Emily walked through the doors of the apartment, half hoping Lucky wouldn’t be there. It wasn’t that the idea of him being around didn’t set her pulse racing--it did; it wasn’t that she was trying to avoid him--she couldn’t if she tried; it was just that she didn’t want to see him miserable. Not after her wonderful afternoon.

Emily slipped through the hallway, creeping like a cat burglar. Maybe, she thought, Lucky would be sleeping. Lately sleeping, eating and staring at the wall seemed to be the only thing he was capable of anyway. Renoldo looked at her like she was crazy, but she pretended not to notice.

Emily peeked at the couch. She didn’t see a head popping up over the sofa, which was a good sign. Lucky had to be laying down, if he was there. She noticed that the TV was blaring, and a chorus was singing an oldies song. She tiptoed over to the couch, holding her breath.

Instead of finding Lucky asleep, or staring blindly at the television, he was laying with his hands behind his head, singing along. She nearly lost her grip on her doggie bag, she was so startled. “Oh!” She cried, grabbing the edge of the box.

Lucky whipped around, his face crimson as he saw her standing there. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” Emily said, smiling awkwardly. “Um...” Although she’d started to fill the silence, she couldn’t think of anything to follow it up with.

“Did you have a nice lunch?” Lucky asked, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t expect you to be back for a while yet.”

“Oh, I’d already eaten something--we were supposed to just get something to drink but Monica convinced me to get some appetizers and I couldn’t finish them.” Emily held up the box. “I have almost all of Kelly’s Sampler inside, if you want it.”

Lucky nodded eagerly. “Sounds good. I’m starving.”

Emily tried to smother her surprise but busying herself with setting the food down on the coffee table and retrieving napkins. “So...you must be feeling better,” She suggested, her mind reeling from him singing and having an appetite.

“Sort of. I just...well, I turned on the TV and there’s a movie on that I haven’t seen in years. I guess it’s having an effect on my mood.”

“Oh.” Emily had thought Liz had relented, and they were back to coupledom by now. She wondered what this meant. Was Lucky actually capable of happiness without Liz?

Lucky seemed to read her expression. “It has nothing to do with Liz, you know,” He said. “She still won’t talk to me, but I’m willing to wait. I’m sure she’ll get over her guilt and then I’ll be here. It doesn’t do

any good for me to mope around here in the meantime.” Emily looked down at the remote she had in her hands. “Um, Lucky? Have you ever thought that maybe it’s more than just a little guilt---”

“Shhhh! This is a good part,” Lucky said, gesturing to the screen, oblivious to the huge confession Emily had been about to make.

Emily looked at the screen. The little girl looked vaguely familiar. Then Dan Ackroyd appeared on the screen, with Jamie Lee Curtis beside him. “Is this My Girl?” Emily asked, naming off a movie she hadn’t seen since she was nine.

“Yeah. I used to love this movie.”

“We,” Emily corrected him softly. He looked at her questioningly. “We used to love this movie,” Emily said. “Remember? We rented it for my ninth birthday party, when it first came out.”

Lucky nodded, but didn’t give any clue that he actually did remember. He turned back to the screen. She sat, stiff in her chair, while he helped himself to the stuffed mushrooms and French fries and laughed out loud at some of the jokes.

Emily didn’t remember much about the movie, but she recalled the part where the two kids experiment by kissing each other. When it got to that part, she squirmed in her chair. She remembered how they’d once laughed that part off, unable to imagine themselves ever suggesting to do such a thing.

“That’s so cute,” Lucky said.

“What is?” Emily asked, willing the color in her cheeks to go down.

“That whole scene,” Lucky said vaguely.

“Oh. Yeah.” Emily curled up in the chair. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s such an accurate representation of kids that age, but--”

“What do you mean?” Lucky asked, glancing at her.

“I mean, I don’t know if kids really think about kissing at that age,” Emily said, wishing she hadn’t said anything. Now she felt really embarrassed.

“You mean you didn’t?” Lucky asked, staring at her questioningly.

Emily shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know, Lucky. I don’t think I did.” She couldn’t help a nervous giggle. “I mean, who was there around for me to--” She stopped abruptly. “Uh...I just mean that I don’t think I ever considered it.”

