After Carlton had gone into the house with a smile and a few last silly comments, Bobby finally felt like he could talk. He leaned on the porch railing and looked at Emily, who, as always, was listening to his words with an uneasy but understanding look.
"Emily, you have no idea how sick I am of all this," he said, tapping his fingers nervously on the wooden railing. "My brother... He's always with his rock, with his parties, with his friends... He just doesn't understand how much this all irritates me.
Emily nodded softly, standing next to him, but didn't interrupt. She knew that sometimes Bobby just needed to talk to feel a little better. She had always been a good listener.
"He always thinks that if you don't like The Doors, it means you don't know how to enjoy life. But the truth is, I'm sick of his parties!" Bobby continued, almost with despair in his voice. "What, can't I just read a book? I just started The Chronicles of Captain Blood yesterday - so what? That's an important, worthwhile activity too!"
Emily sighed softly and placed her hand gently on his shoulder.
"I understand, Bobby," she said, her voice warm and calm. "Carlton really doesn't understand sometimes that not everyone is so into his music. He lives for these parties and this rock. He thinks everyone else should think the same way.
Bobby looked at her gratefully, but continued, wiping his hands on his jeans:
"Well, he always says that I should be "more alive", or something. Like if I don't jump up and start dancing or singing, then I'm somehow not the same. Seriously, why doesn't he understand that I just don't want to be a part of all this?"
Emily thought for a moment, looking around the veranda, and then, smiling softly, spoke:
"You know, Carlton can be a bit clingy at times, but he's really just trying to create a fun environment. Maybe he doesn't realize that not everyone wants that environment in their life, but that's his way of interacting with the world. He sees how much fun his friends are having, and he thinks maybe you want to be a part of that fun, too. He doesn't know how else to make it comfortable for you."
"Well, yeah," Bobby chuckled darkly, "but then why can't he just stay home and listen to his music alone? I'm not asking him to understand me, but I wish he'd understand that I'm not against his hobby, I'm just not ready to live in his world."
Emily turned to face him and looked into his eyes with a sincere expression.
"I understand that it's hard for you. But maybe if you don't resist so categorically, Carlton will feel that you want to be around him too, even if you don't participate in his hobbies. This doesn't mean you have to be like him, but he will be glad if you just show that you are there, even if it's not your style."
Bobby thought about it, his face softening a little. He had always been stubborn, but Emily somehow managed to make him see things from a different perspective.
"I don't know if it will work," he said, "but maybe you're right. I shouldn't push myself off by anything that's not my thing. He is my brother, after all. Maybe I should try to be at least a little more flexible."
Emily nodded, sensing that he was beginning to realize the importance of their conversation.
"It's definitely not going to be easy, Bobby, but I believe you can find your way between what you like and what Carlton likes. You and he are different, but that doesn't mean you can't find common ground. Just be honest with each other."
Bobby sighed, but his gaze became calmer.
"Well, okay, I'll try. Maybe I won't dance, but I'll at least try to be less aggressive towards all this madness."
Emily smiled, guessing that this was the best he could do. She put her arm around Bobby's shoulders, and the boy, feeling the warmth of her arms, finally relaxed a little. He was as strong and independent as ever, but deep down he always missed what Emily gave him: peace and confidence that everything would work out.
Bobby met her gaze, and instead of the usual sarcastic wariness, there was an unexpected softness in his eyes. He couldn't explain what exactly it was that look, but there was something in it that made him feel for a moment like a three-year-old again. The boy who sometimes so stubbornly shut himself off from the world and people now, looking at Emily, realized how important it was to her that he and Carlton understood each other.
"Thank you," he said, slightly embarrassed. "I do... sometimes forget that I can be a little more flexible. And you're right, I shouldn't be so closed off."
Emily chuckled softly, shaking her head slightly.
"You're not a child anymore, Bobby," she said, gently tucking his hair behind his ear. "But you can still learn new things, even if it's about your relationship with your brother."
Her words cut through him, and he realized once again how much he valued her opinion. Bobby had always been smart, with his own views on life, but sometimes he forgot that there were things that were more important than what he thought or felt. He was sometimes too absorbed in his own struggle with the world to notice that those around him were always ready to help.
"Okay, I'll try," he said, his voice taking on a new, more mature determination. "I am Carlton's brother, after all, and it's probably important to me that we find common ground. Even if it's not always easy."
Emily smiled, her eyes filling with a warm light.
