Chapter 2

The familiar scent of my mother's pot roast filled the dining room as I sat down at the table, my stomach knotting with anxiety. Sunday dinners at my parents' house had once been a comfort—now they felt like walking into a lion's den.

"Emerie, darling, you look tired," my mother said, passing me the vegetables. Her eyes, so like my own, held a mixture of concern and disapproval. "Are you sleeping properly?"

"I'm fine, Mom," I replied, taking a small portion of carrots I had no appetite for.

My father cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the dining room. "Your mother and I have been talking," he began, his voice carrying that authoritative tone he'd used when I was a teenager. "About this... situation with Talon."

I set my fork down. "There's nothing to discuss. I've made my decision."

"Nonsense," my mother interjected, her voice sharp with unexpected anger. "One minute late to a party doesn't erase seven years of devotion."

I stared at her, momentarily speechless. This was the same woman who had initially warned me about dating "that troubled Butler boy" when Talon and I first got together in high school.

"Dad, you were the one who didn't trust him," I reminded my father, searching his face for understanding.

"That was years ago," he replied, his expression uncomfortable. "Talon's built a successful business. He's provided for you. He's always treated us with respect."

"Exactly," my mother added, reaching for my hand across the table. I pulled it away before she could grasp it. "He's proven himself, Emerie. And now you're throwing away a good man over... what? Jealousy?"

"Jealousy?" The word felt like a slap. "Is that what you think this is about?"

"Isn't it?" My father's eyebrows rose. "That girl, Luz—you've always been threatened by her."

I felt something crack inside me—the final piece of hope that my parents might understand.

"You don't know anything about what I've been going through," I said quietly, rising from my chair. "Excuse me."

---

Three days later, the doorbell of my apartment rang. I opened it to find Luz Ray standing there, her slender frame draped in a familiar pale blue cashmere scarf.

"Hey, Emerie," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"What do you want, Luz?" I kept my tone flat, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.

She shifted the scarf around her neck, her fingers caressing the soft material. "Oh, I just wanted to return this." She pulled the scarf from her neck. "Talon lent it to me last week when I was feeling under the weather. It's been so chilly lately."

I recognized it immediately—the scarf I'd spent weeks knitting for Talon last Christmas, learning the craft specifically to make it for him. The delicate pattern of waves I'd designed to represent his love of the ocean.

"He should have returned it himself," I said, taking the scarf from her outstretched hand.

"Oh, he wanted to, but..." She shrugged, her smile not reaching her eyes. "He's been so busy with work since the... incident."

I examined the scarf closer. It had been stretched out of shape, the careful stitching I'd labored over now distorted. A small hole had formed where the yarn had been worn thin.

"It's a beautiful piece," Luz continued, her voice casual but her eyes watching me intently. "Talon said you made it for him?"

"I did." I folded the damaged scarf carefully.

"He was so sweet, loaning it to me when I was shivering after that family emergency last month." She touched her neck where the scarf had been. "He's always so thoughtful, isn't he?"

I said nothing, the weight of yet another boundary crossed pressing down on me.

"Well, I should go," she said brightly. "Tell Talon I said hello!"

---

"These programs in Australia and New Zealand are quite competitive," Benedict said, spreading brochures across the coffee shop table. "But with your academic record, I think you have a strong chance."

I smiled gratefully at my childhood friend, taking a sip of my latte. "I wouldn't even know where to start without you, Benedict."

"That's what friends are for," he replied, his eyes warm as he handed me a pen to take notes.

We spent the next hour going through application requirements, Benedict patiently explaining the process and offering to help with recommendation letters.

"You know," he said finally, closing his notebook, "I've been meaning to tell you something."

I looked up, sensing a shift in his tone.

"I've noticed how hard things have been for you with Talon," he said quietly. "For years now."

My heart skipped a beat. "You have?"

He nodded, his expression serious. "The way he's always put Luz first. How you've slowly disappeared into the background of your own relationship."

"Why didn't you say anything?" I whispered.

Benedict's smile was gentle, tinged with sadness. "Some journeys we have to take ourselves, Em. You needed to find your way back to yourself before anyone else could help."

I stared at him, wondering how much he had seen all these years, and why I had never noticed.