DEPRAVITY : Embry Call

18

There is a phone ringing in the room. My phone, specifically. I recognize the ringtone as I awake from my slumber. It's mine, but I am so comfortable in his arms. I'm buried in them, like one might bury seeds, hoping they will blossom into a flower.

I am no flower, however.

I get up as he groans, holding his head.

The ringing stops before I can get to my phone.

Embry leans his back against the bed frame and wipes the sleep out of his eyes. I begin to throw on one of his t-shirts since all my clothes smell like fire. I'm going to have to wash them today or tomorrow before Henry comes home. He won't be happy to know that I've spent even a second enjoying myself. Never mind the cheating, he likes to see me suffer.

The phone rings again and Embry groans.

"Is that work?" he asks, grabbing a pillow and holding it over his face to dampen the sound.

I mean, I doubt it. My pager would have gone off. I check my watch and realize it's just past 5:00 in the morning. No wonder my head is pounding. The ache is unbearable. Still, I check the phone anyway to make sure that Henry didn't for some strange reason come home and find out that my car is in the driveway but I'm not home.

Instead, I am surprised to find my mother is calling me.

I press the phone to my ear, my fingers slipping across the phone as I answer the call.

"Hello," I speak to her in Korean. Something is wrong, and I don't want Embry to know about it yet.

"Hello, Bong Cha," her voice is shaking.

"What's wrong?" I ask. She never calls me by my Korean name. Both my parents wanted me to have a name that Americans would deem normal. My Appa always preferred Bong Cha and my Eomma liked Blythe.

It's got to be like two in the morning there. Like me, my parents have always been early-risers, but they also go to bed really early. They should be sleeping still.

"Can you come home?" she asks. "Your Appa is in the hospital."

Everything feels numb after that. I rush to pull on my pants from the night before, trying to stay on the phone with my Eomma. She tells me that he fell down the stairs in the middle of the night and hit his head. He's unconscious right now. I listen to her talk as I make sure everything is in my suitcase.

Embry walks up behind me as she is finishing up the conversation and I am promising to catch the next flight. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me in tightly. My heart rate relaxes. His soft breath on my neck would usually be electrifying, but now I find my body in tune with his. We breathe together, on the same beats, as if we are connected by a metronome.

When I hang up the phone, he gently moves around me, so he is facing me.

"What's happening?" he asks.

I don't want to explain. He brings me so much joy, I don't want to burden him with my sorrows. Our relationship isn't like that. He would run if he got the first chance to really see me for who I am. I live in lies and secrets, both to Henry and Embry. Really, Embry doesn't deserve that. How can I stop it?

"Can you drive me home?" I ask. "I need to make a call to Henry."

"I'll go start the car," he tells me. Before he goes, he kisses my forehead. Then, he walks around me and out the front door.