"I'm sure you can do it. And anyway, you're much stronger than you think, Bobby. Don't forget that."
He nodded, and then, almost ashamed of his own state, rubbed his eyes and abruptly changed the subject:
"Well, even though I won't be dancing, the evening probably won't go by without some adventures, right?"
Emily laughed, her laugh light and ringing as always. She let go of his shoulder and winked.
"It all depends on who will be at the center of these adventures. If Carlton doesn't manage to create real chaos, then perhaps your peace and quiet will become the main attraction of the evening."
"Ha!" Bobby chuckled, finally relaxing. "Then let's make sure the chaos doesn't overshadow my intellectual peace."
Emily, smiling again, picked up his joke:
"So, are you ready for the party, or should we sell another vein to make a dance hall?"
Bobby laughed, but there was a slight note of tension in his laugh. He knew that the evening would still be a trial for him, but if for just one evening they could forget about their problems, even for a little while, that would be enough for him.
"Well," he said, feigning seriousness, "if I can't escape dancing, I'll try to endure it with dignity. And you, Emily, don't leave me alone in this hell!"
"I would be glad to be with you all the time," Emily said suddenly in a sad tone, "but it just so happens that I live in New York, and I only visit Cleveland occasionally when I manage to snatch a day or two off from the university."
Bobby fell silent, looking at her with genuine concern. Emily had always been a mystery to him, but now he could see that her gaze, hidden under the light sunlight, was full of heavy thoughts. She did not answer right away, only pressed her lips slightly and looked away, as if trying to find the right words.
"Emily, what happened?" Bobby asked, finally getting up from his chair.
He couldn't understand why she was like this. Usually she was full of energy, always smiling and slightly sarcastic. But now there was something hidden behind her silence.
Emily, standing by the railing, didn't answer right away. There was something deep and heavy in her eyes, as if she was trying to find the right words to explain what was bothering her. Bobby watched her with concern, feeling the air around him grow thick and tense. He had long known that Emily was not one to openly share her worries, but something was wrong now.
"What's the matter?" Bobby repeated, now with a slight reproach in his voice, as if he himself did not believe that she had been silent for so long.
She sighed and turned to face him, her face illuminated by the faint evening light that was just beginning to fall on the veranda. Silence fell over them both for a moment until she responded.
"I don't know, Bobby. It's just... sometimes it feels like you're all alone, even when there are people around. I'm trying to figure out what I really want, but it's hard. Do you ever feel like nothing you do just makes sense? Or like you don't belong?"
Bobby froze, trying to process her words. He had always known Emily as a determined and self-assured girl whose thoughts and actions seemed clear and precise. But now she was different, more vulnerable.
"Well... I wouldn't say I feel that way," he said, approaching her carefully. "But I can understand what you mean. Sometimes we all find ourselves in situations where we're not quite sure what to do. That's okay. You're not alone, Emily."
She shook her head and looked back at him, smiling, but it wasn't her usual smile, full of energy and determination. It was a bitter smile, as if she was trying to hide something that couldn't be explained.
"Do you think I should stay the way everyone sees me, Bobby?" she asked quietly, her voice soft and almost vulnerable. "Everyone tells me I'm lucky to live in New York, to have friends, to go to college... But you know how it is. All these people, this whole life, it's like it's for someone else. I don't know what to do with it."
Bobby stood there, unsure of how to respond. He was too young to understand the complexities of Emily's life, her worries, her weariness from the constant pressure and expectations. But despite that, something in her words caught his attention, making him think that it wasn't how old you were that mattered, but what you felt inside.
Emily looked like she was trying to find a place to escape from it all: from New York, from the university, from this frantic pace of life that always demanded more from her - more effort, more academic performance, more attention. Her words about this "life for someone else" sounded like a groan of the soul, like an attempt to find at least some space for herself.
Bobby looked at her, feeling how her pain - though alien to him - resonated within him, like an echo of something that had not yet reached his awareness, but which he was still trying to understand.
"Emily..." he said finally, a little sheepishly, as if he doubted that his words would help. "I don't think you should be the way other people see you. And anyway... I don't think you have to be the way everyone wants you to be. You're not a robot, are you? You don't have to please all these adults and their expectations all the time.
Emily smiled, but it wasn't the smile that usually appeared on her face when she was in a good mood. It was a soft, sad smile that disappeared almost immediately.
