After her husband dies in a car accident, Emma Haines-Gaunt is encouraged by her mother and sister to attend a therapy group for widows. Though reluctant to even give it a try, Emma finds herself in a church basement listening to heartbreaking stori...
"I want you. Yeah, I want you. 'Cause nothing comes close To the way that I need you. I wish I can feel your skin. And I want you From somewhere within. It feels like there's oceans Between you and me once again."
Song: Oceans - Seafret
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"If I have one more, Harry, I'm gonna be drunk," Emma said, shaking her finger at him as she sat next to him on a barstool at a random pub he suggested. Harry let out an amused laugh, looking over at her.
"Well, Emma, I think you're already drunk, my friend," he snickered, taking another sip of his beer.
"You got me drunk," Emma grumbled, smirking over at him.
"I got you drunk? Really? Whose idea was this again?" He laughed out loud, looking mildly offended, although she knew he wasn't – not really.
"I'll have you know I have yet to take out even one pound from my wallet. It's you, mister," she said, poking his bicep with her index finger.
"I can't make the pretty girl pay," he scoffed, looking at her incredulously.
"You still think I'm pretty?" Emma asked, looking at him wide-eyed and curious.
"Of course I still think you're pretty, Emmy. You're beautiful. You've only gotten better," he told her matter-of-factly.
"Harry," she cooed, feeling every vessel in her heart tighten with his words. He chuckled at her reaction.
"Did you really think I could just turn off those kinds of feelings?" He asked quietly, avoiding eye contact altogether.
Emma almost couldn't breathe at the mention of feelings. It tore at her thinking back to their end – back to the selfish way she just left him and led him on after the fact because she was too much of a coward to tell him she wasn't coming back. She pushed back the tears that were prickling at her eyes as she bowed her head, looking down at her glass.
The silence was killing her. She wanted to say something. She wanted to say everything she always meant to say. But she wasn't sure if it would come out right. She swallowed back the lump in her throat and lifted her head to look up at him. His head lifted too and his wondering eyes met hers.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"For what?" He asked curiously.
"For everything. Just... everything," she sighed, shaking her head.
"Emma..." He breathed lowly.
"No, Harry. I need to... I need to say it. I need... I just need you to know that I never meant to... to hurt you. I never meant to string you along. I just... I couldn't bear to be the one who broke your heart," she explained, finding it hard to hold back her emotions.
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