Emyln

Hains is pissed at me.

I can tell just by the way he's walking, and then by the way he aggressively throws his stuff onto the small couch.

I can tell when he sits alone during dinner, chomping away at the delicious burgers we're given. And, every time he takes a sip of his iced tea, he shoots me a nasty glare.

Fuck, even the way he walks back to the cabin we're now sharing screams "I'm-really-fucking-mad-at-you-Emyln-Juliette-Walker."

Inside the cabin, the silence between us is so thick there's barely enough room to breathe, let alone form the words I want to say to him on my tongue. So silence is what we listen to while getting ready for bed. Personally, I wanted our conversation to happen before we got ready for bed, but I'm scared. So scared that I'm going to lose him forever for doing this.

As soon as Hains is done in the small bathroom he tells me it's open and ready for me. I look up at him from the book I'm reading by Sarah J. Maas and take him in. He's wearing a baggy grey T-shirt that's two sizes too big for him and a pair of navy blue boxers. The left side of his shirt has gotten caught in the waistband, showing off just how well those boxers fit his body. I quickly look away, blushing, and get to my feet.

I close the door behind me once I have my pyjamas – a tight tank top and loose-fitting flannel bottoms. I close my eyes and gently bump my head against the wooden door. How the fuck am I going to do this without making him run? Or hate me forever? Why does this have to be so hard?

Shaking my head, I quickly change and brush my teeth.

When I'm back in the main area of the cabin, I find Hains setting up an extra sleeping bag on the couch that I already know is going to be way too small for him to sleep on.

Since I'm a couple inches shorter than him, I offer to take the couch and let him have the bed. He, of course, declines my offer.

Pride, I scoff to myself.

I turn back to organizing the tangled blankets on my bed, and when I'm finished with that, I look over my shoulder at Hains. He's cocooned inside the sleeping bag, which he's pulled to his chin. His back is facing me.

And maybe it's the fact that he's been ignoring me for the later hours of the day that gets to me, but I storm over to the front door, lock it, walk back over to Hains and then jerk the sleeping bag down as far as I can.

"What the fuck, Ems?" he demands, turning to face me. He flicks on the flashlight and it almost blinds me.

"Get up," I snap. "Now."

"No," he argues.

"Goddammit," I say, gripping his shoulders. "Get up. NOW! I don't care if you don't want to talk to me about all the shit that's happened between us – we're going to do it. It's time. We're alone. We're together. So get up off of your timid, cowardly ass and talk to me, Hains."

Those words get to him. With a speed I never knew he had, he worms his way out of the sleeping bag and plants his feet in front of me. "Cowardly?" he repeats, raising his eyebrows. "Are you fucking kidding me, Ems? You're the one who ran away and never came back. Too scared to face your mom and her demons, huh?"

"My mother's demons were not my responsibility and you damn well know it. Besides, this is about us and the decisions we made. We are going to talk about what happened that night and the following days."

Hains gets to his feet. He's absolutely livid with me. "You want to know what happened the day after we became more than friends? After we kissed for the first time?" He grips my shoulders. "You broke my fucking heart, Ems. You left me behind when I needed you most, and it destroyed me. After your mom spilt her guts to me, I ran, not knowing where the hell I was going, and then eventually dropped in the middle of the forest and cried until I couldn't produce any more tears. Just knowing that the girl I loved most in this fucked-up world left me was enough to break me. I was a walking void in a human suit for the next few months. You didn't even try to call me or text me – you left without a word, almost like you were never here." He pauses and shakes his head, his hair tangling with his lashes. I think I see a tear slip down his face. "Yet I couldn't go a day without thinking about you. You were special to me. You were the only one who I didn't mind losing sleep for, the only one who I never got tired of talking to, and the only one who crossed my mind constantly throughout the day even though you were gone. Fuck, Ems, I can't even describe how much you meant to me."

I open my mouth, ready to justify why I left, but he continues on.

"Life sucked without you." The tears are running down his face like never before. Even compared to the time I took his slap shot to the face, I've never seen him cry so hard – no, he's sobbing. "Sure, Val was there to keep me company, but I needed you. You were the only one that could've possibly understood what I was going through – all this shit with my parents. I couldn't talk to Val about it. I couldn't confide in my mom or my dad. I had nobody. And, on top of losing my best friend, I lost the only girl I've ever loved. Yeah, we were probably way too fucking young to even think about dating, but the emotions and the strong connection were there. I loved you, Ems. And you left me behind. The least you could've done is come back and told me why. It would have helped me heal from the heartbreak a lot easier."

By the end of his spiel, he's choking on his words and he's dropped his hands from my shoulders. He sits down, elbows resting on his knees, and drops his face in his hands. "Do you have any idea what it's like to lose the person you love?"

