Another reason to hate her—no red blotchy skin or ugly sobbing for this one. Nope, she was one of those pretty criers. Ugh.
“I didn’t die,” Emma said again, angrily swiping at the tears. “It just felt like it.” She moved to the front door and stepped out, staring down the street. Obviously not seeing Jack anymore, she came back in, looking pensive and reflective.
Alison was surprised to find that she could actually feel her pain, though she didn’t want to. “You’re not okay.”
“Yeah, well, you try coming out of a coma and being normal.”
“Oh, you’re perfectly normal,” Alison said. “And nice try on the deflection, but you should know my uncle and cousin call me a pit bull. You’re upset because you lost so much: your fiancé, your best friend, and nearly your ability to function—”
“Hell of a pep talk,” Emma murmured dryly.
Feeling way over her head, Alison searched her brain for how to proceed. But as much as she’d been studying, this situation hadn’t come up. “Maybe instead of fixating on what you’ve lost, what both you and Jack lost, you could concentrate on the fact that you lived. I mean yeah, so obviously your life isn’t what you’d planned, but hey, at least you’re still kicking.” Huh. That sounded pretty damn smart if she said so herself.
Emma was just staring at her. “Did you get that off a fortune cookie or something?”
That was just close enough to the truth to have Alison squirming. “Let’s just say that on a much, much smaller and far less traumatic scale, I understand guilt and loss. More than I want to.”
Emma studied her for a beat. “Go on.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“All the better.”
“Fine.” Alison drew a deep breath. “I told you I lost the love of my life. Only it wasn’t because he was a complete asshole. It was me. I’m the complete asshole. I self-destructed our relationship and hurt him, and I hate myself for that.”
“How did you self-destruct it? Did you cheat on him?”
“No. Worse. Before Ryan, I’d never . . .” How to say this? “I’d never really let anyone in. But then we got stuck in a snowstorm together for a week. Just the two of us in a ski cabin. Twenty-four, seven . . . It was both terrifying and the very best thing to ever happen to me.”
It’d been nearly a year and Alison hadn’t forgotten a single moment of it, not sticking together through the long hours of the eight nights without power, not how they’d made the most of their daylight hours as well, hauling wood in to keep warm, making snow angels, having snowball fights . . . God, she’d loved having snowball fights with him because he was competitive and he appreciated how she was the same . . . They’d always ended up breathless, wet, half frozen together, and then he’d warm her up . . .
She cleared her throat. “He got past my guard, and believe me that wasn’t easy,” she added. “But somehow he managed to bring out the best in me and I fell hard. Even more unbelievably, he fell hard for me.” She shook her head, still marveling at that. “He used to joke that he knew he was going to marry me from that first night we met.” Alison smiled in memory even as her heart squeezed so hard she could barely breathe. “He’s got a million friends, a huge extended family, and everyone loves him. There’s always some family gathering, a birthday, an anniversary, something, and there’s so damn many of them . . .”
Emma arched a brow. “Let me guess. You didn’t let yourself fit in.”
She flushed a little, because okay, yeah, that had been her in high school too. “I didn’t even try. Over and over again I made him choose between the people in his life and me, and he always, always gave me the benefit of the doubt.”
“So what happened?”
“He finally gave up on me,” Alison admitted. Not happy to find her own cheeks wet, she swiped angrily at them.
“So you were dumped. If you want him back, why not fight for him?”
“Not so good at that.”
“And yet you’re full of advice for me,” Emma said.
“Always easier to see someone else’s flaws. I’ve got to get back to work.” She stuck out her hand. “We doing this or what?”
Emma stared at the extended hand and then looked at Hog.
Hog rolled over onto his back for a belly rub.
Emma sighed. “He’s not very good at advice either.” But she shook Alison’s hand. “For better or worse.”
Chapter 14
Step 14: Don’t give up.
Simon’s day had been long and unsatisfying. It’d begun at dawn when he’d been yanked out of a dream by the sound of banging. He’d found his dad lying on the bathroom floor, head beneath the bathroom sink fixing a leaky pipe.
With a hammer.
After playing plumber, things had gone downhill from there. Running Armstrong Properties wasn’t particularly difficult, it just meant managing a lot of people with a lot of balls in the air, balls that continuously affected their bottom line.
He wasn’t a big fan of the people-managing part of the job, or the hours it added to the actual work. And then there was what was really on his mind. Or who.
Emma. Sweet, sexy, amazingly resilient, strong Emma—whom he hadn’t seen since the other night. Feeling grumpy, starving, and not a little frustrated, he pulled into the parking lot behind his apartment building.
At the same time as Alison.
Great. Perfect. He loved his cousin. He did. But he was already completely off-balance and out of sorts as he got out of his car with a bag of food he’d picked up from the diner.
Alison’s eyes lit up. “Yes. I knew I could score dinner here.”
“You know where else you could find dinner? At your place.”
“Sure, but I’d have to cook it first. I tried calling and texting you all day. I’ve got questions for you. And stuff to tell you.”
“Good or bad stuff?”
“Um . . . depends on your mood.”
“I’m in a not-in-the-mood-for-questions-and-stuff mood.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I give you the impression that this was optional?” She smiled. “It’s not.” She followed him through the lot toward the building. “So . . . you and Emma?”
“Not going there.”
She kept pace with him. “You do realize you kissed my mortal enemy and business partner.”
“It was a onetime thing, and—” He stopped short when her words kicked in. “Business partner?”
“See, if you’d called me back, you’d know this by now. I’m going into business with Emma.”
“My Emma?”
She went brows up. “Your Emma?”
He worked at giving his blank face, when he was feeling anything but blank. “She’s a patient and a friend.”
“Ah, but she’s no longer your patient. She fired you, remember? And as for being her friend, like I told Emma, I don’t know any friends who kiss with tongue.”
Simon ran a hand over his face. “I’ve got to delete that security app from Dad’s phone. And get Kelly to stop gossiping. They’re like two middle schoolers.”