The Truest Thing - Hart's Boardwalk

As he approached the building, he noticed the signage and frowned.

BALANCE: Counseling Center for Children and Adults.

What the hell?

Blood pumping for the first time in months, Jack wrenched the door open and stepped inside the building. It was toasty, making his cold cheeks flush warm. The reception area was empty except for a young man behind a desk whose eyes were glued to the pages of the paperback in his hands. Jack ignored him and strode down the wide hall in search of Em.

A burst of laughter brought his attention to double doors at the end of the corridor. Stopping outside, he peered in through the glass panes and he zeroed in on her. She’d taken off her coat and scarf and was lowered to her haunches in front of a young boy of about seven or eight years old.

Emery beamed that beautiful smile as she talked, and the boy burst into laughter.

Other kids approached her. Awe moved through Jack as he watched her engage with the kids in a way he’d never seen from her. She was like a totally different person, and the kids seemed to gravitate to her, even though she wasn’t the only adult in the room.

“Uh, can I help you?”

Jack startled at the voice and turned to find the young man from reception standing next to him.

He hadn’t even heard him approach, he’d been so focused on Em. “What is this?” he pointed to the room.

The young man frowned. “Why?”

Jack glowered fiercely at him.

A flicker of unease moved over the guy’s face, and he swallowed hard. “Well, uh, it’s a playgroup for children who either have cancer or have loved ones who have or are dying from cancer. It’s a form of therapy and togetherness but in a normalized environment.”

“And why is Emery here?”

“You know Emery?” The guy’s entire face brightened at her name. “Oh, she’s one of our volunteers. She’s a total sweetheart. Comes every Monday morning to play with the kids. They love her.”

The information moved through Jack in a painful ache as he turned to watch her.

It was like losing his chance with her all over again.

He mourned her.

He mourned her and what could have been.

But this … this evidence of her goodness just reminded him how far out of his reach Emery Saunders had become.

Jack’s chest tightened. It was too tight. His skin too.

Without another word, he marched out of the building. He sucked in a giant gulp of crisp, chilly air and rested his hands on his hips as he tried to get himself together.

He was shaking, for Christ’s sake.

Glaring across the street at the fancy car he now drove, Jack tried to force himself to move toward it. There was no reason to stay. There was no reason to engage in conversation with her. That’s what he told himself.

Yet, he couldn’t move.

Jack stood outside that building for an hour until people, presumably parents and guardians, arrived to pick up their kids. Most of them came back out not long later with children in tow.

Then she was there.

She stepped outside as she wound her scarf around her neck. He watched as she moved to the side, her mind elsewhere, and pulled her long hair out from underneath the scarf. It fell down her back in thick, silky waves and slim braids, and Jack imagined for the millionth time what it would feel like to run his fingers through her hair.

“Emery.”

Her head jerked in his direction, her expression one of surprise.

But for the first time since he’d known her, Emery didn’t blush upon seeing him.

Her surprise turned to utter blankness.

And that fucking killed him.

“Jack.” She nodded at him.

And then walked right by him.

As if he didn’t exist.

As if he hadn’t waited for over an hour just to see her.

But what else had he expected?

He’d stood her up and then weeks later screwed his best friend’s wife.

Jack turned to watch Emery walk away.

It hurt.

It hurt a fucking lot.

Good.

It’s only what I deserve.

Taking a deep breath, Jack turned from watching Emery and strode across the street to the fancy car he hated. He got in, making sure not to wrinkle the fancy suit he hated, and he drove back to South Hartwell to the fancy house he hated.

By the time he got there, he felt nothing but cold again.

8

Emery

Four and a half years ago

There were many advantages to owning a beach house, but that morning, it was seeing Jack running along the shore.

Two days ago, when we’d acknowledged each other’s presence outside the counseling building where I volunteered with the kids, my hurt manifested into coldness that I regretted as soon as I got into my car. Ahmad, the receptionist, had said a guy was in asking for me at the beginning of the playgroup, but it wasn’t until I reached my car that I realized it must’ve been Jack.