Chapter 2: BACK HOME

The window rolled down completely.

"Emma? Emma, is that you?"

I knew that voice. Deep. Familiar.

"Marcus?"

My older brother leaned out. His face was tight with worry.

"What are you doing in the street? You're soaking wet. Get in the car."

I didn't move. Couldn't move.

"Emma. Now."

He got out. Came around. Helped me up like I was made of glass.

Everything felt numb. Cold.

Marcus grabbed my suitcase. Put it in the trunk. Then he opened the back door and practically lifted me inside.

The car was warm. Leather seats. Soft music playing.

"What happened?"

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out except a sob.

Marcus cursed under his breath. He pulled back onto the road.

"Did Jake do something? I swear to God if he hurt you..."

"He was sleeping with Mia."

The car swerved slightly. Marcus gripped the wheel harder.

"What?"

"In our bed. I came home early and they were... they were..."

I couldn't finish. The tears started again.

"That piece of trash. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to actually kill him."

"Don't."

My voice came out small. Broken.

"He's not worth it."

Marcus was quiet for a long time. His jaw kept clenching and unclenching.

"Mom's been trying to call you all day. She had a feeling something was wrong."

Of course she did. Mom always knew.

"I don't want to see anyone right now."

"Too bad. You're coming home."

Home. My childhood house. The place I ran from when I thought I was so grown up. So in love.

What a joke.

The drive felt too short and too long at the same time.

Marcus pulled into the driveway. The lights were all on inside.

"They know you're coming?"

"I texted Dad when I found you."

Great. Just great.

The front door flew open before we even got out of the car.

Mom rushed down the steps. Dad right behind her.

"Emma! Baby!"

She wrapped me in her arms. She smelled like vanilla and home.

I broke down again. Right there on the driveway.

"What did he do? Marcus said... he said..."

Dad's voice was scary calm.

"Jake cheated on her. With Mia."

Mom gasped. Dad went completely still.

"That boy is dead. He's dead. I'm going over there right now."

"Michael, no."

Mom held up her hand. Still holding me with the other arm.

"Let's get Emma inside first. She's freezing."

They led me into the house. Sat me on the couch. Wrapped me in blankets.

Mom made tea. Dad paced back and forth like a caged tiger.

Marcus stood by the window. His hands in fists.

"We should sue him," Dad said.

"For what?"

"I don't know. Emotional distress. Something."

"We should tell everyone what he did," Marcus added.

"Ruin his reputation. Make sure everyone knows he's trash."

I sipped the tea. It burned my tongue but I didn't care.

"I just want to forget."

Mom sat beside me. Took my hand.

"Sweetheart..."

"Please. I just... I can't think about this anymore. I can't."

They exchanged looks. The kind parents give each other when they're plotting something.

Mr. Mrs Foster has been really caring since my childhood.

They want the best for me, and my siblings.

"You need a fresh start," Mom said softly.

"I know."

"No, I mean a real fresh start. Something to look forward to."

I looked at her. Where was this going?

Dad sat down on my other side.

"Your mom and I have been talking to the Chens. You remember them? They have that nice son. Daniel."

Oh no.

"No."

"He's a doctor now. Very successful. Very kind. Your Aunt May says he's been asking about you."

"I said no."

Marcus turned around.

"Emma, just hear them out."

"You too? Are you kidding me right now?"

Mom squeezed my hand.

"I know this seems sudden. But you deserve someone good. Someone who will treat you right."

"I just got cheated on three hours ago!"

"Exactly," Dad said.

"You need to move on. Show Jake you're not broken. Show him you're better off without him."

I pulled my hand away.

"I'm not going on some arranged date. This isn't the 1800s."

"It's not arranged," Mom said quickly.

"It's just... guided. We're just introducing you. That's all."

"I don't want to be introduced. I want to go to bed and cry for a week."

"And then what?" Marcus asked.

"You stay sad forever? Let Jake win?"

"This isn't about winning!"

But maybe it was. Maybe they were right.

Jake said I was boring. Predictable. That I wasn't exciting enough.

What if I proved him wrong?

"Just one date," Mom said.

