#Chapter35
Emma frowns. I know she wants to correct me on who exactly up and ran off, but she isn’t that type of person. She is instead appraising me so very pointedly, as though some tiny light bulb has gone off. She rubs her thumb over my hand to soothe me.
/"You said … He left you?/" Emma watches me, her expression calm while waiting patiently.
/"What do you mean? What?/" I recall everything I blurted out and try to piece it all back together so I can replay what I said. /"Arrick, I guess./" I shrug, sniffing back the flood that’s erupted over my face, and give up wiping the mess away. It isn’t the first time I’ve cried in front of Emma, and she doesn’t exactly make me feel shy about it anyway.