"Yeah, I guess..." she said, looking off into the distance, beyond Bobby. "I just... I don't know what to do with this feeling that my whole life is passing me by. And here I am, trying to be normal, to do something important... but I often feel like it's not my thing."
She suddenly fell silent, as if afraid she was about to say something that would be too much for her weak voice, too vulnerable for the open world. Bobby watched her closely, trying to support her somehow, but not knowing how.
"Maybe you just need some time to yourself," he said, choosing his words unsteadily. "For example, I like to read. When something is wrong, I pick up a book and... well, I don't know how to explain it exactly, but it somehow becomes easier. Maybe you, too, just need to think about what you like, and not about what is expected of you.
Emily turned to him, her gaze becoming more alive, although there was still something hidden, misunderstood in it.
"You're right," she said with a small smile that was less sad. "Maybe I should take a break and just breathe for a bit. But it's hard when you always feel like you have to move forward, toward something. When you can't just stop and think.
Bobby shrugged, looking at her with that childish directness that left no room for falsehood.
"Well, I just think that when you don't want to move, it means you just need to be in a place where you can be yourself. Sometimes stopping and being honest with yourself is more important than rushing somewhere."
Emily was silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on the ground, as if she didn't know what to say. The silence that hung between them seemed heavy, but at some point she looked up from the ground and into Bobby's eyes. Her face softened, and, to her surprise, she leaned over and hugged him.
"Bobby, I'm going to tell you something," her voice was quiet, but there was a certain determination in it. "But you can't tell anyone. It's my secret, and I'll never tell my friends."
Bobby nodded silently, looking at Emily curiously. It was hard for him to understand what exactly she wanted to tell him, but from the tone of her voice he felt that it was really important to her.
Emily pulled back a little and leaned toward his ear. Her breathing became a little faster, as if she was finally deciding to do something she had been putting off for a long time.
"You know I invited my friends to Carlton's party," she said in a whisper, as if she couldn't believe it herself. "Well, I didn't do it with all my heart. I..." She paused, as if trying to find the right words, "I lost to them at cards at university.
Bobby frowned, his eyebrows raised in surprise. He couldn't imagine how playing cards could lead to this situation, but he knew it was important to Emily.
"Lost?" he asked, not entirely sure he had understood everything correctly.
"Yes," she said, her voice a little tense. "They made a deal that if I lost, I had to throw a party for them at Carlton's house. Now, I have to keep my promise, even though deep down I don't want to. So, to be honest, I'm not really looking forward to throwing this party."
Emily sighed, closing her eyes as if trying to free herself from the burden that had fallen upon her. Bobby remained silent, watching her reaction. He didn't know what to say, because he himself would never find himself in such a situation. He didn't like to put his desires and principles on the line for other people.
"That... that sounds weird," he said, not knowing how to express his surprise. "Why couldn't you just tell them you didn't want to do it?"
Emily smiled slightly, but there was still a hint of tiredness in her eyes.
"I couldn't. It would have been too... honest, to be honest. They would have just laughed at it. And it was important for me to save at least some of my face in front of them. That's why I agreed. But now I realize that it probably wasn't the smartest idea."
Bobby looked at her, trying to figure out why she was so worried. After all, for him, this would just be an excuse to say no, and that would be it. But he could see that Emily was genuinely worried, that her words were more than just complaints.
"But, Emily, if it's not your will, why continue? Why not just say you don't want to be part of this anymore?" he repeated insistently.
Emily closed her eyes as if collecting her thoughts, and then exhaled slowly.
"It's not as simple as you think," she said, stepping back a little. "You don't understand how it works. There's more to this game than just cards, there's also debt. When you make a promise, you can't just back out. These aren't just games, they're a matter of honor."
She paused, as if trying to choose the right words.
"You can't just break your word if you want to keep respect. And I don't want them to say later that I'm weak, or worse, that I can't keep my word. All my friends know that I'm like this: if I promise, then I'll do it. And if I don't, then no one will believe me next time."
Bobby frowned, not understanding the full scope of the situation, but he could see how seriously Emily was taking this. He felt that her words were sincere, and he knew that she couldn't just refuse, no matter how much she wanted to.
"So, you're just going to have a party and then suffer all night?" he asked, a little annoyed. "That doesn't make sense, Emily. Why can't you tell them you don't like it? You have the right to your own choice!"
Emily looked at him with a slight smile, but there was a lot of sadness in her eyes.
