Confessions from the Quilting Circle - Maisey Yates Page 0,75
she was.
They had no real idea how much Boston had meant to her, or that she had decided to go, anyway. That she was dating Luke.
And that was her fault.
She’d hidden it. And not to protect them, like she’d believed. To protect herself. She hadn’t wanted to argue. Hadn’t wanted to make the special, secret things in her heart public because there was something about the idea of sharing them that made her afraid she was exposing them to danger.
She didn’t trust life, that was for sure.
It had taken away her father.
But that didn’t mean...she couldn’t keep going on out of fear.
And when she looked at her aunt Anna, she knew well how that ended. With an explosion.
Maybe she could make it all happen without an explosion. If she did it in time.
“Em...” Her mom turned to her once she’d finished with her friends’ gifts. “Your dad has something for you.”
Emma’s heart stuttered. Her mom’s eyes were shining as she reached to the edge of the table and pushed forward a wrapped box. “I don’t know what it is,” she said, her voice thin. “He didn’t tell me. But he bought it two years ago. Because he told me he was afraid he wouldn’t be here. And he wanted you to have this on your birthday. Because he’s with you, even if he can’t be here physically. That was important to him, that you knew that.”
Emma didn’t know if she could breathe around the lump in her throat. And the room had gone quiet.
With shaking hands, she undid the ribbon. She didn’t want to tear the wrapping. She peeled the edges of the tape slowly, then unfolded the plain pink paper, leaving all of it intact and revealing a small, white box.
She opened it and inside was a bracelet, rose gold, with two charms.
A lighthouse, and a round pendant with an inscription.
The Light will always lead you home.
Something clicked inside her. Like a key in a lock.
Her dad had always known she would go.
And he’d known the house, her family, would be there waiting for her, guiding her back, like a ship out at sea.
Her mom was silently wiping away tears and guilt bound up Emma. She was so...unsettled and angry about everything, and her mom was hurting, and she didn’t know what to do about any of it.
Except...
She reached across the table and hugged her mom. Tears slipped down her cheeks and whatever was happening around them faded.
Whatever was going to happen in the future didn’t matter.
Right now...
Right now she was home.
She released her mom and put the bracelet on her wrist, staring at it intermittently.
He wasn’t here, and he should be. He’d given her this instead.
She felt the loss of him more and less all at the same time.
Her dad... He’d had to plan for a future he knew he wouldn’t see. And he’d done it. It was the bravest thing Emma could even think of. The kindest.
It made her feel like she wasn’t all that brave. Not by comparison. She’d struggled to accept his death. He’d had no choice. He’d accepted it. Planned for it.
And he’d still laughed with her. Smiled with her.
It made her want to be braver now. To smile and cry. To live.
She wiped away her tears and it took a while to recover, as she finished her milkshake and cake.
The party went on, and eventually she...laughed. Without thinking, without pausing first. She felt happy.
It felt normal.
Her dad not being there was strange, like there was a hole at the center of the diner. Friends filled the gaps. In the room, in her heart. For now. For this.
They ate French fries and cake until they were full, and laughed at one of the boys sucking in helium and trying to talk after.
“Idiot!” one of the girls shouted. “Use your phone for that! That’s dangerous.”
That only egged on more of them. But Emma appreciated it because the more ridiculous it got, the better it was.
When the evening wound down she walked outside with her friends and laughed with them halfway down the block to their cars.
She felt him watching her before she saw him.
“Hey,” she said as she hugged Catherine, “thank you. I’ll see you. I have to...” She gestured toward the garage.
“Ah,” Catherine said. “Boyfriend.”
“Who?” Prathika had overheard and leaned in, her dark eyes wide.
“Her boyfriend. The mechanic.”
“Ah, no way! He is hot,” Prathika said, with genuine enthusiasm.
Emma hadn’t fully appreciated what she was missing by not telling her friends about Luke. The genuine