Speak From The Heart - L.B. Dunbar Page 0,81

amazing sex. But it wasn’t just sex with Emily. It never has been. I made love to her, and even in the rapid pace of round two, I loved her with my entire being.

Only she’s leaving today.

I should shower, but first I want to find Katie and check on her. I tug on yesterday’s T-shirt—which holds a hint of Emily’s scent—and a pair of basketball shorts. I take the stairs down to the front room and then stop short. On the middle of the coffee table sits the radio.

The one belonging to Emily’s nana.

“What’s this?” I say aloud, though there’s no one in the room. My sister enters my peripheral vision as she exits the kitchen and crosses through the dining room.

“Emily dropped this off this morning along with that envelope.”

I step closer to the table. I can’t stop staring down at the items as if each is a dangerous foreign object or something that might burst into flames. Suddenly, I feel like I’m going to combust.

“She stopped by and hugged Katie. It was awful. Then she left this for you,” Tricia explains.

“She was here.” My head shoots up. Didn’t she ask to see me? I don’t ask. I told her I didn’t want to say goodbye.

Tricia only nods. She keeps her gaze on me as she holds out a cup of coffee.

I need to go down the street.

I need to get back to her house.

I need to tell her to stay.

No, ask her if she’ll stay for me. For Katie.

Something in my face must tell my sister my plan, but she shakes her head.

“You’re too late, Jess. She left hours ago.”

“What do you mean, she left?”

She hadn’t made me the list of things I told her I would take care of for her.

“She left.” Tricia’s eyes wander out the window and then shift like she can still see her driving away.

So that’s it.

Guess I won’t be seeing you around Emily Post of Chicago.

Guess not.

Only, dammit, I didn’t want it to end.

Then I recall her briefly telling me about the new position. The job she’s always wanted.

“I’m sorry, Jess.” My sister’s sympathetic tone does nothing for me. I sit on the couch and reach forward for the envelope. Even if I wanted privacy at this moment, I won’t get it. I open the flap of the envelope and remove the two pieces of paper inside. I unfold the pages and scan the brief letter.

Dear Jess –

Now isn’t enough.

I want more. You want less.

And I understand.

Your past. Katie’s future.

I don’t fit.

But like this old radio, you made it work when you wanted it to sing.

I’d like to hear the sounds we can make, not just today but tomorrow.

Someday perhaps.

In a garden of make-believe roses, I’d always pick you—the thorniest one—but also the most beautiful at heart.

XO, Emily

Dammit, I’d already told her I picked her. What did she miss?

The second paper was the list of things she needed finished with a card for the rental agent.

I’ve secured this company to rent Nana’s place in two weeks. Think you can fix the sink by then? I also have this list of other contractors although Sue and Joe will let them in. I hate to think of strangers in there, so perhaps you could check on the place once in a while.

I stare at the note. She’d taken care of everything minus the installation of the sink I’d ordered for her.

So efficient.

Only I’m not happy with her efficiency. She’s closed herself off. She’s left me.

“I think it’s time I move out,” I announce as I stare at the list of services she’s arranged. I’d never let strangers near her place.

“Why?” Tricia asks.

“I need to get back on my own two feet.” I finally look up at my sister, who has also been spending too much time at my mother’s place.

“Sure this doesn’t have to do with a certain someone?” she teases. “I mean, who wants a man who still lives with his mother at thirty-seven?” She huffs and gives me a dismissive wave.

“That certain someone told me about floating through her life, and I’ve realized I’ve been doing the same thing. I’ve been doing whatever is easiest instead of facing the challenges.” I glance at the radio before me.

“I know the feeling,” my sister whispers. “There’s a sick comfort in the familiar.”

I look up at her again, uncertain of her meaning. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to dissect my sister’s emotions today. I’m grappling with my own.

The pitter-patter of little feet draws both our

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