Lisa was at the sink, staring blankly into the soapy water when Emily's voice sliced through the silence. "Are you ever going to tell me what's really going on, or should I just guess?"
Lisa's heart skipped. She hadn't even heard Emily come in, but the sharpness of her tone was impossible to miss. She felt her fingers clench around a dish, the sudden tension prickling her skin. Turning slowly, she met Emily's gaze, which was hard, demanding.
"What are you talking about?" Lisa said, trying to keep her voice steady, though she knew it came out shakier than she intended.
Emily crossed her arms, her expression a mix of concern and exasperation. "Don't play dumb. This—whatever this is with Liam—it's gone too far, Lisa. I mean, look at yourself. You're practically unraveling over him, and he's not…he's not even…" She stopped, her voice softening, as if afraid to finish the thought. "He's not the same anymore. And I don't think he ever will be."
Lisa stiffened, her mind racing. She knew Emily was just looking out for her, but the words stung. "You don't understand," she replied, almost defensively. "You've seen what we've been through. He's…he's everything to me, Em."
Emily's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Lisa could see the strain behind her friend's patience. "I know you care about him, Lisa. But…are you sure this is even about him anymore? Or are you just obsessed with the idea of fixing something that's…that's broken beyond repair?"
The words struck Lisa like a slap. She opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. A bitter knot twisted in her stomach as she looked away, her hands gripping the edge of the counter so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
"It's not like that," she whispered, but even she didn't believe it. Deep down, a part of her knew Emily was right. This wasn't the Liam she'd known, the Liam she'd loved. She'd convinced herself that whatever pieces of him remained were worth any sacrifice, any pain. But now, standing in the dim kitchen with Emily's accusing gaze on her, that conviction felt paper-thin.
Emily took a step closer, her voice softening. "Lisa, I know this is hard for you. But you're not…you're not yourself anymore. I can't watch you tear yourself apart for something that might destroy you."
The words hit harder than Lisa expected, and she could feel her eyes sting, a prickle of tears she'd been trying to hold back. "I'm doing this because I have to, Emily. You don't understand what it's like to lose someone—to get them back and then watch them slip away all over again."
Emily's face softened, but her gaze remained firm. "And what if you're the one slipping away? What if, by trying to hold onto him, you're losing yourself?"
Lisa shook her head, more out of stubbornness than belief. "No, I…I brought him back. I can't just let him go, not after everything."
There was a moment of silence as Emily studied her, sadness flickering in her eyes. "Lisa, you've always been stubborn," she said with a hint of forced humor. "But this time…I'm afraid you're going to hurt yourself. You're pushing everyone away, and for what? Someone who doesn't even remember who he is half the time?"
The truth of it was almost unbearable, and Lisa felt her composure start to crack. She had been pushing everyone away, blind to everything but her desperate mission to save Liam. And now, standing here with Emily, she realized just how isolated she'd become, how alone she felt. The walls she'd built around herself were closing in, and she was trapped inside with ghosts and memories that refused to let her go.
A small, broken laugh escaped her lips, tinged with bitterness. "Maybe I am losing myself, but I'd rather be lost with him than live without him."
Emily's shoulders slumped, her face a mixture of frustration and pity. "You're my best friend, Lisa. But I can't keep watching you like this. I miss the old you—the one who could laugh, who could see the world without…without needing to fix it all the time."
The silence that followed felt like a gaping chasm between them. Lisa wanted to reach out, to say something that would bridge the distance, but the words caught in her throat. She felt the weight of Emily's disappointment, her worry, and beneath it all, the faint, gnawing doubt that maybe, just maybe, her friend was right.
Without another word, Emily turned and walked toward the door. She stopped just before leaving, casting one last, lingering look over her shoulder. "I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for, Lisa. But just know…I'll be here if you ever come back."
The door closed softly behind her, but the sound felt like the finality of a slammed door. Lisa stood alone in the silence, the faint echoes of her confrontation with Emily ringing in her ears. A hollow ache settled in her chest, and she slumped against the counter, staring blankly at the wall.
She thought about Liam, the broken fragments of him she'd tried so desperately to piece together. Had she been fooling herself all along? Was Emily right—was this more about her need to fix something, to hold onto something she couldn't bear to lose, than about Liam himself?
Lisa closed her eyes, fighting back tears, but they spilled over anyway, hot and stinging. She felt lost, more than she ever had before. In trying to save Liam, had she only condemned them both?