Emery [bxb]

171

"I want to show you something." Emery brings me to his grandma's house, and upstairs to his room.

The space is tiny and cramped, but so...Emery, with posters of Hans Zimmer and Howard Shore and famous violinists and sheet music crammed into every available space.

He reaches under his bed and pulls out a shoebox, from which he produces a small, dusty notebook. A diary, I come to find out. It's got the names of every single girlfriend I ever had. I'm momentarily speechless, flipping through it. I don't recognize this boy he's writing about. I've grown sick of everything I once thought I wanted: girls, modelling, parties...

Emery moves in with me because Aly is pissed to hell about him calling the wedding off. She hasn't been picking up calls or responding to texts, and Emery is worried. At thirty-seven weeks, Bump is a bowling ball. Her wellbeing is crucial to the health of Emery's child, so I care. I care a lot.

While I work out to decompress after a long day, I listen to Emery play the most soulful pieces on the violin from the next room over. When I enter the room much later, I find him asleep. I gently pry the sheets from his hands and lift him into my arms. Then I carry him to my bed and pull the covers over him.

"I'm gonna take care of you forever," I mumble, gently kissing his forehead.