Unbroken

coffee, digging the percolator and cups out of an already-packed box. He sits me down in what’s left of the living room, and I curl up under a blanket, my hands wrapped around the warm mug. I tell him everything.
    Emerson. My mom. Coming back here. Everything.
    I try to skate around the details of me and Emerson together, but I can tell, Daniel understands. When I’m done, I sit back, nervously watching his face for the terrible judgment I know I deserve.
    Daniel takes a deep breath, and when he exhales, it’s like he’s letting go of something he’s held on to all this time.
    “You love him.” he says quietly.
    I nod.
    Daniel looks over at me, wounded. “Did you ever love me?”
    “Yes!” I cry, reaching over to grab his hand. “Daniel, I swear. You were the best thing that could have happened for me. You saved me. I loved you, I did.”
    “But not like him.” Daniel answers for the both of us.
    He looks at my hand holding his for a long moment, then squeezes it gently, and places it back down on the arm of the couch between us.
    He sighs again, raking his fingers through his hair with a look of rueful resignation. “I never stood a chance, did I?”
    I pause, but he deserves the truth. “No.”
    He’s right. No matter how much Daniel loved me, or how thoughtful and sweet he is, it’s no contest when it comes to Emerson.
    Because I realize now, that’s the way it works. That if you’re lucky, you might get to fall in love so hard and so deep, that it changes you. That love seeps its way into every atom and molecule in your whole being, so that even if it’s over, or the two of you are forced apart, you’ll always carry the imprint of their soul with you, steady as a heartbeat. Forever.
    I’ve had Emerson Ray’s name branded on my heart since the day we met, and nothing could ever change that.
    “You can come back to the city with me, you know.” Daniel tells me.
    I shake my head. “I told you, I can’t…”
    “No, this isn’t about us.” he interrupts. “I get it now, it’s over. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, Juliet. And I can’t stand to see you like this.”
    “A mess?” I manage to quip, but he shakes his head, stern.
    “So… helpless.”
    My mouth drops open in protest. Daniel’s face softens as he looks at me gently. “I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Look at you, you’re just sitting around in this house, waiting for him to come and choose to love you. That’s not a relationship, Juliet, it’s a hostage situation.”
    His words slip under my defenses with a shiver of truth. I want to defend Emerson, but with nothing but his voicemail as comfort all day, I don’t know what to say.
    “I’m just saying, the girl I knew wouldn’t take this crap from anyone.” Daniel adds, pushing it. “You had a plan, a whole vision of what you wanted your life to be. What happened to all those plans? Don’t just throw all of that away.”
    “I’m not throwing it away,” I protest, “I’m just… thinking things over.”
    “So where is he?” Daniel challenges. “While you’re doing all this thinking.”
    “I don’t know.” I reply in a quiet voice.
    “Are you going to stay here?” Daniel continues. “What about college, and finals, and jobs?”
    “I don’t know, OK!” My cry echoes in the house. I fold my arms defensively, feeling cornered by his questions. “I was going to move to DC with you,” I point out. “How is this any different?”
    “We made that decision together.” Daniel tells me with a blunt look. “We talked about it, weighed up all the options—for the both of us. Come on, you know I’m right.”
    I look down, playing with the frayed edge of the blanket. Daniel is talking sense, but the disappointment of waking up this morning is still an open wound, raw and bloody. I don’t know if I’m ready to hear this.
    Daniel sighs. “Just let me ask you one thing, OK?”
    I look back, and reluctantly nod.
    “If this love is as epic as you say it is—for him, not just you,” he adds quickly. “Then were the hell is he?”
    The question sits between us, laid out on the bare hardwood floors. All my worst fears and insecurities given a voice, and harder still, a look of painful sympathy staring back at me from Daniel’s concerned gaze.
    I cringe. The worst part is, he’s right. He’s just asking me the same question I’ve been asking myself, ever since I woke up alone this morning. Why isn’t Emerson here with