“Hmmm.” Lucky changed positions on the couch. He was closer to her now, facing her. “I remember how we used to talk about that part--you always laughed about it, saying it was so gross. If you hadn’t of spoken first, and said it was gross, I probably would have done it.”

“Done what?” She was sure her face was on fire, and her heartbeat was surging.

“Kissed you.”

“Oh, really,” Emily said, it sounding more strangled than real words.

“Yeah, really.” Lucky laughed, and shifted back so that he was facing the screen again. “I was a really strange little kid, huh?”

No, you weren’t, Emily wanted to say. You were smart, you knew what you felt then. You didn’t wait until you were fifteen, and all that childish romantic curiosity conjured itself into something much deeper. She closed her eyes. If only she were brave enough to say something!

Emily laughed out loud at the next scene. Lucky glanced over at her, as if surprised by her presence. She looked back, her lips still parted in a wide laughter smile. For a minute their eyes locked and the air felt charged. Her heart started to hammer in her heart, and she crazily wondered what he was thinking.

He turned back to the screen, and Emily felt vaguely disappointed. But she lost herself in the movie, and she even felt her eyes welling up when the little boy was stung by bees to death.

Lucky must have sensed that she was crying, because she hadn’t made a sound. He turned to her. “I knew you’d cry at that,” He said.

“It’s sad,” Emily said defensively, wiping her eyes. “I mean, that little girl is so young. That was her best friend. It’s a horrible thing, to lose a friend. I mean, like that.” She wondered if he noticed the accidental link to their own lost friendship.

“You’ve seen the end. You know that she ends up making friends with that other little girl and lives happily ever after,” Lucky protested, rolling his eyes.

“That doesn’t make it all right that her first friend died!” Emily cried. “And she’s still going to be scarred for life because of it. Making a new friend doesn’t repair damage, Lucky--” She stopped herself before it got to personal. Already she regretted all of her comments.

Lucky shrugged and turned back to the movie. “I didn’t know you were so involved in the movie,” He said tersely.

“I’m not,” Emily said, willing her voice to be flippant and unconcerned. “I just hate it when we don’t see eye to eye.”

“I guess we haven’t been doing much of that lately,” Lucky allowed.

“No. We’ve been arguing about just about everything, actually,” Emily said, laughing. “Robin and Carly and Michael, staying here, now a movie--what next?”

“Hopefully nothing,” Lucky said, looking at her again in that way that always affected her. “I hate disagreeing with you, Em.”

“I prefer it when you agree with me,” Emily said, trying to keep it light. “Especially since I am always right.”

Lucky rolled his eyes. “Okay, somebody’s gotten a big ego lately!”

Emily giggled. “I was joking.”

“I know, Em. I can tell when you’re joking.” He gave her a warm look. “I know you well enough for that, don’t I?”

“Yes, you do.” Emily looked away, enjoying feeling the heat of his gaze on her face. Suddenly it felt like old times, as if no time had passed except time spent together, and the only jokes in the world were ones they shared.

Chapter 13:

Emily made a face at the small yellow stain on her blouse and sighed. There was no way that mustard baby food was going to come out of her shirt. She took it off and threw it back in the closet.

Emily turned around and rifled through her closet. She settled on a black tank top, and pulled it off the hanger mechanically.

The door opened so suddenly Emily barely had time to react. Her hands, the tank top in them, flew up to cover her exposed upper torso. She held the shirt up, staring wide-eyed at her intruder. She hadn’t even had enough time to cry out.

Lucky stared back at her, taking in the small top stretched out in front of her. A dark red stain crept over his face. “I’m sorry,” He said, retreating bashfully.

Emily took a deep breath when he closed the door. She quickly pulled the shirt over her head and opened her door. Lucky was leaning against the hallway wall, his eyes clenched shut. They popped open when she appeared in the doorway. “I’m dressed now,” Emily said, stating the obvious. “Just, um, it’s probably a good idea to knock next time.” She felt vaguely uncomfortable, and couldn’t help but cross her arms over her chest. “So...what were you going to ask me?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Lucky seemed relieved to change the subject. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve been cooped up in this apartment way too long. I wondered if you wanted to go see a movie or whatever. You know, just to get out.”

Emily looked at him, trying to figure out what the motive behind it was. Was he being honest, and just wanted to get out? She remembered the afternoon a few prior, when they’d watched the movie together, and how she’d interpreted some of his looks. Could this “outing” be more of a date?