"I told you, Bobby, it's not a question of "I want" or "I don't want". It's a question of how I'm perceived. I can't risk that just to avoid a night. I can't become weak in their eyes. They wouldn't understand, and I wouldn't understand myself."
She paused, thought for a moment, and then continued, more quietly:
"I'm not telling you this so that you feel sorry for me, but so that you understand how important this is. You're like a friend to me, and I wouldn't want you to ever find yourself in such a situation."
Bobby, though he was still too young to think about it, still felt that there was something important in these words. He couldn't fully understand how such promises worked or why Emily was so worried, but he knew one thing: she really needed support.
"I don't want you to feel bad about this, Emily," he said, a little regret in his voice. "But you're right, I don't understand how it works. I just didn't want you to hurt yourself for some debt you can break."
Emily sighed, hanging her head.
"I know you would have done things differently, Bobby. And you would have been right. But sometimes these things are not so easy to fix. Sometimes they require sacrifices, even if you yourself do not understand them.
Emily stood at the railing of the porch, her gaze directed into the distance, toward the dense forest that framed the Carlton house. A light breeze ruffled her hair, and her thoughts seemed to be far away, in another time and place. She was silent, but there was so much emotion in her silence that Bobby couldn't help but feel it.
Finally she sighed, looked up at the sky, and said quietly:
"Bobby, I know you probably don't understand what I'm talking about. But when you get older, when you mature, you'll understand how dangerous things like cards can be. It's not just a game, it's not just fun. It's a trap, and you might not even notice how you're falling into it."
She turned to him, her eyes full of sadness.
"Don't start playing cards, never! It's... it's not just gambling. It's something that can suck you in, like a quagmire. You think you're playing for fun, and then you start doing things you'd never do. Promises, debts, self-deception... it all becomes part of the game, and you can't get out until you do something you'll regret later. I got caught in it, and now I can't get out."
Bobby stood silently, trying to process her words. He was too young to understand all the details, but he could tell she was serious. He saw her face and voice change, how she became more vulnerable, and his heart sank.
"You mean that because of the cards you..." he stopped, not knowing how to ask correctly.
Emily nodded, her eyes clouded with the tears she was trying hard to hold back.
"I don't want you to go through what I went through," she said, gripping the railing so tightly her knuckles turned white. "I don't want you to be in a situation where a debt, a promise, becomes a burden. It's not worth it. I've already lost so much, and I don't want anyone else to be trapped like that."
Bobby felt Emily's words resonate deeply in his soul. It was hard for him to understand all the details of her pain, but one thing was clear: it was something important, something that changed her life. He was shocked.
"I don't want you to know how much it hurts," the girl continued. "I want you to grow up, make good choices, and have a pure heart. Don't let anything cloud your outlook on life.
She paused, her voice becoming quieter, almost gentle:
"You are still so young, and your whole life is ahead of you. Don't let anything make you sacrifice what is dear to you."
Bobby stood, his small shoulders moving tensely with his breathing, trying to process everything Emily had just told him. He felt her words weighing heavily on his heart, like a stone he couldn't lift. Emily wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hands warm and strong, and there was something comforting about the gesture, despite the weight they both carried.
"Bobby," she said softly, leaning a little closer, "you're too young to understand all this. But believe me, cards aren't just a game. They're an addiction. And those who start playing often don't see how they're getting caught up in it. They think they have it all under control, that it's easy. But one game can cost you everything.
She pursed her lips, as if trying to hold back another flood of words that might spill out. Emily felt she couldn't explain to him everything that lay behind her decision, why she had come to this truth.
"You don't know what it's like... when you have nothing to lose. When duty becomes more important than what you hold dear. I... I don't want you to go through the same thing," her voice became soft, almost a whisper. "So promise me one thing: don't play. Just forget about it. It's not for you."
Bobby listened to her in silence, his eyes darting around the porch, but he didn't know what to say. He could see how genuinely upset Emily was, how hard it was for her to say these words, and it made him feel how much she was going through. In his world, everything was simpler-games were games, and he didn't think cards could change life so much. But her look, her demeanor, that inexpressible longing in her voice, made him think.
"Emily, I... I promise. I won't play cards," he said finally, and his voice was firm, although he himself did not yet fully understand why it was so important to keep this promise.
Emily smiled, but her smile was weak, as if she had to use the last of her strength to pretend that everything was okay.
"Thank you, Bobby," she whispered. "This means more to me than you can imagine."
