“Look, I’m sorry about the way things worked out,” she said softly. “With… you know. That night. The hospital.” She held Thayer’s gaze, wanting him to believe her, wanting him to know Sutton didn’t mean to hurt him.
I wanted Thayer to know it, too.
Thayer’s face softened slightly. He fidgeted with the strap of the black backpack slung over his shoulder. “Look, Sutton. I’m actually not supposed to be around you.”
“I know,” Emma said quickly, suddenly nervous. She lifted a hand to shade her eyes and shifted her weight in Sutton’s flip-flops. “Laurel told me. I ruin your life every time I’m near you.”
A confused look passed over Thayer’s features. “Uh, no. I can’t be around you because your dad said so. I got a call from him this morning.” His expression darkened at the mention of Mr. Mercer. “He said that if he caught me hanging around with you or Laurel, he’d figure out how to throw me back in jail.”
Emma frowned. “Why does he hate you so much?” Thayer tilted his chin and gave Emma a weighted glance that made her feel like she’d asked a question Sutton would’ve known the answer to.
“I mean …” Emma went on, leaving a heavy pause between them, hoping Thayer would let her in on whatever he wasn’t saying. But he just looked at her meaningfully, his eyes small slits.
“I should go,” he mumbled finally, and turned toward the store. But a few paces away, he turned and looked back, running a tanned hand over the back of his neck. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.” Emma swallowed hard. A few rows over, a car alarm went off. An old man shoved an empty shopping cart into the corral. She stared at Thayer and waited for his question. She hoped she knew the answer.
Thayer looked down at his beat-up Converse. “Why didn’t you respond to my notes?”
Emma scrambled to think. When he’d referenced his notes, she’d assumed he meant the note someone had stuck on Laurel’s car, warning Emma that Sutton was dead and she needed to play along. But now she realized he must have meant something else.
“I emailed you and emailed you,” Thayer continued.
“But you never wrote back. Was it because of the accident?
Because I broke my leg and wouldn’t be Mr. Athlete anymore?”
“It’s not like that at all,” Emma said softly.
“Of course it’s not,” I whispered along.
Emma’s mind raced, putting together the pieces of what Thayer was saying. Sutton and Thayer did have some sort of secret email correspondence. Of course Sutton wouldn’t have written to him after the last night they saw each other—she was dead. And naturally, when Emma took Sutton’s place, she wouldn’t have known what that covert email address was. “I’m sorry I didn’t contact you,” Emma said. “I would have, if …”
“Save it,” Thayer interrupted. He shrugged a shoulder and raised his glance to give her a long stare. “I missed you, Sutton. And I was so angry when you cut me out of your life. You were the only person who understood me. But now you’re acting like you don’t know who I am. I came to your room that night because I wanted to tell you the truth about where I’ve been. I emailed you I was coming, but I guess you didn’t get it. But then you acted all afraid of me. Like I was going to hurt you.”
“I know and I’m sorry,” Emma said, her eyes lowered. “I was confused and surprised. And stupid. It was a mistake.”
“I just wanted you to listen,” Thayer said. He looked so forlorn that Emma reached out and touched his arm. He didn’t pull away, so she moved a little closer and folded her arms around his shoulders, squeezing tight. At first, Thayer remained stiff and closed-off, but soon he melted into her, burying his head into her neck and running his hands up and down her arms. The movement was so passionate and real. It was glaringly clear to Emma just how much he cared for Sutton.
And the ache I felt inside made it glaringly clear just how much I’d cared for him. And how stupid I’d been to let him go. If only I had gone with Laurel to the hospital. If only we had all ridden together, maybe I wouldn’t be dead now.
Thayer traced a line from Emma’s shoulder to her wrist before pulling his hand away and looking sheepish. “I shouldn’t be pissed, really,” he said. “You had your reasons for not reading my messages, not writing back. I know I come on strong. I know I get too passionate, blow hot and cold. And I wasn’t telling you everything. You wanted to know what happened to me, and I never told you. But it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you. It was because … well, I was embarrassed.” A sad smile crossed his face. “I went to rehab, Sutton. For alcohol abuse. It was just something I had to do on my own. I was just so angry, all the time. I drank to numb it all, but it just made everything worse.”
“Rehab?” Emma blinked. “Are you … okay?”
Thayer nodded. “I had an amazing doctor, and it was such a meaningful, helpful experience that I got this.” He rolled up his sleeve and showed her the tattoo on his arm of the eagle in flight.
Emma stared at him, thinking of her conversation with Dr. Sheldon’s nurse. “Did you do the whole program?”
“Well, I was stuck in the hospital with my leg for a while, and then I left a little before my doctor wanted me to, but I was ready to come back to Tucson. To see you,” Thayer said earnestly. “I’ve told my parents where I was, too. My dad was horrified, of course, but he’s coming around, especially since I’m clean now. He’s even letting me back in the house, though we’ll see how that goes.”