Untethered

37 | Taken

IN CASE YOU MISSED IT: CHAPTER 36 WAS PRIVATE

~*~*~

Flipping the deadbolt, Emma turned and leaned back against the heavy, oak door, and lethargically slid out of her sandals. After leaving Manny's, she'd taken the long way home, driving aimlessly through the labyrinthine streets of Minneapolis, and then St. Paul. Her conversation with Manny overwhelmed her. It was so much more than she expected it would be. It was certainly more information than she'd hoped for, but she never expected such a personal connection to her dad. That the two of them had been such good friends, was more surprising.

Her father, right up until that moment, was simply a fictional entity in her mind. Not real. Partially, she had relegated him to the category of mythical creatures, simply to protect herself. If he wasn't real, then he couldn't hurt her. Of course, as recent events had revealed, her containment of him had been nothing more than an illusion. No matter how she labeled him, he had certainly affected her. Only now, the effect was different, and somehow more potent. He wasn't just the man who'd left her, betrayed her. He was the man who loved her at the cost of his own life. He'd wanted the best for her and sacrificed more than she would probably ever comprehend to ensure hers and Evan's well-being.

Now, somehow, it hurt more than it did before.

He'd loved her.

The entire drive home, all ninety-three minutes, she was in a daze with too many thoughts evasively swirling through her mind. One would no more appear, when it was whisked away, before she could grasp it. She wanted order, some way to make sense of all she'd learned, but her focus was shot.

Now that she was home safe, she hoped her mind would settle, allowing her to sift through her muddled thoughts. But the only thing she could get a grip on, was that one, single thought—he loved her.

On leaden legs, she ascended the stairs, but instead of continuing down the hall to her own room, she stopped at the top of the landing. Right in front of the room that used to be her dad's. Hesitantly, she reached out and wrapped her fingers around the doorknob, pausing for a breath. Then, abruptly, she twisted and pushed it open, stepping inside. Uncertainty kept her feet planted just inside the door. Why did I come in here? She'd never had the urge to be in this room before.

Though he'd moved out and had his own house, her grandparents had kept it the way he left it. After his death, any thought of repurposing it, had completely disappeared. Emma never understood it. She supposed, it was out of regret. Grandma and Grandpa wishing for a time before everything went to hell, when they still had their son at home, and robberies, conniving women, and murder wasn't a remotely possible outcome for their lives.

Just goes to show, no one can predict the future, she thought bitterly.

Slowly, carefully, she moved further into the room. At first, she merely let her eyes wander, drinking in the details. Though she'd been in here before, she'd never viewed it the way she was now. Now, she was searching for clues. Rather than simply a memorial to a dead man, it was the window into the soul of one who had lived. One she'd never spared a feeling for, because she'd been so sure he hadn't given a damn about her.

She stopped in front of the bookshelf on the opposite wall, and let her eyes and fingertips run over the items displayed. There were numerous books, and she wondered if they'd shared the same love for reading. His were mostly non-fiction and mostly about WWII. Probably his interest stemmed from his own father's experience in the war. Her eyes skimmed over the titles, and she was about to move on, when her eyes settled on a large photo album buried on the second-to-bottom shelf.