“It doesn’t matter what movie we see,” Lucky added, misinterpreting her silence. “I’d rather not see a sappy romance, but I trust your judgment.”

Emily smiled. “Thanks.” She moved back into her room and reached for the stack of magazines she had on her nightstand. “Hold on a second--they profiled this really good movie that I wanted to see. Let me find it.” While she thumbed through the magazine, Lucky was looking around the room. For a panic-filled moment Emily wondered if she’d left any unmentionables lying around. A quick peak around her assured her nothing potentially embarrassing was in view.

“I didn’t know you had so many clothes,” Lucky observed.

“Oh, most of that is from shoots,” Emily said, glancing up as he walked over to her closet and rifled through the hangers. “I didn’t bring much here to begin with, but I got some at the layout and Monica brought a bag of stuff for me.”

“Hmm.” Lucky moved on to her bedstand, picking up the things heaped on top. “Is this what I think it is?” He asked, holding up a small, nondescript leather book.

Emily’s heart leapt to her throat and her hands froze in mid-page turn. That was her journal--the one that kept all details of her feelings for Lucky. She lunged for it, panicked he’d look inside. It wasn’t padlocked.

Lucky looked startled as she dove for it. She grabbed it easily out of his hand--he was barely holding onto it. He stared at her, amazed. “You must have something really juicy in there to be so protective,” He observed. “What is it?”

Emily held the journal underneath the magazine, still turning pages to find the movie review section. “Well...if I told you it wouldn’t be a secret,” She said, trying to sound coy and unconcerned. “So, um, I think I found the movie review. It’s on one of these pages...”

“Nice way to change the subject,” Lucky said dryly, watching her continue to scramble for the page.

“Here it is.” Emily pointed to it, holding it for him to see. “Doesn’t it sound good?”

Lucky nodded after he’d skimmed the article. “Sounds good to me. So, is tonight okay with you?”

“Sure,” Emily agreed. Suddenly she frowned. Without warning, something Robin had said at lunch, just before Michael spit up on her blouse, came back to her. ‘I saw Nikolas this morning while I was meeting Brenda for an early breakfast, and he mentioned seeing you,’ She’d told Emily. ‘He sounded so depressed. I asked him what was bothering him, and he said he’d just found out that his uncle was keeping secrets from him. He wouldn’t tell me what. Do you know what he was talking about, Emily?’

Emily had shook her head no, and then been distracted by Michael. She hadn’t thought about it until now. But she couldn’t help wondering if Nikolas was all right. She knew all too well the betrayed feeling of having loved ones keep important details from you. She briefly wondered if she should give him a call.

“I have to make a phone call,” Emily announced, so suddenly it startled Lucky and he nearly dropped the small object he was holding.

“Oh.” Lucky set it down gently and moved toward the door. “I guess you want some privacy for your phone call. Tell Monica I said hi.”

Emily decided it was better if he thought she was calling her family instead of his half-brother. “Check the show times for that movie, all right?”

Lucky nodded and walked down the hallway. Emily walked over to her bag and took out her address book. She blushed as she took in the hearts and flowers drawn on the “C” page and the single address listed: “Prince Nikolas”. She’d been so silly to fall for Nikolas. That girlish crush seemed so long ago now.

Still, Emily was nervous as she picked up the phone. She quickly dialed the phone number, reminding herself she’d called him a hundred times before, when she’d been coaching him how to speak. This was no different--not much, anyway.

She asked Mrs. Lansbury for Nikolas, and waited for Nikolas to pick up his extension. He answered, his voice sounding a little funny. “Hello?” He asked.

“Hi,” Emily said brightly.

“Emily,” Nikolas said, recognizing her voice--although he sounded almost...dopey. His voice was just so mellow and blah. It didn’t sound much like him.

“I, um, noticed you were a little preoccupied when we met at Kelly’s,” She rushed to say. “I wondered if there was something bugging you...I thought maybe we could talk. If you’re busy, I understand and maybe we can talk some other time--”

Nikolas was slow to interrupt her. He seemed to clear his throat for a whole minute, then said,” I’d like to talk, Emily. I always like talking to you.”

Emily felt flattered. “Well, thank you,” She said. “It’s just that I’ve been having problems with my family and Robin mentioned something about yours.”

