Jesse
Emilee slid from her chair and crumpled to the floor. She’s been drinking that much, is obvious, but there’s something wrong. I can’t get her to look at me. It’s as if she can’t even hear me.
“Emilee!” I yell her name as I crouch down in front of her. She looks up at me slowly. She’s confused. “What happened, sweetheart?”
She shakes her head.
“She was fine until you walked in,” Callie says. “I don’t mean in a bad way. Maybe you should get her husband.”
Husband. I still can’t believe she told these people Chase was her husband. Not that he minds; he already believes she told them that because she wants it to be true. I know he wants it to be true.
“Emilee,” Her friend crouches down and grabs her face between her hands. “Snap out of it!”
Emilee’s eyes darken, her nostrils flarin
