Untethered

44 | Healing

**For the entire uncensored version of this chapter, please go to Untethered: The Steamy Bits, on my profile by clicking the external link at the bottom of the page**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Water lapped at the dock, as Emma swirled her toes in the lake, making it sway and creak with the slight movement of her swinging legs. A few leaves littered the surface of the water, breaking up the otherwise pristine stillness, and she tracked them as they floated by. The frigid water had numbed her feet hours ago, so that she didn't even notice the coldness anymore. Not that she'd noticed to begin with. She was too lost in thought to care.

It had been over a month; almost the end of September, now, and he still hadn't come to see her. Hadn't even called or texted. She desperately wanted to see him. Was even considering coming home, like Evan wanted, just to get a glimpse of him. She knew that they'd been speaking. Once in awhile, Evan would let something slip, but it was never what she wanted to hear. He didn't miss her, he didn't want her, shit, she wasn't even sure he even thought about her.

She sighed, and then sank her teeth into her bottom lip, hard, to stave off the floodwaters collecting in her eyes, again. Pulling her feet out of the water, she tucked her legs up, resting her chin on her knees. Blood began circulating, warming her toes, and she welcomed the pain. First the tingle, and then the electric prickling of her nerves coming back to life. If it distracted her from thinking about Ryan, it was worth it. Because that hurt worse than anything she'd ever felt in her whole life. Including losing her grandma and the beating she took from Daniel.

Even the nightmares were better than this waking agony. Those weren't real, she could wake from them. She could remember that it was just a dream; Daniel was dead, and couldn't hurt her anymore. But this, this was real. Ryan wasn't here, he wasn't coming, and she wouldn't wake up from it, and find that it was just a figment of her imagination.

Suddenly an excited "yip" burst out of Layla, and the warmth from where she was curled against Emma's back, left her. Emma sighed. She'd ignored Evan's calls for the last two days. She'd been expecting him to give her hell for it, but thought he'd wait until tomorrow, when he usually came up.

Heavy footsteps thudded against the weathered planks of the dock, and it dipped and swayed under the added weight. Layla pranced around, her nails scraping on the wood, grunting excitedly at the newcomer. Emma couldn't blame her, really. Even Evan was better company than she'd been lately.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls," she said, without turning to look at him. "You could've waited until Friday to yell at me, though."

She was met with silence, then:

"I didn't come to yell at you," said a hoarse voice from behind her. "I thought it was time I come to see you."

Her breath caught in her throat, right behind the large lump that had suddenly arisen there. Squeezing her eyes shut, she hugged her legs tighter, and made a small, strangled sound in the back of her throat.

"Emma?" Ryan's voice was hardly a whisper, but she recognized it. She still didn't turn around, fearful that she was just imagining it, and he would be gone. But then he touched her, and all the oxygen exploded from her body in a loud sob. "Darlin', are you okay?"

She shook her head, "no," and he hesitated. And then, suddenly she was hauled upward, spun around, and crushed to his chest, his arms like bands of iron. She convulsed violently, all the tears she'd been suppressing, flooding down her face and soaking his shirt. Winding her arms around his waist, her hands clawed and fisted at the back of his shirt so tight that her knuckles whitened, and her fingers went numb.