To her surprise, Nikolas laughed. And not really a laugh--more of a giggle. Her eyes widened.

“Nikolas?” She asked.

“I’m here,” He said, still laughing that high-pitched giggle. “I’m sorry. You just sounded funny.”

“What did I say that was funny?” Emily asked, racking her brain.

“I don’t know,” Nikolas said, suddenly sounding confused.

Emily was silent a moment as a thought fleeted through her mind. Nikolas sounded strange...almost...not himself. That was all too familiar, what with Alan and his prescription pill highs, A.J.’s boozing days, and her own experiences with Matt and that crowd. But this was Nikolas. He couldn’t be--

Nikolas laughed again, and something clicked in Emily’s mind.

“Nikolas,” She asked tentatively. “Have you been...drinking?”

Chapter 14:

There was an uncomfortably long silence, and Emily shifted the receiver nervously. She hadn’t meant to offend him, but he was acting much too strange to be himself.

Finally, he sighed deeply. “Yes.”

“You’ve been drinking? Where? How?” Emily hadn’t meant to ask a dozen questions, but she couldn’t imagine Nikolas getting drunk. He’d never seemed like the type. Then again, Emily thought, ashamed of herself, maybe nobody else thought I was the type to experiment with drugs.

“My uncle has a liquor cabinet,” Nikolas admitted, sounding a little more like himself. “Oops. Did I say, ‘my uncle’? I meant ‘daddy dearest’.” He laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

“What are you talking about?” Emily asked. Was Nikolas so out of it he couldn’t even think straight?

“My uncle is my father,” Nikolas jabbered. “I guess you can just pick whichever relation you want to be when you’re rich and mysterious and don’t care about anybody else.”

“You’re not making sense,” Emily said, feeling her forehead wrinkle in confusion.

“My mother, Laura, lied to me. My uncle...my father...lied to me. All this time, he knew I was his kid but he was too ashamed of me to admit it.”

“He told you this?”

“He’s been hiding it for seventeen years. He probably believes it true by now,” Nikolas said scornfully. “No--Luke told me.”

“How did he know?”

“He didn’t say how he knew. I suspected that something was amiss for a while--did you know that my cousin is really my aunt?”

“Nikolas...maybe you should get some water,” Emily said, thinking quickly. Nikolas was completely intoxicated, and obviously believed whatever gibberish he was saying. She tried to remember what she’d heard from A.J. and picked up from his years of boozing. She recalled that the only real solution was giving it time, but A.J. had always drank a lot of water too.

“I’m not thirsty,” Nikolas whined. “If I was, I have a whole other bottle of liquor, and I could drink that.”

“No, Nikolas. I think you’ve had enough already.”

“You don’t get it, do you? Everyone lies to me, pretends to be people they’re not, denies it when I confront them. My own father and aunt were too ashamed of me to admit they’re directly related to me!” He paused. “I have to get out of here.”

“No!” Emily cried, her mind racing. “Nikolas, you can’t go anywhere!”

“Why not?” Nikolas demanded. He sounded violently angry at her for telling him what to do.

Emily thought quickly. “Because...well, because I need your advice. I’m in sort of a predicament and you’re the only person I could talk to,” She improvised.

“About what?” Nikolas asked. He sounded suspicious, but at least he wasn’t talking about running away.

“Um...Lucky.” He was the first person that popped into Emily’s mind, and she winced. Not only did Nikolas hate him, but talking about him might lead to her confessing how she felt about him. “And Liz,” She added hurriedly.

“What about them?” Nikolas’ speech was slurred slightly.

“They had a fight,” Emily said truthfully,” and it was sort of my fault. Liz was upset because I knew what happened---”

“Oh, she told you too?” Nikolas interrupted. “I thought she was keeping that a secret.”

Emily made a face at the wall. Was Nikolas going to blabber nonsense the whole conversation?

“It’s not exactly the kind of thing you publicize,” Nikolas went on. “I only found out when I saw her at the support group a couple months ago--and she swore me to secrecy.”

“She’s in a support group?” Emily hadn’t a clue what Nikolas was talking about, but decided to humor him.

“Yeah. I was waiting for somebody right outside and there she was, coming out of the Rape Survivors Support Group. I pretended not to see her but she saw me and--”

“What?” Emily burst out.

