Emma’s fingers slide gently between mine.
I squeeze her hand once before exhaling softly. “I think I’m ready,” I whisper.
She leans in to kiss me, her soft lips tasting of chocolate. “I know you are.”
***
My parents’ beach house rises ahead of us through the fading wash of spring dusk, framed by towering evergreens that sway in the ocean wind. Warm string lights glow along the wraparound porch in strands of gold. It’s beautiful.
The sight of it has me tightening my grip on the steering wheel for a second before shutting off the Audi. Silence settles inside the car afterward. I was going to sell this thing, considering I fucking overdosed in it. But I just can’t find it in me to get rid of the damn thing.
Beside me, Emma watches quietly. Her hand slides gently over mine. “You don’t have to do this perfectly,” she says softly.
A weak breath leaves me as I stare out through the windshield toward the house. “That’s unfortunate, considering I’m currently seconds away from throwing up.”
The corner of her mouth lifts faintly before she leans across the center console and presses a slow kiss against my cheek. “You’re okay,” she whispers.
I nod, but my fingers still flex anxiously against my thigh before I finally force myself to open the door. Emma walks beside me up the stone pathway toward the porch while my pulse pounds harder with every step. Because suddenly all I can think about is the moment they look at me and really see me again.
Not the version from magazine covers or the version twisted apart online during the trial.
Me.
The son who disappeared into addiction, violence, blood, and captivity so completely that even he stopped recognizing himself.
“They already know,” Emma says gently, reading my thoughts with terrifying accuracy. “And they still love you.”
That almost makes it worse. When we first arrived back in Seaside, I didn’t want to see my family until I got some help. Rafe had been very adamant about my going to therapy, that crazy motherfucker. So Emma came here and explained everything to my parents. Told them about what I went through. All of it.
The lights inside the house glow warmly through the enormous front windows as we reach the porch steps. I can already see movement deeper inside the living room.
Then the front door swings open, and my mother appears. Rachel Graves stands frozen in the doorway, her long black hair falling over one shoulder while her blue eyes lock onto mine so intensely it physically hurts to hold her gaze. She looks beautiful, exactly the way she always has, but there’s grief in her expression. Fuck, I’ve done so much damage to this amazing woman.
I hate myself.
Her hand flies to her mouth, and behind her, Vanessa appears, her own blue eyes already filling with tears. Then my father steps into view behind them both, broader and steadier, his hazel eyes fixed entirely on me.
Nobody speaks at first.
And I swear for one horrible second I’m seventeen again, standing in front of people I love while terrified they’re finally about to realize something inside me is fundamentallywrong.
Then my mother breaks. “Oh, sweetheart,” she whispers shakily.
The sound of her voice destroys me instantly.
She crosses the porch so fast I barely have time to react before her arms are around me, pulling me tightly against her while a sob breaks from her chest. Her hands clutch at the back of my jacket.
And suddenly I can’t breathe either. “Hey, mom,” I choke out weakly, my voice cracking apart.
Her fingers slide into my hair the same way they used to when I was younger and sick or scared or heartbroken over something small. “Oh my god,” she cries softly against my shoulder. “You’re home. You’refinallyhome. My sweet boy.”
The words make my heart feel heavy. I nod shakily against her because I physically cannot force words past the pressure building in my throat.
Vanessa wraps herself around both of us, crying openly now without even attempting to hold it together, and suddenly all three of us are tangled together beneath the porch lights while ocean wind tears softly through our hair.
“You scared the absolute shit out of me,” Vanessa whispers brokenly after pulling back just enough to grab my face between both hands.
A weak laugh escapes me through tears. “Sorry.”