Through my blurry eyesight, I can't stop myself from taking him in. How much he's changed over the past five years and how similar he is to the fourteen-year-old boy I remember being around constantly. His looks have changed, he's grown taller, he's become more secluded in certain ways – but the one thing that's the same about him is the ability to show his emotions. It's something I've always admired with him. I can bet my life that any other guy would be acting tough, like they're strong enough to deal with the emotions when they're really not. I know Hains is strong enough to get through shit like this, but I also know that you cry when you've been strong for too long. And I think that's exactly what he's done. I know what it's like to experience a loving family break apart – it's like a fish hook being caught in your rib cage and continuously being tugged in an upward motion, or suffering from a severe case of hypothermia. You're numb yet you're in pain. I know leaving him was a terrible thing for me to do. I want to hug him and tell him how sorry I am, but I hold back.

"Of course I know what it's like. Through my decisions, I lost you." I choke through my own tears. "Do you even know why I left in the first place?"

Hains subtly nods, and, with the back of his hand, he wipes away the snot from his nose. Glancing up at the ceiling and taking a deep breath, he says, "You left for the same reason I would've – because our parents fucked our lives over and ruined any plans we had for our futures. Because they're selfish and didn't think about how their actions would corrupt us when we got older. I mean, look at us, Ems – we're fighting the exact same way they used to before the divorces became official."

I shake my head. He's got it all wrong. No matter how much my parents talked, they were always fighting and never really getting to the topic that needed to be dealt with. That's where the difference is. Hains and I may be fighting, but at least we're dealing with our demons and trying to mend what's been broken. It's fucking hard, but at least we're trying.

"You're wrong," I say, wiping away the tears. "There's a difference between the fights. These divorces fucking sucked, okay? I get that. But here's the thing: We know what to avoid unlike them. And because of that, I refuse to let our problems simmer over the burner any longer. I'm not going to choke on the smoke their unstable relationships have left behind." I stop and take a deep breath, trying to suppress a loud, obnoxious sob that wants to break free. "At least we're trying. That's all that matters, Hains. We're both trying to fix this disaster. So, now that you've said your part, it's my turn."

He shoots me a glare. "Go right ahead."

I don't like his tone – it sounds like he's mocking me. I, however, ignore it. "What exactly did my mom tell you that day?"

Hains looks at a scratch in the floorboard. "She told me that she'd been cheating on your dad for almost two years, that she told him and he gave her another chance but she fucked that up, and then she told me that you and Rosa heard her say you two were simply just mistakes and that's why you went to Abbotsford with your dad."

He says it monotonously, like he's replayed the words over and over again in his head trying to figure out some type of puzzle.

I roll my eyes. "Of course that's what she told you," I mutter, turning around and kicking the leg of the bed. Leave it to mom to fail to mention every piece of information. "That's not all she said," I spit. "She said that she loved Rosa and me, but didn't necessarily like us. And then" – a sob breaks free from my lips. The pain is almost unbearable. I hate talking about what my mom said because no matter how many times I tell myself it doesn't matter what she said about me, it still hurts – "she preceded to mention that I could act like a real bitch sometimes. My own mother basically said she hated me." I wipe my nose with the collar of my tank top. Fuck my mom for doing this. Fuck Hainsey's dad for hurting him. Fuck life for making two people who don't deserve to suffer, suffer. "And you know what else? Even though she said that, I still tried to make amends with her after I moved. That's how badly I wanted to come back and see you. I figured that if I could somehow repair the damage done between my mom and me, I'd be comfortable enough to stay there and become your neighbour again. I should have known better, though. Just like my dad said the night Rosa and I found out: It takes two people to repair a relationship. No matter how hard I tried to make my mom love me, she kept on pushing me away. And when I found out Landon had two kids, it pushed me over the edge. I gave up even though every fibre of my being screamed in protest. I wanted to come back, Hains. Every single day that went by was full of regret. You say you couldn't stop thinking of me. Well, I know damn well how that feels. Sure, I made some friends in Abbotsford, but they were nowhere near the relationship we had. None of those people that made up the population were my Hainsey Blake Stone."

I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my bottom lip. I'm so sick of crying. I'm so sick of being in pain and hating the life I live. All I want is for things to resemble what we had. It will never be the exact same as it once was, that I know. I just want something between us. Anything.

"And you know what else?" I continue. "I never meant to come here the way I did, okay? One day my mom just called me up and asked me if I wanted to come to Whistler for the summer before I left for university. I had been drinking a lot, trying to drown out the memories of you. Do you think it was easy getting through and graduating high school without you? All I could think about was how it wasn't your tie that was matching my dress. So I drowned it all out later that night. When Mom called...I took a liquid confidence chance."

When I turn around, Hains is looking at me with the worst look of pain I've ever seen. "Ems...I didn't know she singled you out like that. I'm sorry."

I wave a hand. "It doesn't matter. She said it. What's done is done. But do you understand why I left? Why I couldn't stay?"

With a heavy sigh, he whispers, "I understood the day you left."

Feeling bold, I kneel down in front of him, taking his face in my hands. "Listen to me. If I could go back in time and stop myself from leaving, I would. I will always regret leaving you behind. I should have bucked up and stayed with my mom. I know I would have been able to get through anything with you by my side." I take a deep, shaky breath. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry, Hains. I didn't mean to hurt you, okay? And I will never forgive myself for breaking your heart. But I'm back now and I want to make things right." I let my hands drop from his face, and look at the warped floorboards. "I understand if we can't take it back to a level above friendship. But you know what? That doesn't bother me. All I want is to be friends at least. No matter how much I want you as more than a friend, I can handle a friendship. Life isn't worth living without you in it."

