Unbroken

grappling for the upper hand. Daniel was on the wrestling team for years, but his finesse is nothing compared to Emerson’s brute power. His powerful back muscles ripple as he easily evades Daniel’s pin and flips on top.
    “You should have stayed away!” Emerson grounds out. I watch, horrified, as he lands another ugly punch in Daniel’s stomach, pinning him down and raising his fist again ready to smash it in Daniel’s face. “She’ll never be yours!”
    “Emerson!” I scream, lunging forwards. I launch myself at him, grasping on tight to pin his arms down, but Emerson shakes me off. I stumble back, tripping on the uneven lawn, and fall to the ground.
    My head hits with a painful crack, and I cry out.
    In an instant, Emerson releases Daniel and falls to his knees at my side. “Jules!” He gasps, cradling me, “Fuck, I’m sorry, are you OK?”
    I slowly pull myself into a seating position. My head is still ringing from the impact, pain blossoming out through my skull.
    “Jules? Talk to me, are you OK?” Emerson’s voice breaks with panic.
    I look up. He’s got a bloody nose from where Daniel got in a punch, and his eyes are still fevered with the fight, his breath coming fast. He reaches out to gently cup my cheek, turning my head from side to side to check for cuts.
    “Don’t touch her!” Daniel struggles up from the ground, looking red-faced and disheveled.
    “It’s OK,” I manage, “I’m fine.”
    Emerson’s face is stricken, dark eyes full of anguish. “I wasn’t thinking. I would never… Jules, you know I would never hurt you!”
    I nod, and squeeze his hand. “I know.”
    The irony rings in my ears. Of course Emerson would never knowingly lay a hand on me, but hurt me?
    It’s way too late for that.
    The two of them take my arms, and slowly help me to my feet. “I’m fine,” I say again, embarrassed by the fuss. “Really, it was just a fall.”
    Daniel turns on Emerson, furious. “Is this what you want?” He yells, voice rising. I look at him in shock. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Daniel so angry. “What the hell are you even doing here?” He demands, getting up in Emerson’s face. “Can’t you see, you bring her nothing but pain?”
    “It’s OK, Daniel.” I interrupt him, stepping between them before someone can throw another punch. “Go inside a minute.”
    Daniel shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you alone with him.”
    I expect Emerson to lunge at him again, but he drops my arm, and paces back and forth by the truck. I turn back to Daniel.
    “Trust me,” I say, imploring him. “Please? I need to do this.”
    Daniel glares at Emerson again, fierce enough to peel his skin back, but eventually, he nods. “I’ll be right inside,” he says loudly. “And if he so much as raises his voice…”
    “Thank you.” I exhale, relieved.
    Daniel goes inside again, and I wait until the door closes before turning back to Emerson. He’s still pacing, his dark head lowered, fists flexing and clenching at his sides.
    My emotions are churning in a whirlwind of fear, and doubt, and hope, and insecurity—everything bound up in this one moment, right here. But as I look at him, I feel a strange sense of strength. I can do this, I need to know what the hell’s going on.
    “Well?”
    When I speak, I’m surprised to hear my voice come out bold and even. I fold my arms, waiting. “What is it you came here to say to me?”
    Emerson lifts his head. “I… I fucked up.”
    I tremble at the misery in his expression, a deep ache in his eyes. But I force myself to stand firm.
    “Which part, exactly?” I demand, my voice steely. “The part where you run off this morning and leave to wake up alone? The part where you lie, and make up some reason for bailing? Or the part where I have to walk back all the way home like some stupid whore who was stupid enough to think that last night actually meant something?”
    Emerson flinches. “It did!”
    “Really?” I shoot back, my voice quaking now. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way to me. Fuck,” I swear, feeling the familiar sting of tears in the back of my throat. In an instant, all my resolve crumbles. I don’t want to be here yelling at him, I just want everything to be OK.
    “I don’t know what to say to you!” I beg. I reach for him, but Emerson strides away, his back turned. “Please, talk to me. What the hell is going on in that messed-up head of yours? Because I’ve tried to be patient, and