“Wait. You knew about that, right?” Nikolas asked, and then giggled again. “If you didn’t, I just broke my promise to her that I wouldn’t tell.” He switched from giggling to anxious in a matter of seconds.

Emily’s mind was going too fast for her. Nikolas couldn’t be right. He was drunk, after all. He was just making this up. Right?

Emily’s breathing came in jagged gulps and she let the receiver fall to the floor. He had to be wrong. There was no way he could be right--Liz couldn’t have been raped.

She heard a noise and absently picked up the phone. “Emily?” Nikolas asked tentatively. “Em. I promised not to tell anybody, and then she thanked me when I saw her at Mac and Felicia’s wedding. Lucky even thanked me too. And now I told.” He sounded mournful, but Emily barely noticed.

What was it Lucky had said a few nights ago? She’d been talking about helping Nikolas speak, and Lucky had said, ‘I wouldn’t know. Liz and I talked to him at the wedding, and he barely said a word.’ Emily’s eyes widened as she remembered asking him, amazed, what he possibly had talked to Nikolas about. Lucky had clamed up and said it was personal. That meant only one thing--Nikolas wasn’t drunkenly jabbering. He was speaking the truth.

Emily closed her eyes and heard the conversation over again, only this time it was much more painful and she saw the full extent of what she’d done.

‘He wouldn’t say anything... I seriously doubt he’d tell you anything really private, but--’

‘Lucky tells me everything, Liz. Everything. He has looser lips than you think.’

‘No, no. He couldn’t. He said he wouldn’t say anything--’

Emily’s shoulders began to tremble, and gradually she noticed that her breathing was shaky and tearful. Over and over, she heard Liz’s tear-stricken voice, ‘How could he?’

Haunting her, that comment...that pain in her voice. That pain that she had caused when she brought up the horrible nightmare that had happened to Liz. What had she done?

Chapter 15:

Emily trembled slightly as she picked up the receiver and placed it next to her ear. “Nikolas, I have to go,” She said numbly.

“Okay,” Nikolas muttered.

Emily winced. As if she weren’t enormously plagued by overwhelming guilt, now she was hanging up on a totally intoxicated guy? She recalled how A.J. had always been so sick and defenseless when he was intoxicated. She didn’t think she could look herself in the mirror if she didn’t help Nikolas through it.

Not that I’ll be able to look at myself after that, Emily thought, trying to push away the thoughts of Liz. She felt almost sick over the whole situation, but she figured she had to deal with Nikolas first. And hanging up the phone wasn’t the answer.

“I’m going to come over,” Emily said, throwing herself into helpful friend mode. “Sit tight, okay?”

“Okay,” Nikolas repeated dumbly.

Emily sighed and hung up the phone. Glancing around her room, she managed to drag herself up off the end of her bed and grab a sweatshirt just in case it was cold on the way home. She slunk down the stairs to find Robin, Jason, Michael and Lucky sitting on the couches.

“Hey!” Lucky greeted her happily.

Emily’s heart lurched.

“The next showing is six o’clock,” Lucky informed her. “Or do you want to catch the eight o’clock instead?”

“I, uh, have to go somewhere,” Emily said meekly. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“OK, so we’ll figure out the times when you get back,” Lucky said agreeably.

Emily was relieved he was so nice about the uncertain plans, but that didn’t ward off the feelings of dread. How would he act toward her when he found out how she’d tormented his girlfriend?

“So...I’ll be back later,” Emily told Jason and Robin, who’d been politely focusing on the TV instead of their conversation. “‘Bye.”

“See you later,” Robin called back, and Jason chimed in with a good-bye.

Emily headed out the door and one of Jason’s men gave her a lift to Wyndemere. Ignoring the surprised look on Mrs. Lansbury’s face, she asked where Nikolas was. “I imagine up in his room,” Was her reply.

Obviously Mrs. Lansbury had no clue what Nikolas had been up to all evening. She found Nikolas in his bedroom, lying on the floor clutching a gold trimmed garbage tin. She walked over slowly and tried not to think about what she was getting herself into this evening.

Hours later, Emily leaned over Nikolas to make sure he was sleeping peacefully. Surveying the room, she felt satisfied that they’d cleaned his clothing, the wastepaper basket and gotten him into his pajamas so that nothing looked amiss. She poured out the rest of the alcohol down the sink and checked his room to make sure he hadn’t hidden any more anywhere.