Hains quickly gets to his feet, walking past me and over to the window that overlooks the lake. As he walks by I get a potent dose of his scent – woods with a hint of something sweet that reminds me of s'mores. I draw in a deep breath, and then another. Thank God I've been sobbing – it seems as though I'm just trying to catch my breath instead of being greedy and wanting all of him.

"So this is why you messed with the reservations?" he asks after a moment of silence.

"Yeah," I reply timidly. I sniffle. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. I didn't want anyone else to be around when the time for us to talk came. So I did what I had to do." I look off into the distance at God knows what. "There are just some people in this world that are worth fighting for. I'll keep saying sorry until the day I die even though I know it will never be enough to repair what I did to you. Making all those promises and then getting up and leaving was terrible."

Silence follows my words. A long, depressing silence where I simply stand in one place. I want to turn around and look at him, but my feet are glued to the floor. I will only turn around if he engages the next part of the conversation. If he decides to continue it, that is. I've said everything I need to say.

"Ems?" I hear him say after a minute.

I take that as my cue to turn around. When I do, I see that he's leaning against the wall, strong arms crossed over his broad chest. "Yeah?" I whisper.

A look of guilt passes across his face. "I need to tell you something."

I nod, giving him the go-ahead.

He doesn't say anything more – he walks over to me, stopping when we're a couple inches apart. I tilt my chin up so our gaze locks. He's tanned from being out in the sun for the past couple weeks, but I can still see the faint dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose. I have the sudden urge to touch my scar. It's just the seriousness on his face...it makes me freeze in place. Whatever he's about to tell me must have something to do with our emotional discussion.

"I don't want to be friends with you."

I feel my face fall the moment those words are out of his mouth. I'm shocked. I thought I had the slightest chance of getting him back. Guess not. I can't really blame him, though, right? I did leave him behind although my reasons were valid. I couldn't stay in my toxic home back then, but I also could have contacted him somehow. Stupid and inconsiderate play on my part.

A fresh wave of tears hits me like I've just fallen from a tree and landed on my back, knocking the wind from my lungs. This is worse than hearing about what my mom did. Ten times worse. A million times worse. A sob shakes my shoulders. Damn it. I can usually control my emotions better than this. But Hains is my kryptonite – I love him so much that I can't stop the pain from hitting me in waves.

"I don't want to be friends with you, Emyln Juliette Walker," he repeats. "I want more."

The shock is quickly replaced by surprise. Mouth gaping open and tears still running strong, I try to find my words. Yet it doesn't work. I can't seem to find my ability to speak. I wasn't expecting this at all.

"And," he adds, "from what I interpreted, you want more too. Tell me if I'm wrong."

Again, no words come to me. Of course I want more. I want to wake up with him beside me in the morning, both wrapped tightly in a fuzzy blanket. I want him to make me moan his name under the stars. I want to have the privilege of holding his hand and calling him mine. My heart picks up. My breathing turns jagged.

His hand finds my cheek. His palm is rough and calloused, his fingers strong, soft, gentle, and warm – just like I remember them. The buzzing that's been happening behind the pain intensifies; almost ridding my mind of the blow-up we just had between us and all the pain.

Hains waits a beat, like he's testing the waters. It's weird because it feels like I should be doing this to him. He is the one who pushed me away, after all.

"The truth is," Hains continues, "no matter how much I want to hate you, I can't stop loving you, Ems. I've been fighting it since the moment I saw you in the kitchen the day you came back. I get why you left, okay? And I'll admit to being a little jealous too. I was jealous that you had the option to leave with a parent that had their head screwed on right and I didn't. You hurt me, but I can't blame you for everything. Your parents put you in a shitty situation. If I were you, I would have done the same thing. I think any kid would've."

I haven't breathed in the last twenty seconds. My lungs are paralyzed. Hains is studying me intently, and I notice the flicker of triumph in his grey eyes. He and I both know it's weird for me to be frozen in place like I am. With any encounters we've ever had – hockey games, hikes, and even who would get the last scoop of ice cream – I've almost always come out on top. I want to fight my sudden anxiety, but I can't seem to muster up the strength to do so. He's all I've ever wanted, all I could ever think about while I was gone.

He places his other hand on my bare cheek, slowly, carefully drawing me closer, until our bodies are pressed together and I'm feeling his hot breath on my mouth.

He's going to kiss me.

I think my nervous system is having a meltdown. I can't move. I can't speak. Every motor function of my body has been fried.

This. This is the moment I've been dreaming of since I was fourteen. I finally let out the breath I've been holding in, along with the years and years of unhappiness I spent away from him.

I close my eyes...There's a pause that seems to last an eternity, and then, finally, I feel his lips on mine, soft and warm. His kiss is hard and gentle at the same time and has this heart-stopping promise of something more behind it.

It's the type of kiss that could go either way – a tentative restart at the chance we never had. We're resting on the edge of the gorge the time between us created, and I can feel my willpower slipping. I can feel his slipping.

And that's when he pulls away.