Lonely Hearts

Chapter twenty-three: Lincoln

I watched Skye sleep next to me, watching her chest rise and fall with every breath she took. I had caved and we were curled up on a soft double bed in a small hotel room and I had to admit it was better than the crisp evening air.

I picked up my phone and switched on MyWritingApp, out of boredom, to read a bit more of Emma's book. A dot appeared in the corner of messages and out of surprise, I clicked on it.

I smiled as I read the cynical message and typed a response. Remembering the words I had told her a long time ago, words that were long overdue and out of date. Trust me, Emma. I'm coming for you. I'm not going to promise to make everything ok again. But I'm going to be there this time.

Skye blinked awake and smiled sleepily at me and I squeezed her hand gently.

"What's made you so cheerful?" She mumbled.

I thought about telling her about my sister's response but wanted to savour it a little longer. I wanted to keep this moment between us a little longer. So I went with the second truth instead.

"You did, my love." I replied.

She smiled. "You're so sentimental."

"Only in the mornings, my darling." I chuckled.

She rolled over and slid out of bed, and I chuckled before doing the same. We shook the covers out and picked up our things. We went to the bathroom and brushed our teeth companionably before squabbling over who got to use the shower first.

Skye kicked me out of the bathroom and I waited impatiently, pacing back and forth thinking about how close I was to reaching them. But what then?

You can't just waltz back into their lives and promise to make everything better, Lincoln. Seeing them isn't going to solve everything. The voice in my head sounded suspiciously like Emily's.

I know that.

So what is your plan?

To be there. To reassure them I love them. That I haven't forgotten about them.

And if there are people waiting to take you back to the Home?

Then I'll fight them. I'll fight everything to see them again.

Good luck with that.

"No need to sound so sarcastic." I mumbled.

I would figure this out. I had to.

~*~

A message pinged back later and I chuckled at the questions she asked. I asked her how she and Max were doing. How school was going. Asking her all the questions I had stored up over the last three years. But some I couldn't ask.

I wanted to ask her if she ever thought of me. If she ever wished I had been there. If she hated me for leaving her behind. But a part of me wasn't ready to hear the answers yet. For now, it was enough knowing she was there.

I love you, Emma. I promised you I would be there and I will be. I wrote instead and hoped she believed me.

Dots appeared as she wrote back, and I softened, thinking about all I had missed over the last three years.

I love you too. She said, and because that was really all I had been hoping to hear for three years, I began to cry.

Where are you? I asked.

I stared at the screen for what seemed like ages as the dots bounced up and down, fading every now and again as she wondered what to tell me.

Please don't hurt me again.