Emily tiptoed out of the room carefully, and slipped out the front door. She knew she should go back to the penthouse, since they’d be expecting her, but she couldn’t will her feet to move in that direction.

Instead she found herself in the park. She’d taken Michael to this part of the part a lot, and he always liked the baby swing. Emily sat in a regular swing, dangling her feet. She twisted an arm around the links, running her finger along the smooth metal. She leaned her head against it, wishing the coolness of it was enough to stop the spinning of her head.

She’d managed to push away the horrible thoughts while she was tending to Nikolas. But now they were eating away at her. It wasn’t that she felt guilty or ashamed...she just felt plain rotten. Her stomach felt twisted in knots and she felt vaguely ill. It wasn’t just what she’d done...it was everything. It was the fact that someone her age had been raped and it was one of the things her brain couldn’t even comprehend.

Emily squeezed her eyes shut. Had she been grabbed from behind while walking home from school? Or maybe at a party, and some idiot didn’t listen when she said, ‘no’? And had she screamed and cried and tried to break free? Had she thought that she was going to die right then and there? And did she lay awake at night and wonder how much easier it would have been if she had?

Emily opened her eyes. As much as she tried, she couldn’t imagine it. She had no way of imagining the pain and anguish of being violated that way. She knew how it felt to lose someone she loved, and be betrayed by someone she’d trusted. But she didn’t know abuse or violence.

Emily pumped gently on the swing. She thought back to all the miserable nights when she’d laid awake in the Quartermaine house and wished on every star in the sky Lucky would be her friend again. She wondered if he’d been with Liz those nights. She hoped he had been. She knew all too well what a good protector Lucky was, and how loyal. She didn’t deserve that wonderful friendship. Liz needed it.

All around her dusk was starting to fall, but Emily didn’t notice. She swung harder, kicking up her feet and remembering when she used to swing with Lucky when they were kids. Funny how everything had been so clear and obvious. When they swung on a swing, it was just to have fun. She never would have cried on the swing because she’d never know the anguish of a girl she’d once hated.

And she never would have swung until it grew dark and cold, and then not known where home was.

Chapter 16

Emily shifted, feeling her feet tangle in the blankets. She closed her eyes, willing herself to fall back asleep. It was useless. She wasn’t tired, but she didn’t have the energy to get up out of bed.

There was a light rap on the door, and then it creaked slowly open. Lucky peeked through the crack, and his eyes widened to find her still in bed. “Emily?” He asked incredulously. “Do you know what time it is?”

Emily yawned. “I don’t know...eleven o’clock?”

“No. It’s almost one o’clock in the afternoon.”

“One o’clock? Really?” There was a time when Emily would have been ashamed of herself for sleeping in all morning and into the afternoon. But now she just said it, mildly surprised that she hadn’t been awoken by Michael’s crying.

“You did get in pretty late,” Lucky observed.

“Yeah.” Emily rolled over, wishing he’d drop it. She knew what he was going to say, and didn’t feel like hearing it. He’d already said it in just a look when she’d come in at about ten o’clock the night before.

“I thought we were going to a movie,” Lucky said coolly. “Did you forget?”

“I don’t know.” Emily pulled the sheet up to her chin, glad she was facing away from him. “I mean, I didn’t really forget. I just was...busy. And I figured you would understand. We can do it another time, right?”

“I guess. If you plan to actually show up for it or whatever.”

“We hadn’t even decided the time, Lucky,” Emily said irritably. “Don’t act like I stood you up. I told you I wasn’t sure when I’d be home.”

“What was so important that you had to rush out, anyway?” Lucky asked, sounding annoyed. “Or are you being mysterious about it on purpose?”

“I didn’t think I had to run my plans by you,” Emily snapped, knowing she was being ridiculous, but couldn’t help it.

“You don’t. Unless they mean breaking plans with me. Then you could have the decency to run it by me, let me know, whatever.”

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I wouldn’t be able to go see a movie with you.”

“Okay. Then you’re forgiven. That’s all you had to say.”

“Okay.” Emily waited for him to leave.

He was waiting too. “You’re not going to sleep all day, are you?”