They stood there for a few seconds, hugging, and Bobby felt his heart begin to calm down. It was like a reminder that sometimes, even in the most difficult situations, it's important to be there, to listen, to support. Emily was an adult, she had been through a lot, but she was still vulnerable, like everyone else.
Bobby suddenly felt the weight of her soften a little. Maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe he could help her, even just a little. And it filled him with a strange confidence.
"You know you shouldn't keep everything to yourself," he said, pulling back a little to see her better. "If you need to talk, I'm always here."
Emily looked at him, a spark of gratitude flashing in her eyes.
"I know, Bobby," she said, finally releasing the tension in her shoulders. "I know you want to be with me. But don't forget, my home is far away from here," she said, referring to New York.
Bobby felt his chest tighten at the words. He knew there had always been this invisible but real gap between him and Emily, a distance separating their worlds. He was from Cleveland, with its warm evenings and yards full of children and fun parties, and she was from New York, a city that seemed mysterious to him, where everything was fleeting, where everyone was part of something bigger.
"You shouldn't worry," he said, trying to sound confident, but even he knew he didn't sound very convincing. "I told you: I'm always here. It's unlikely that anything could separate us, right?"
Emily nodded, but her eyes were still a little sad. She leaned against the railing of the veranda, and there was a sadness in her eyes that Bobby couldn't quite understand.
"You say that as if distance doesn't exist," she sighed, looking again into the distance, where the horizon was lost in a myriad of lights. "But you know how important it is. My home, my university, my whole life is there. And even though I'm here with you, I can't forget what's waiting for me there."
Bobby watched her silently, feeling how everything she said became part of her inner world, a world that was so complex that it seemed to have no end and no beginning. He wanted to help her, to ease the tension somehow, but in this situation he felt almost powerless.
"You said you didn't want to be there," he said quietly. "But maybe if things get that hard, you could just come back here, live with us for a while. I... I can help. There's not much of importance here, but I'm sure you'll find something you like."
Emily looked at him, and her eyes filled with something Bobby couldn't immediately decipher. It wasn't sadness, it wasn't joy, but something in between, a mixture of understanding and gratitude.
"I'd like to live with you and Carlton in your house," she said, her voice soft, "but it's not that easy. You don't understand how hard it is to live here and study there in New York. The university is a real bondage."
Bobby was silent, realizing he couldn't understand the pressure she was under. She had always seemed so confident, so full of life, and now here she was, revealing an invisible part of herself he hadn't known about.
"I know it's hard," he said, looking up at the sky. "But isn't it worth a try? You don't have to be there if it makes you feel caged. You don't have to work in a strict framework that makes you uncomfortable.
Emily sighed and stepped forward a little, leaning on the veranda railing. Her gaze once again stretched out into the distance, toward the horizon that never seemed to reach its goal. She paused, as if pondering something important.
"I know you want to help, Bobby," she said finally, her voice quiet and thoughtful again. "But I have a commitment to the university, to my life there. I need to finish this. I can't just give it up, I can't walk away from my commitments."
Bobby didn't know what to say. He couldn't comprehend the weight of the commitment she was talking about. Life was simpler for him: studying, playing outside, hanging out with friends, but Emily, with her university and her constant struggle for success, clearly lived in a world where every step mattered, and not every step was her own choice.
"But you don't want to be there, do you? You told me that," he said, smiling faintly. "You can take a break. You have time. You don't have to control everything.
Emily smiled a little in response, but it wasn't a full smile. It was just the corner of her lips, which did little to hide her growing worry.
"I want things to be different," she said. "But I can't just give up. I can't drop out of school just because I hate New York.
Bobby stood silently, listening intently to Emily. He didn't know how to help her, how to make her feel better. He was just a kid, and she was an adult, with her own complex experiences and decisions that seemed too heavy for his simple world.
Emily looked tired. She stood at the porch railing, her eyes staring into space, as if she were trying to find answers somewhere in this vast world that so often made her feel like an outsider. Bobby didn't know what to say, but he felt like he needed to support her, even if his words couldn't heal.
"You shouldn't feel like you have no choice," he finally said, taking a step toward her. "I understand that you don't want to quit school. You're smart, Emily. I can't imagine how hard this is for you, but can't you just take a step back and look at it from a different perspective? Maybe if you take a little rest, something will change. Maybe you'll see that the world isn't so scary and that you can balance school and your life. You always say that you want to be strong. But being strong doesn't mean you can handle everything alone.