"One dinner. If you hate it, we'll never mention it again."

"I'll hate it."

"So you'll go?"

I looked at all of them. Their faces full of hope and concern and anger on my behalf.

They loved me. They wanted to help.

Even if this was the worst idea ever.

"Fine. One date. But when it crashes and burns, I'm saying I told you so."

Mom smiled. Actually smiled like she'd won the lottery.

"That's my girl."

Dad clapped his hands together.

"I'll call Mr. Chen tomorrow. We'll set it up."

"Not tomorrow. I need time."

"This weekend then."

This weekend. Three days away.

Three days to pull myself together. To stop looking like a zombie.

"Whatever. Can I go to my room now?"

Mom kissed my forehead.

"Of course baby. Your room is exactly how you left it."

I trudged upstairs. Every step felt heavy.

My childhood room. Pink walls I'd painted when I was sixteen. Posters of bands I used to love. My old desk covered in stickers.

It felt like going backwards.

I caught sight of myself in the mirror.

My eyes were swollen and red. Mascara streaked down my cheeks. My hair was a wet tangled mess.

I looked destroyed.

I felt destroyed.

Jake's words echoed in my head.

Boring. Predictable. Not exciting.

My hands shook as I grabbed a tissue. Wiped my face.

Two months. He cheated for two months.

While I was planning our future.

While I was being loyal. Faithful. Good.

And what did good get me?

Heartbreak. Betrayal. A family trying to set me up on pity dates.

I stared at my reflection.

"Fine," I whispered.

"Fine. I'll go on the stupid blind date."

Maybe it would be terrible. Maybe I'd spend the whole time crying into my soup.

But at least I'd be doing something. Anything.

Better than sitting here drowning in memories of Jake and Mia.

I changed into pajamas. Crawled into bed.

My phone was still in my jacket pocket. I grabbed it.

Seventeen missed calls from Mia. Twelve texts.

I blocked her number without reading them.

Then I blocked Jake.

Done. Over. Gone.

I closed my eyes. Prayed for sleep.

It didn't come.

I tossed and turned all night. Every time I drifted off I saw them. Together. Laughing at me.

By morning I felt worse than before.

The next three days passed in a blur.

Mom kept bringing me food I couldn't eat.

Dad kept muttering about lawyers.

Marcus kept offering to "handle things."

I just stayed in my room. Staring at the ceiling.

Friday night came too fast.

Mom knocked on my door.

"Emma? The reservation is at seven. You should start getting ready."

"I don't want to go."

"You promised."

I had. Unfortunately.

I dragged myself to the shower. Stood under the hot water until it ran cold.

Then I did my makeup. Picked a simple black dress. Nothing fancy.

This wasn't a real date anyway. Just... obligation.

I looked almost human again. Almost.

Six forty-five.

My phone buzzed on the dresser.

A text from an unknown number.

I picked it up.

Read the message.

"Your blind date is waiting. Table 7."

My stomach dropped.

He was already there.

Waiting for me.

Some successful doctor who probably had better things to do on a Friday night.

This was going to be a disaster.

I grabbed my purse. Took a deep breath.

"You can do this," I told my reflection.

"One dinner. Then you're free."

I headed downstairs.

Marcus was waiting by the door.

"I'm driving you."

"I can drive myself."

"Not negotiable. Come on."

The restaurant was downtown. Fancy. White tablecloths. Soft lighting.

The kind of place Jake never took me.

Marcus parked out front.

"Want me to come in?"

"No. I'm not twelve."

"Text me when you're done. I'll come get you."

"I have my car... oh wait. No I don't."

Because my car was at the apartment. Jake's apartment. My old life.

"Just text me."

I got out. Smoothed my dress.

The hostess smiled at me.

"Table seven?"

How did she know?

"Um. Yes."

"Right this way."

My heart pounded with every step.

What if he was ugly? What if he was boring? What if he took one look at me and left?

What if I wanted him to leave?

We rounded the corner.

The hostess gestured to a table in the back.

"Here you are."

I looked up.

And froze.

The man sitting at table seven...

That wasn't Daniel Chen.