“Emma … I want you to know how much I love you … I mean really love you … There’s no one else in this world for me. I need you …” He gets up and paces around for a moment, making me feel sick with worry but relieved that this isn’t a breakup speech. He comes back to his previous position and swallows hard. “Last night, when I thought you’d done something, after the talk about not wanting to marry me and pretty much breaking up … It fucked me up in the head.” His eyes are focused on my hands and I can see they are filled with unshed tears; he can’t look at me. “None of this changes how I feel about you … I need you to know that I still love you every bit as much as I did, I still want the same things with you, and I acted like a complete fucking idiot at the airport … I believe you when you text me that nothing happened. I wish I had the sense to realize it last night, but I was so

“I think it’s best if I go as soon as I can get myself together.” I don’t think that’s possible right now, my body is detached and useless, barely wanting to move, let alone get up. My heart is aching so heavily it throbs through my chest and stomach. I feel sick with all of it. My head is light and swimming with the effort of trying to breathe. My nose is blocked from crying and my throat is raw and raspy.“I can’t … I can’t, Emma!” His voice suddenly turns powerful, tugging me to him in a flash and I yelp in surprise. He buries his face into my hair, crushing me in his embrace letting out the pain he’s been holding back. I never in my life thought I would see Jake cry and it’s the most awful thing I’ve ever witnessed. My heart is broken in two. It has the same effect as watching everyone I love cut down and murdered while I lie useless and watch.I sob into his body in reaction, trying des

I spend the next several days locked in my own solitude, leaving only to buy groceries then returning home. I’ve mindlessly sat through so many hours of daytime TV and horrible romantic movies that make me want to throw books at the screen. Sarah should be back soon, and I don’t want her to see what I’ve become; some slobbish, tear-stained, mess of a girl who’s been living in a sea of junk food, chocolate wrappers, and screwed up tissues.Classy look, Emma; really holding yourself together, aren’t you? After a much-needed pep talk and a long agonizing look in the mirror I am finally so sick of my depressive mood and disgusting behavior. I force myself to get up and stop moping around like a broken-hearted zombie, doing anything to stop mulling it over in my brain.I busy myself with cleaning the apartment, wiping away hours of lying around sobbing into tissues eating carbs; the endless sea of clothes on my floor

I stare at the folded paper in my hand, with shaking fingers, the envelope discarded, now lying on the bed with his neat scroll on the front. I take an eternity to run my fingers across the neat lettering, pain shooting through me from every angle. I inhale deeply steadying my nerves, unfolding the thick cream paper, biting my lip. I drag courage from somewhere telling myself I should dive in and do it. Emma, I’m sorry, bambino, so extremely sorry. I don’t even know what writing to you is going to achieve, but I had to do something. I saw them packing up every piece of you and I had to stop myself from tearing it out of their hands and holding onto it all. I can’t bear it. I feel like everything they remove is a slash across my heart.I know I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll do anything to have it, anything to get you back. I made a stupid mistake, I wasn’t

“Oh, my God! Leila get down!” I’m laughing so hard my sides hurt as Leila dances along the bar top shimmying and singing full pelt into the wireless mic of the karaoke machine. She’s in full rock star mode, strutting her stuff like a coyote ugly wannabe. Sarah is so drunk she’s sprawled over the bar; laughing at my poor attempts to control the wild petite blonde.“Leave her alone honey, she looks mighty fine up there.” Some sleazy fat man grabs my wrist tugging my arm from Leila’s leg and I recoil in disgust at his touch. His eyes travel up under the dress she borrowed from me to wear and my repulsion grows into something more empowering; seething anger. I elbow him hard in the ribs and stand back with a feisty glare when he comes around at me. “What the hell is wrong with you? Crazy bitch!” He moves in angrily, but my inner anger and psycho switch clicks on, pulling my height up to its full length in readiness, too