Emily looked at him, her eyes soft but also full of pain. She pressed her lips together as if trying to hold back the emotions that were still pouring out.
"You don't understand, Bobby," she said quietly, her voice weary. "I can't just change my life. I have to finish this school, because everything I've done before will be meaningless. I can't just walk away, no matter how I feel. I've worked all these years to get here. And if I quit, how will I ever explain it to myself? How will I ever justify everything that's happened to me?"
Bobby looked at her thoughtfully, feeling his heart squeeze at her words. He didn't know what to do in situations like this. All he knew was that Emily was important to him, and that he wanted to help her, to ease her suffering even a little.
"Maybe if you came back here for a while, you could take a break? I understand that you have university, but it's not the only thing in life. You don't have to be on top of things all the time, Emily. You deserve a little peace. Why not try to find a balance?"
Emily looked at him, her face softening, but Bobby could see that she was still holding herself together. It wasn't just her worry about the future-it was a struggle with herself, with her own expectations, and with what she had to do to live up to everyone else's demands.
"I wish it were that easy," she said, looking up. "But unfortunately it's not. I feel like if I let go of control even a little bit, everything will spiral out of control. You don't understand how hard it is to be constantly on edge. I can't just say, 'Enough.' Everything I do matters."
Bobby took another step closer, concern visible in his eyes.
"But you matter too," he said, looking into her eyes. "You can't just be what others want you to be. You have the right to your own life, to your own feelings, to rest. You shouldn't just be someone who fulfills other people's expectations."
Emily bowed her head, her lips trembling slightly as if she were holding back tears. She wanted to believe that everything would be okay, but she couldn't find any answers that would comfort her yet.
"I know you're worried about me, Bobby," she said, her voice softening again. "And it touches me. You're... you're better than Carlton," she said suddenly, breathlessly. "He'd never listen to my complaints. Your brother is a master of compliments, and he's no fool in worldly affairs, but he can't listen as attentively as you can..."
Bobby froze, his face flushing slightly in surprise. He hadn't been prepared for those words, but hearing them made his chest fill with something warm. Emily hadn't just said it, she'd actually felt it, and his heart sank slightly in gratitude.
"Emily," he said quietly, unsure of what to say. "I'll always be here if you want to talk. I... well, I may not understand everything you're feeling, but I'll try. You deserve to be listened to, and you deserve to have someone who actually cares about you.
Emily looked at him in surprise, as if she hadn't expected such revelations from a boy of only eight years old. But there was genuine gratitude in her eyes, and her gaze softened. She took a step back, turning slightly to lean on the veranda railing again.
"You say a lot, Bobby," she said, her voice a little quieter. "Maybe you're right. I often don't give myself the right to be weak. I feel like showing my feelings makes me weak. I'm so used to hiding my feelings that I don't even know how to do it any other way.
Bobby shook his head, trying to understand what she was feeling.
"That doesn't make you weak," he said confidently. "I think it's the opposite. You're strong because you can acknowledge your feelings instead of hiding them. You can be honest with yourself, even when it's hard. I think that's really important."
Emily smiled silently, her eyes becoming a little wet, as if she was about to cry, but holding it in. Bobby was so sincere in his words that it touched her more than she expected.
"You're right," she said, though her voice was shaking a little. "But sometimes I feel like I'm taking on too much. I have to be perfect. And when I can't live up to my expectations, it gets me down. Do you know what that feels like? When you feel like if you don't do it right, the world will fall apart?"
"Yeah, I know," Bobby said, nodding. "I feel like I have to do it right sometimes, too, or else things will go wrong. But you don't have to be perfect. You're already great the way you are."
Emily laughed, but her laugh was light and sad at the same time.
"I've been trying to be perfect for so long that it's hard for me to imagine life without that struggle. And when you tell me things like that, Bobby, I realize that maybe I need to give myself a little more room to make mistakes.
He came closer and, not knowing how else to support her, simply put his hand on her shoulder, as if assuring her that he was always there.
"You're not alone," he said quietly. "And if you ever feel like you can't cope anymore, you can always come back here to our house. Carlton and I will help you."
Emily looked at him, and her face softened. There was no longer that distant look in her eyes that had been there before, when she was trying to hide her emotions. Now she felt relief, at least for a moment. She lowered her head, as if trying to comprehend how much this simple but sincere support meant to her.