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The little ball of anxiety that had been sitting in her stomach since Hannah’s explosion grew exponentially. “What isn’t?”
Her cousin looked down at his lap. “You living here. I don’t think it’s a good idea anymore.”
His words were so unexpected she didn’t process them for a long moment. When she finally did, it was like the ceiling had fallen on her. “You’re kicking meout?”
He held up his hands. “It’s not like that.”
Her head was spinning. “Then I can stay?”
Pedro swallowed, but he straightened his shoulders with uncharacteristic firmness. “No.”
“Please don’t freak out—you’re not going to be homeless. Garrett is finding a place for you.”
“Oh God,” she groaned. That was the last thing she wanted. How could Garrett do this?
Then she remembered the look on his face when he’d seen the piles of things in the room.
“Wait. Did he offer to take me off your hands first? Is that why you’re doing this?”
“I know this is a shock,” he said, ignoring her questions. “But I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
He broke off, his voice cracking. Pedro's shoulders rounded back up as if he was drawing in on himself. “It was different… seeing this place from someone else’s eyes.”
Emma’s panic quieted, sympathy welling at the palpable despair in his voice.
She didn’t need to ask if he was referring to Garrett, not Hannah. Not that the younger woman’s low opinion wouldn’t have decimated him under normal circumstances.
But everyone else faded into the backgroundwhen Garrett Chapman was in the room. His presence would have thrown the hoard into sharp relief.
Emma had only known Garrett a few days in this post-accident incarnation of herself. But this awareness of him felt older, as if she had been pre-tuned to pick up his frequency.
What an idiotic thought. Emma rubbed her forehead. The stress was making her stupid. She had Garrett’s number because he was a white alpha male who thought his money and power entitled him to run other people’s lives. The US government was full of them.
No. Her shy, troubled cousin wouldn’t be able to stand his ground against him.
His next words confirmed that conclusion. “Garrett spoke to Hannah and convinced her not to evict me but there were conditions. One of them is that you and the cat are going to be relocating to a new apartment.”
Emma could barely believe her ears. Garrett had negotiated her out of her home.
“So it’s not enough for the kitten to go,” she said. “I have to leave too.”
Pedro was near tears as well.
“I’m not well, Em.” He gestured to the mess around them with a broken half wave. “And if I can’t take care of myself, how can I take care of you?”
“I take care of you too!” she protested. “We take care of each other.”
Or at least they tried. But even she had to admit they did a piss-poor job of it sometimes.
She swallowed, wiping under her eyes. “What if you get worse after I’m gone?”
“I might. I can only try. I’m going to start therapy.”
Emma sucked in a surprised breath. She had broached the subject countless times, but Pedro had always dismissed the suggestion or changed the subject.
Well, of course he wouldn’t listen to her. She was more messed up than he was. Yet the moment Superman walked in the door…
But he was finally getting help.Was she even allowed to be mad?