Exposed

Chapter Thirty-Six

I can't look at her as she speaks, ashamed. "I can't help it."

"I know you're depressed, Emma. I know this hurts more than he could know, more than I or anyone could know, but Charles didn't die. You will see him again."

"And that will be worse. I'll have to leave him all over again. And repeat. It won't ever end!"

"Which is why you need Matteo's support. You were... you are Charles parents. You need to get up and you need to focus on healing together. Get out of this hotel room."

"Mom—"

"No, Emma." She points to the food. "You're going to eat all of that food and then go take a shower. Veronica is coming for dinner later and you know she won't stand to see you like this."

I shake my head, looking down, grabbing the fork. I stab a few green beans and shove them into my mouth defiantly.

She wins.

                                                            ***

I pull a white t-shirt over my head, looking at myself in the mirror. In jeans as well, I'm decent enough to escape the confines of the bathroom, if still a little disheveled. I rest my hand over the star around my neck, the necklace Matteo gave me to see if the strong, smooth presence can give me enough strength to leave my solitude.

I'm numb. There aren't tears left anymore, I know it. I've used them all up.

I look down at the makeup bag Matteo grabbed from the house on the counter but can't bring myself to actually apply it. I reach for the door, fully prepared to grovel.

Matteo is on the couch. He shifts, finding me there and smirks slightly. "Well, you look like my wife again."

With relief, I walk over to the couch quickly, climbing onto his lap. I wrap my arms tightly around his shoulders, sighing. "I'm sorry. I've been so difficult and terrible... just the worst."

"Well, not the worst," he teases, rubbing the space between my shoulders. "But, I did want to pour ice water on you a few times."

I hum, shaking my head. "I would have killed you."

He laughs tiredly. "I know."

"Veronica will be here in an hour, so prepare yourself."

"I know. Mom told me." I breathe in, glancing around at the gorgeous room I haven't even looked at until now. "I'm not really sure about it... but do you want to try to go back to the apartment tonight?"

He looks shocked I've even suggested it, and he has every right to be unsure of my mental state currently. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"

"I can't hide forever. And I can't make you hide forever."

He pulls me closer, nuzzling his nose against my cheek. "There's my girl."

                                                            ***

The light flickers on as we enter our Park Avenue apartment. I stop in the doorway, eyes hesitantly moving across the furniture. The Sippy cup on the counter. Big Bird beside it. The farmhouse blanket draped over the couch.

I brace myself, clutching tighter onto Matteo's hand.

Breathe, Emma. Breathe and think rationally. Don't run. He's expecting you to run. I clear my throat and let go of him, taking the bag off of my shoulder, setting it onto the ground.

"I'm going to put his things in his room," I tell him.

"I'll help you."

"You don't have to. I got it."

"Are you sure?"

I grab the Sesame Street animal off of the counter. "Yeah."

Matteo grabs the bags, taking them into the bedroom as I walk around the apartment, scooping up anything that reminds me of Charles until there is no room in my arms. I hurry towards his room but freeze at the door as if there were a force field blocking me from going in. I struggle to swallow and realize I'm not ready to go in there. I set down the items on the ground, right beside the door and back up, heeding my minds call to get away from the room.

I do what it tells me to do and I leave. I meet Matteo by the bedroom door. He glances over my head at the pile on the ground down behind me.

"I'm just going to leave it there."

He nods understandingly. "It's been a long day... Let's go to bed."

I rest my face against his chest as his arm comes around my shoulder.

We lock ourselves in the bedroom, momentarily safe from the memories.

                                                            ***

I pace by Charles' door in the dark apartment in only a tank top and panties, straight out of bed. It's past two in the morning, but I haven't been able to sleep. So, I'm here.

Here wondering if Charles is sleeping through the night, if he's eating right. If he's getting the attention he needs... if he's asking for us?

I grab the knob and push it open. Pressing my lips together, I'm able to see the room because of his green sleeping nightlight. Unsure as to what I'm feeling, I bend down and begin grabbing the stuffed animals and toys and blankets, setting them inside in their places one-by-one. After placing Big Bird on the bed, right in the middle of the pillows, I decide to climb onto the child mattress, lying down on my side. When I rest my head on the pillows, I close my eyes, able to smell him, smell his soap.

The loss is suffocating. I can smile and talk and act like everything is okay but it's not.

It feels like it never will be again.

                                                            ***

The mattress lowers and I open my eyes, jerking awake. Matteo gazes down at me in the darkness, rubbing my leg gently. I blink, realizing where I am. A child's bedroom.

"I couldn't sleep," I admit reluctantly.

He nods, smiling softly. Standing up, he bends to scoop me off the mattress. I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face into his throat tiredly as he turns, walking us back to our bedroom.