Chapter 62

  Emma who doesn’t cry … forgotten. Emma who never lets anyone see her vulnerable … vacant. Strong Emma … dissipated.

  “Jefferson is downstairs,” he croons. “The jet will be ready by the time we get there.” He lifts my chin up to his face and wipes away some of the wetness with his thumb. He knows I don’t want to talk, so he’s just being here. I want to tell him that he can’t come, but I don’t have the strength.

  I allow him to pull me to my feet and toward my bedroom. He leaves me at my door, pulls my empty suitcase from the floor where I left it, hauls open my closet and starts throwing in random clothes haphazardly. This makes me laugh through my tears, breaking the pain. Jake looks hopeless as a domestic, and I shake my head at him, pushing him aside gently.