I feel weak with relief, but at the same time I’m tense. I know I have one shot to explain, to make her understand, and I have to get it right. Even though there’s no getting anything with Emma’s fucked-up situation right. It was always all wrong. On every level.

I look out the window at the night sky as I speak. I can’t look at Jacey’s face… it might kill me to see her reaction. There’s no way I want to see her face when she hears what I did. Who I was. How I acted.

“Emma and I grew up together,” I begin. “She was always at my house, with Kira, playing with Duncan, Sin, Fiona, and me. We were all like family.”

“Until you started dating,” Jacey interrupts. I smile, just a little, at the memory of my first date with Emma.

“Yeah. Our first date was an accident… when we were sophomores. Her car died on our road. I was on my way out, so I picked her up and took her with me. I was driving my dad’s old classic Nova… and it had a cassette tape stuck in the deck. If we wanted to listen to anything, our only choice was “Brown Eyed Girl.” We probably listened to that song fifty times that night… but it turned out all right because the night ended with a goodnight kiss. All of a sudden, we realized that we didn’t feel like brother and sister anymore.”

Jacey stares at me, a knowing look in her eyes. “That’s how you knew about Brand. You recognized it because that’s what happened with you and Emma.”

I nod.

“We dated all through high school. No one said our names separately… we were like one person, Dom-and-Emma. But then, my senior year…”

My voice trails off as pain rips through me. Memories are so vivid, so fucking vivid, and I close my eyes against them.

The blood, the pain in Emma’s eyes. The guilt, Jesus Christ, the guilt.

My spine feels like it’s being ripped out of my body at the mere memory.

I swallow hard, then swallow again. Jacey waits patiently, but I can feel her watching me, wondering if I’m going to be able to do it.

“Emma killed herself because of me,” I finally manage to say thickly, and my tongue feels like a dead thing in my mouth.

All the blood, her blood, swims in front of my eyes, and for a moment I only see red. I’m starting to wonder if it’s the only color I’m ever going to see.

Jacey gasps a ragged breath and her eyes widen. “Oh my god. Jesus, Dominic.” She takes another breath. “What happened?”

I try to make myself numb, like I always do when I think about this, about Emma.

I reach into my pocket, turning the aquamarine pendant over and over in my fingers. Like always, knowing that she used to wear it around her neck when she was still healthy and alive calms me down enough so I can speak.

“Does it matter?” I finally answer. “The important thing is that she did. And it was my fault.”

Jacey stares at me, her eyes still horror filled, but now there’s something else too. Curiosity. A need to know. A need to understand. And beneath all that, a hope that I’m wrong—that I’m not to blame.

But I am.

“I can’t imagine how it was your fault,” she answers slowly. “Suicide is a personal choice. You couldn’t have made her do such a thing. But if you think that’s true, then we need to talk about it, because it has definitely affected you.”

I squeeze my eyes shut hard, trying to blink away the red, then take another breath.

“Emma cheated on me with Cris. She told me about it and she cried. She was so sorry. Apparently, they got drunk one night when I was out with other friends. One thing led to another, and they had sex. She was sorry and I was devastated.”

Jacey freezes now, her eyes glued to mine. “That’s why you hate Cris now.”

I nod silently.

Jacey stares at me a second, then speaks hesitantly. “Okay. I can see where you would be pissed at him. But to this degree? You were kids, Dom. I mean, you were teenagers. Even adults make that mistake.”

“I know.” I sigh. “But Emma got pregnant, Jacey. And since we always used condoms, we had a pretty good idea that the baby was Cris’s.”

I look away. “I remember standing over a pile of pregnancy tests in Emma’s bathroom, all of them showing a fuzzy pink plus sign. If I could go back in time to any one moment, it would be to that one. I would handle everything differently.”

I wouldn’t have annihilated her.

Jacey sucks in her breath, her hands twisted in her lap. “Jesus. I don’t know what to say, Dom. What happened?”

I failed her.

“I was so pissed at her,” I admit. “I screamed and she cried, but at the end of the day, it boiled down to one thing. I loved her. More than anything. More than a pregnancy, more than her cheating on me.”

“So you stayed with her?” Jacey asks hesitantly. I can see that that notion doesn’t match the idea of me that lives in her head. That’s because that version of me died with Emma.

“She swore to me that it was a one-time thing, an accident. That she’d been lonely because I’d been away so much, visiting colleges. I’d pulled away from her a little and Cris moved in. He took up my slack and hung out with her all the time. I should’ve seen what he was doing, but I didn’t. He was my best friend and I was blind.”

“So you think it was your fault that Emma cheated on you?” Jacey asks doubtfully.

I ignore that and take a gulp of water. “Because I could see that it was true, that Cris had swooped in on her and I’d been neglecting her, I forgave her. He took advantage of her. And they were drunk. But I demanded one thing from her in exchange for my forgiveness.”

I pause, staring out the window again as I remember the way Emma’s head had dropped when I told her. How I’d stood over her and how I didn’t feel sorry about what I was asking. I didn’t care that it devastated her. I didn’t care about anything but myself and my own pain.

I hadn’t even begun to know pain yet. I just didn’t know it at the time.

I don’t want to say the ugly words to Jacey. I don’t want her to know. But she prompts me.

“What did you demand?” she asks quietly, but there’s a certain knowingness to her tone, an aching fragile timbre. She knows.

“An abortion. I demanded that she have an abortion. I wasn’t man enough to raise his baby. I forgave her, but I couldn’t do that.”

Jacey’s quiet now, still. She watches me, waiting for me to continue. I don’t want to, but I know I have to. The bullet is out of the gun now. There’s no putting it back.

“We were just eighteen,” I say quietly, staring at the wall. “We were getting ready to go away to college together. We were going to have a new start, away from Cris. I made my forgiveness contingent on that one thing. She had to get an abortion. If she wouldn’t, then I was done. I made that very clear.”

Emma’s face is in my head, innocent and young, as she pleads with me.

Dominic, I can’t, she’d cried. My parents would kill me. And it’s wrong, Dom. It’s wrong.

“I pressured her hard,” I finally continue, even though those words are a gross understatement. “Every day. Every hour. She cried and I raged and I refused to give in. I didn’t care that her family was strict Catholic. I didn’t care that she thought her soul was in jeopardy and that her parents would never forgive her. In my head, I thought of the baby as an it, as Cris’s mistake. I didn’t think of it as an actual human life. I was too blinded by my anger and my hurt and my hate to care about anything but myself.”

I pause and stare at Jacey. “Do you see how selfish I was?”

Jacey is deathly pale as she stares at me, as a million thoughts flash through her eyes. “Anyone would’ve been upset, Dominic,” she finally answers hesitantly. I can see that she doesn’t know what to say. I can’t fault her for that… because who would?

I turn away, staring into the dark, trying to focus on the night instead of the memories in my head.