ezra said. “I’ll go straight to work after that.”

“Okay,” Emily said again, realizing she had just been disinvited to breakfast. She walked to the door. “I’ll see you after work, then.”

“I’ll call,” he said, as he walked with her.

After she left, she heard him slide the dead bolt.

And she turned and went home by herself.





xx



Your dad started touring with a band that summer. Not ours but a new one he joined. I heard they were playing all over the country, but I never saw them.

He invited me to one of the shows. Sent me passes to go backstage. But I couldn’t. I didn’t. I was too depressed. Spinning too quickly into a whirlwind of regret and despair that I couldn’t pull myself out of.

I haven’t seen him since he graduated.

I changed my email address so he couldn’t find me again.

But I think about him all the time.





25



Emily got out of the cab and walked into their empty apartment. It was warm and smelled faintly of Ezra’s cologne. She kicked off her heels and opened up the window, letting the breeze cool the room; when it did, it swept the cologne out into the night.

Emily slid down onto the living room couch. She felt raw, like she’d tumbled off a bicycle, scraped the skin from her knees and hands, except it was her heart that had been scraped bloody. Dr. West had once told her that when you let yourself love someone, you give them the power to hurt you. It was why she hadn’t let herself love anyone for so long. But now she loved Ezra, she loved him deeply, and he’d hurt her deeply. But she’d hurt him, too. She knew that. She both was and wasn’t looking forward to him being home tomorrow night. They needed to talk, they needed to work through this, but she knew it wouldn’t be easy for either one of them.

With a sigh, Emily picked up her phone to text him good night but thought better of it. She’d give him the night to himself. She’d text him tomorrow. Instead, she decided she should probably try to sleep. It was late, and she needed to function the next day.

But she hated sleeping in their queen-sized bed without Ezra. She felt his absence every time she rolled into the space where he should’ve been, every time her hand slid onto the cool sheets that should’ve been warmed by his body. Whenever he was on call, it was only when he crawled into bed at three or four or five in the morning that she relaxed enough to really sleep.

Maybe she’d sleep on the couch tonight.

“Alexa,” she said to the circle. “Please play ‘Crystal Castle’ by Austin Roberts.” She needed to hear it again. Was it really about her? Could he possibly still be thinking about her so many years later? She’d imagined he’d moved on quickly, met someone else, met six someone elses. Groupies who followed bands around, who would see him play and then follow him around.