“Lucky, please...I’m very tired.” Emily continued to face away from him. She didn’t want him to see her without any makeup, in her ratty nightshirt. And she knew she probably had shockingly black circles under her eyes, since she’d tossed and turned all night and had forgotten to wipe off the mascara traces before she’d went to bed.

“Em...are you feeling all right?”

Lucky’s concern was so real it broke her heart. She wanted him to go away. Actually, she wanted to throw herself into his arms and tell him everything and beg him to love her anyway, despite what she’d done. But she knew she didn’t deserve any of his forgiveness or concern. She lay very still.

“Emily. Come on, you’ve got to get out of bed.” Lucky’s hands reached over and grasped her upper arm, turning her toward him. He fumbled for her waist and pulled her toward his side of the bed.

“No--Lucky no, please--” Emily cried, turning her face away. She’d felt the sheen of fresh tears popping into her eyes, and was desperately trying to force them back.

Lucky continued like it was a game. He turned her head toward him, and stopped dead when he saw her face. “Emily,” He said quietly. “What’s wrong?”

Emily’s face crumpled, and Lucky’s arms were around her in a second. “I’m so sorry. Was it something I said?” He asked gently.

His sweet tone only made the tears hotter and less easy to hold back. “No, it wasn’t you,” She choked out. The awkward embrace was both wonderful and awful. Wonderful because she’d dreamed about him holding her like this for such a long time, and awful because she knew those arms would drop in a second if she told him what she’d done.

Emily couldn’t handle it. She pushed out of his arms and out of bed. He left when she asked him to, and she quickly dressed and told him she was leaving. She spoke in such a cool tone he must have known something was wrong, but he didn’t ask.

Emily didn’t know where she was headed until she got there. She stood on the steps of the Quartermaine house uncertainly, then pushed inside. Monica saw her and did a double take, but she must have noticed the circles under Emily’s eyes and the expression on her face, because she didn’t say anything.

Emily ran up the stairs and locked her bedroom door. She looked around the room, breathing in the familiar smell and taking in the wonderfully comfortable sight. She flopped into her large bed, inhaling the smell of the sheets--even the fabric softener smelled like home. She hugged her stuffed animals. She felt silly, but it was comforting at the same time.

Emily closed her eyes and leaned backward onto the mound of soft pillows. She wasn’t sleepy...just relaxed. She knew she couldn’t stay there long or Monica would come in to ask questions, and she might bump into Alan. Besides, Robin might wonder where she’d gone, and Lucky might think something was seriously wrong.

Emily enjoyed the feeling of safety and comfort. It was like the past few weeks had never happened, and she was still blithely bopping around town without a care in the world.

But the feeling faded, and Emily knew she couldn’t pretend to any more than she actually could go back in time. She had to face up to the truth of what she now knew, and what she’d done.

And she had to decide what to do about it.

Chapter 17:

Emily stood on the doorstep, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her fingers were trembling so much that it was difficult to push the doorbell. She’d been calm the whole walk over, but was suddenly panicked. She didn’t even know why she was there.

Liz opened the door. She was dressed in baggy track pants and a silver tank top, her hair pulled back in a silver headband. She looked casual, so relaxed Emily thought maybe she shouldn’t break the serene moment.

From the expression on Liz’s face, Emily guessed she already had. “What do you want?” Liz asked, her tone slightly hostile.

“I have to talk to you,” Emily said meekly.

“I think we talked enough,” Liz said, running her thumb along the edge of the door. She moved to close it slightly, as a general hint for Emily to leave. And for a minute Emily almost backed off and walked away.

“No. I think there’s a lot we still need to discuss,” Emily said firmly and forcefully.

Liz shifted uncomfortably. “Like what?”

“May I come in?” Emily asked. She wasn’t trying to be rude; she just figured what she had in her head wasn’t the kind of conversation you had at your front door.

“I guess.” Liz backed up and Emily hurried inside. She realized she hadn’t ever been inside the Webber home. It was quaint, like a little cottage.

“How is your grandmother?” Emily inquired politely.

“She’s fine. She’s on shift at the hospital right now.” Liz eyed her, suspicious.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” Emily ventured, unsure where to start.

“Yeah, I am.” Liz sat down in one of the cozy chairs, curling up in it.

