Emily nodded, her jaw set with determination despite her wobbling legs. Sophia reluctantly handed over the phone, hovering nearby like a protective mother hen.
Taking a deep breath, Emily pressed the phone to her ear. “Hey daddy,” she managed, her voice cracking slightly.
“Fuck,” Lucas swore, his deep voice rumbling through the line. “Emily, baby girl, are you okay?”
Emily let out a strangled laugh, running her free hand through her tangled hair. “I’m in shock, if I’m being honest,” she admitted. “This is some seriously messed up shit.”
Lucas chuckled, the sound both familiar and strange in this new context. “It sounds like you’re a bit drunk too, baby girl.”
“Yeah, well, tequila seemed like a good idea at the time,” Emily muttered, sliding down to sit on the kitchen floor. Her head was spinning, a mix of alcohol and emotional whiplash. “What the fuck are we supposed to do now, Lucas?”
She could almost hear him running his hand over his face, a habit she’d grown to love. The thought made her chest ache.
“I don’t know,” he said softly. “But I meant what I said earlier, Emily. I love you. That hasn’t changed.”
Emily’s breath caught in her throat. “Even though I’m your son’s ex?”
“Even though,” Lucas affirmed. “Look, this is fucked up, no doubt. But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
Emily closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the cabinet. “I love you too,” she whispered, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. “God help me, I do.”
Emily took a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around the phone. “I don’t want to lose you, Lucas,” she said, her voice raw with emotion. “But I don’t know how to process this. It’s like some twisted cosmic joke.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. When Lucas finally spoke, his voice was heavy, resigned. “I understand, Emily. I do.” He let out a soft sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured things going when I found my son.”
Emily could picture him sitting in his living room, probably nursing a glass of whiskey, his blue eyes clouded with worry. The image made her heart clench.
“Fuck,” she muttered, banging her head against the cabinet. “What are we supposed to do now? I mean, how do we even begin to navigate this shitshow?”
Lucas’ laugh was hollow. “I wish I had an answer for you, baby girl. I really do.” There was a rustling sound, like he was shifting in his seat. “But I need you to know something. Whatever you decide, whatever happens next… I’m here. I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to.”
Emily’s breath hitched. She wanted nothing more than to be in his arms right now, to feel his solid presence grounding her. But the reality of their situation loomed large, impossible to ignore.
“I need time,” she whispered, hating how small her voice sounded. “To think, to process. Can you… can you give me that?”
“Of course,” Lucas replied, his voice thick with emotion. “Take all the time you need, Emily. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
As the call ended, Emily let the phone slip from her fingers, curling into herself on the kitchen floor, tears streaming down her face. The world had tilted on its axis, and she had no idea how to right it again.
Sophia slid down beside Emily, her arm wrapping around her friend’s shaking shoulders. The cold tile of the kitchen floor seeped through their clothes, but neither woman moved.
“Em,” Sophia said softly, “what do you want to do for the rest of the night? It’s up to you.”
Emily lifted her tear-stained face, her green eyes bloodshot and unfocused. She let out a bitter laugh. “What do I want? Fuck, Soph. I want to fall into Lucas’ arms and for it to somehow be okay. I want this whole mess to disappear.”
Sophia squeezed her tighter. “I know, babe. I know.”
Emily’s mind raced, memories of Lucas’ touch, his laugh, the way he looked at her like she hung the fucking moon. But now those images were tainted, intertwined with Ryan’s betrayal, the hurt, the anger.
“Christ,” Emily muttered, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “How fucked up is it that I’m still thinking about him? That I still want him?”
Sophia shrugged. “It’s not fucked up, Em. It’s human. You can’t just switch off your feelings because the situation’s gone to shit.”
Emily leaned her head back against the cabinet, closing her eyes. “I love him, Soph. I fucking love him. And now… now I don’t know if I can ever look at him without seeing Ryan.”
“So what do you want to do?” Sophia asked again, her voice gentle but insistent.
Emily’s eyes snapped open, a spark of determination cutting through the haze of alcohol and heartache. “I want to get fucking wasted. I want to dance until I can’t feel my feet. I want to forget, just for tonight.”
Sophia grinned, already pulling Emily to her feet. “Now that’s a plan I can get behind. The bar down the road is doing cheap shots tonight.”
As they stumbled towards the door, Emily paused, her hand on the doorknob. “Soph? Thanks. For everything.”
Sophia just winked, already calling for a cab. “What are best friends for if not cleaning up each other’s romantic disasters?”