She blinked a few times and then returned to her bag, hastily stuffing everything back inside.
“I want those syringes, goddamn it. The empty ones, too. They’re a biohazard.”
I almost laughed at the irony. Only a would-be doctor would be abusing and simultaneously worry about something like that.
“Emilia, you have a problem. We need to talk about it.”
“No. You have a fucking problem. You just can’t back. The. Fuck. Off.” With that she pulled the bag closed with a loud zip, tears spilling onto her cheeks.
“I’m worried about you.”
She gave her eyes an angry swipe. “So you say.”
“I’m not lying. But this isn’t about me, this is about you. You’re using.”
“No. I am not abusing drugs. Now take me home. Now.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “We need to talk.”
She shook her head. “I’m done talking. You and I are done. You will never trust me and I will never trust you.” Her voice cut off in a sob.
“Emilia—”
“No! Take me home, Adam.”
I didn’t move and I didn’t say a word.
Muttering under her breath, she slung her bag over her shoulder and stalked down the stairs and toward the front door.
I followed closely behind. “What are you doing?”
“I’m walking.”
“That’s fifteen miles.”
“I need the exercise.”
“Emilia, stop.”
She kept walking.
“I’ll drive you,” I finally conceded. We strode next to each other across the island. It was a beautiful morning, the sun shining, a cool breeze blowing. I inhaled the pervasive, earthy scent of the Back Bay and the freshly mowed green grass, my mind racing for what to say to her. I followed her to the parking garage, the fresh outdoor scents replaced by the smell of exhaust and old oil. I swallowed, throwing a look her way. Had I completely blown this? Would she turn away my help now, if I offered it? I couldn’t force it on her.
But, there was nothing to say. She bent over her phone texting furiously the entire time. I surmised she was catching Heath up on everything. When we pulled up into her parking lot, Heath was waiting, his arms clamped over his chest like a bouncer preparing for a brawl. Emilia was out of the car almost before it stopped and Heath came up to stand in front of me while she made her getaway.
“Emilia—” I said.
She turned to me, her eyes red. “Goodbye, Adam.” And she rushed off toward the condo.
I turned to Heath, who was looking at me with pity in his face. It made me angry. I clenched my fists. “Let me go to her.”
“She doesn’t want to talk.”
“I fucked up, okay?”
“Yep. Again.” He nodded.
“I think she’s abusing drugs,” I blurted. As if that knowledge would get me a pass with him.
Heath’s brow shot up. “Why do you think that?”
“Because there are signs—the change in appearance, the behavior. I found syringes…”
Heath shook his head. “Because you went through her bag.”
I swore, ran a hand through my hair and looked away. “I saw the puncture marks on her arm! What the fuck else was I supposed to do?”
“She’s not abusing drugs. Okay? Trust me. This is not what it’s about.”
“Then what the fuck is it about?”
His gaze was icy. “It’s not for me to tell you. She was going to talk to you today, but you blew it. She doesn’t trust you, any more than you trust her. You keep fucking it up.”
I blew out a breath in frustration. “Tell me what I need to do. I need to make this up to her.”
“Back off. Stay away from her for a while. If you pull your head out of your ass, she will come to you.”
I clenched my fist again, anger coursing through me. I wanted to take a swing at him. “You said that before.”
“And she did, didn’t she? She came to you, but you fucked it up, man.”
It was hard to hear. Hard to accept, but he was right. “Fine. But you promise me—”
“I’ll take care of her. I have been taking care of her.”
I shook my head. “You’ve been doing my job.”
He looked bitter. “Yeah. I have.”
We stared each other down for a long moment.
I looked down, shaking my head. I’d betrayed her trust again. It didn’t help to explain that I’d done it in a moment of utter panic. That I couldn’t get Bree out of my mind. I took a deep, painful breath. “I’m a fucking idiot.”