Emelia is going to end her life. In an outlandish hotel room in Las Vegas, she keys in her question to the internet search screen; HOW TO COMMIT A CLEAN SUICIDE. The wedding was too much; watching the man she had loved, the man who cheated on her, s...
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P R O L O G U E
Emelia gulped. The saliva barely found its way down. Sweat dampened her brows and another tremor moved through her spine. Somehow, something sane still remained inside of her and it pleaded, Don't scream, don't cry. Go numb. Go numb.
She remembered the day she realized she loved Gordon. She opened her eyes one morning and he lay right across from her, asleep and calm. Her life was always hectic, chaotic and unstable; college was always racking her nerves, family relationships strained, she had little to no friends.
But then suddenly a man asked her out for coffee. Somehow those little dates became longer, slower. Easier. It's not that she had trust issues, but neither did she let anyone in easily. Her parents divorced while she was young. Her father, Luke, could never get over the separation. Emmy loved him dearly, but she couldn't help him through his heartbreak. Her mother walked away fine; Roseanne remarried within the new year, and though she was happy with her new husband Rick... she never shared or opened back up to her daughter.
The only time Emelia saw her mother cry over her father was when they found out he had been hit by a drunk driver. Emelia was sixteen by then. She stood at his bedside and kissed him one last time. They buried him on a somber rainy day.
She hadn't been to the grave since.
The only person she could really rely on, the only person that stood with her and shared her fears; Vicky, her only sister. Together, through thick and thin they did everything. She was Emmy's only foundation in this world.
Until Gordon. He loved her dearly, held her close every night and picked at her walls until they came crumbling down around her own laughter.
He was her everything. Was.
Another swaying of emotions pulled her out of the cyclone of emotions and memories. She fought the sensation to puke up what was in her stomach and to remain standing. Instead, she let her eyes burn forward, watching Gordon. She hadn't seen him since last year. She hadn't seen him since he tried to sit her down with her family.
Emmy glanced right and watched her mother and stepfather. They smiled and talked to those closest to them, but she could see it... sense it. They were more than aware of her presence. They were watching her with merciless eyes. They all were.
The dozens of eyes on her back burned against her skin.
How sad, they seemed to say, Did you see her face? Will she snap, I wonder?
Another tremor clamored down her spine and her knees wobbled.
"Emelia." her grandmother, Iris, whispered beside her, "If you faint, I won't blame you, but you must be prepared of the squabble and show it will cause. Stay strong, my girl. Don't show those rotten bastards anything."
"I'm trying." Emmy barely whispered.
Her grandmother nodded glumly. "I suppose, if need be, I can distract the room by some means. Would you like me to smack that altar boy? He does seem suspicious; might do no harm in randomly demanding him to explain what he was up to. That would draw the eyes away. And deter him if he really is up to no good."