Emily chose the end of the couch closest to the chair. “I made a big mistake last week. I talked to you when I didn’t know the whole story. I’m very sorry.”

Liz looked away, her eyes unreadable.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me or anything,” Emily hurried to add. “I mean, I’d like you to but I can understand if you can’t. Anyway, that’s not the important thing. I have to clean up some of the mess that I made, and that’s why I’m here.”

Liz looked at her questioningly.

“Liz, Lucky never told me anything,” Emily confessed. “He stumbled in the house with a stab wound and mentioned that he acquired it by you--of course I thought you stabbed him. And I hated you for it. And that’s what I was talking about when you came by the house. The stabbing.”

Liz looked confused. “So Lucky didn’t tell you the details of it?”

“No. I have no idea how he got a knife hole in him. I just assumed you did it, and I now gather that it was some sort of accident. But that’s not important. What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t have any personal information about you, and if I had I never would have spoken like that.”

Looking like she was trying to process all of this, Liz bit her lower lip. “Let me see if I got this straight. You were accusing me of stabbing Lucky, and that’s all?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t know about anything else?”

Emily shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”

“But you do now.” Liz’s voice was low.

Emily wished she was a better liar. As it was, she was forced to tell the truth. “Yes. I do.”

“So you know about the rape.” The statement was so plainspoken they could have been talking about a run in her nylons or a bad homework grade.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to find out, and I certainly never meant to hurt you.”

“How did you find out?” Liz asked, her tone still very quiet and low.

“Lucky didn’t tell me, Liz,” Emily said, edging the question. “I know you don’t know me very well, so you wouldn’t be able to tell when I’m lying. But I’ll admit I’m a horrible liar. My lower lip twitches and I can’t look people straight in the eye.” Emily looked at Liz steadily. “On everything holy, Lucky didn’t tell your secret.”

“Does he know what happened?”

“He thinks you’re so guilty about the stabbing that you can’t look him in the eye,” Emily said helplessly. “I let him think that.”

Liz’s lip curved up slightly. “That’s what he thinks happened? No wonder he’s been leaving messages on the machine telling me how good he’s healing. I thought he was crazy!”

Emily let out a nervous laugh. “I have something else to tell you,” She said.

“What?” Liz asked cautiously.

“I’m sorry about everything that’s happened to you. And I feel horrible about the things I said at Jason’s penthouse--even my ignorance doesn’t make up for it. And I know about what happened to you, but I swear I won’t tell a soul. What’s more, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me because of it. If you want me to never mention it again, I’ll drop it. But if you ever need somebody to talk to, I’ll be here.” Emily was surprised at how easily the words slipped out.

Liz looked surprised, too. “Well, to be honest, it’s not easy for me to have you know about it. I thought I’d keep it secret forever--but somehow I found all of Lucky’s family and others finding out about it, too. It’s not something I want to share, but if the damage is done I have to deal with that.” She looked at Emily. “Thank you for your offer. I’ll have to take it one day at a time--but I’ll keep that in the back of my mind. Just in case I really feel low and need someone to talk to.”

“And Lucky’s not around,” Emily added.

Liz looked at the edge of the chair. “Yeah, well, that’s complicated. I freaked out on him last week--I can’t imagine what I’m going to say to him now.”

“Just say I was a jerk and lied to you,” Emily said, wincing. “It’s the truth.”

“No. I think I’ll tell him that I’m over my guilt,” Liz said after a long pause. “Which I am--almost, anyway. There’s really no need to drag out all the gory details.”

Liz looked at her reassuringly. “Lucky’s told me about your friendship. You’re really important to him, and I am pretty sure the feeling is mutual. I don’t intend to wreck that over a misunderstanding.”

Emily smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Liz,” She said, and stood up. “Well, I know for a fact that Lucky’s at the penthouse now, in case you want to come with me.”

“I think I’ll freshen up first, and collect my thoughts,” Liz said, running her fingers through her hair. “But I’ll be over in a little while. So I’ll see you later.”

“See you,” Emily said, closing the front door behind her.

That had been difficult for Emily, but she was amazed at how well it had gone. She saw Liz in a different light now. And she still resented her a little and didn’t think they’d become best buddies anytime soon, but she felt she’d made a start. She’d done the right thing by mending fences, even if it meant her heart breaking when Liz and Lucky inevitably got back together.