Action had consequences.

That was the first thing I learned when I was a kid. The second thing I learned was that words wouldn't help me.

Those two things were something I'd brought with me to adulthood. I let the lessons I was subjected to define me, and in return, define my relationship with everyone else.

I saw now that while I'd tried showing Emma how much she meant to me, it hadn't been enough. She was a thinker; a speculator; a twisting-and-turning-each-and-every-thought; a "what if" kind of girl. So, while I'd been busy showing her what I felt for her, she might not have seen it all. She needed to hear it so there would be no second-guessing about what I actually meant.

Words were important.

That was something I learned recently. Words were important because there were things not even action could express.

I was baking when my phone vibrated at the kitchen island behind me, indicating a text message. Whenever I needed to calm down or just needed someplace to think, I found myself either baking something or cooking.

It wasn't helping me now.

Sharing my kitchen with Emma had somehow made the experience into something more, and now, without her, I found it lacking.

Goddamn it. Even cooking had been ruined. Not that it really surprised me. Emma had this uniqueness about her that made everything so much more exciting, and with her gone, so was the excitement.

Another thought I should've shared with Emma, I thought, remembering the text I'd sent her yesterday before my fight. I wasn't usually the sentimental type; it was just another thing she brought out in me–along with the glimpse of happiness and excitement.

Slowly, but surely, Emma changed me, and while a piece of me didn't like that, I could also see how much she meant to me when she was starting to impact me as a person. There were few I would change for, and she was one of them.

Drying my hands on my apron, I turned around and grabbed my phone, checking the text. I'd expected it to be from Callan, so it surprised me when it was from the one person I'd been afraid would never talk to me again.

Meet me at Cute Cat Café in Queens in one hour. I'll be in the backyard. We need to talk.

My lips twitched as I looked down at the screen and shook my head.

Cute Cat Café sounds like my kind of place. I'll be there. I typed and hit send. A second later, I saw that she'd read it.

Abandoning the red velvet cake I had started on, I took a quick shower and left to meet up with her. Thrill shot through me at the thought of seeing Emma after everything that had happened. The pain I'd amassed yesterday in the ring was just a distant throbbing, my mind too busy thinking of her to give any attention to the bruises.

There wasn't a parking space near the café, so I had to walk a few minutes to get there. I didn't mind. It was a nice enough evening. The sun had set, but the temperature was still warm.

It wasn't until I got to the café's backyard that my nerves buzzed underneath my skin. I knew this wouldn't be an easy conversation.

Emma was sitting with her back to me, watching a couple on the table beside her. The couple were gazing into each other's eyes with so much adoration, it twisted my heart. I couldn't see Emma's expression, but I knew the longing she felt because I felt it too. While I wasn't the flirty type, what we'd had between us was just as carefree and sweet as what the other couple had.

The second I got near, she turned around as if she'd sensed me.

Even sad, she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Though, it wasn't just the looks that made her so; it was who she was as a person that really got to me. I'd never met anyone quite like her. She was brave, yet naïve, but also intelligent. She cared about those around her and didn't have one mean bone in her body.

She was my opposite in so many ways–there was no wonder why I liked her so much when I could barely tolerate myself.

Her eyes widened as she took me in, from the bruise on my cheek to the cut on my lips. "What the hell happened to you?"

"You should've seen the other guys," I stated, taking a seat on the opposite side of her.

"Give me the truth, Gideon. For once," she demanded. Her words cut, but I deserved her anger.

"Sometimes, I participate in illegal fights," I admitted.

"Why?" She sounded like she couldn't understand why I'd want to fight.

"It's just something I need from time to time, to burn off some steam. We have rules in place, so no one is getting hurt too badly."

She still looked like she couldn't understand it, but she didn't question me further on that subject. She palmed the coffee cup in her hand and looked up at the sky. I followed her gaze. With the lights from the city, it was difficult to place any of the constellations.

"Did you mean what you said in the text you sent me?" she asked quietly, still looking up at the dark sky.

"Every single word of it. I'm not good at expressing myself..."

Emma shifted her attention back on me. "I think you expressed yourself perfectly. It meant a lot to me to read that," she whispered softly. Even hurt by what we'd done to her, she still continued to match my own way of talking.

Suddenly uncomfortable, I scratched the back of my neck. "Well...I...ah...it never helped in the past to use words, and I thought it didn't matter, so I learned action spoke louder. I guess I just forgot that sometimes, the people close to me deserve to hear what I think, rather than having to read through my actions."

"I don't know what you've been through that made you think words don't matter, and I won't ask. That's something you'll have to decide on your own if you ever want to share it with me. I won't pry. I just...I appreciate you making an effort."

Looking at Emma as if I was seeing her in a whole new light, I couldn't help the warmth spreading across my chest at her understanding. Most people were curious beings, but she was holding back–for me. Frankly, right now, she could've demanded every-fucking-thing from me, and I would've given it to her. Fair was fair. We'd known information about her that she hadn't freely given; it was only fair if she demanded the same in return.

"Listen, Emma...what we did to you, and not telling you about it, I'm so sorry for that. We betrayed your trust, and I don't know how we could ever make up for that."

"Yeah..." She let out a sad sigh. "I believe you guys are sorry, it just...I don't know how, or even if, I'll be able to forgive you guys. I've opened myself up to you in a way I'd never done before. I've been vulnerable with you while I discovered this whole new lifestyle. I literally gave you all of me, body and mind, and in return, you kept something so monumental from me. That's a huge break of trust, and I just don't know if I would ever be able to be that vulnerable with you again."

"It would never happen again," I insisted. "Seeing how much we've hurt you broke something in all of us. In the beginning, we didn't know how much you would come to mean to us, but as time moved on, we were scared that if we came clean, we would lose you. Turned out, we lost you anyway." The last words were barely a whisper, and I didn't know if she had even heard me.

Physical pain was something I could take, but the emotional pain of knowing we hurt her was unbearable.

She had every reason to leave us, and if she did decide on it, I would let her go, no matter how hard it would be. But until then, just like my friends, I would fight for her and show her just how much we cared about her–and about what we had together.

"I don't know if I can let myself believe that, even if I'd want to. You didn't see me when I found out, Gideon. I was broken. I still am," she said. "I can't go through that again." Emma blinked away tears. "I can't."

"What can we do to make you believe us when we say you won't ever go through that again? Because you won't, baby girl. We learned our lesson, and in the end, it hurt all of us."

She shook her head. "I'm not sure there is something you can do. It's something I need to figure out for myself, but it helps that I know you guys regret it."

"Of course, we do. You've become the single most important person in our life." God, I was spitting out so many truths today my head was spinning. Usually, I'd just think them, but I wasn't holding anything back now. Emma needed to know how I felt before it was too late to tell her.

Emma smiled wistfully. "I still care about you guys, you know. I haven't stopped. It probably would've made this a whole lot easier if I didn't, but I do. But sometimes...you have to listen to your head instead of your heart, and I'm just trying to figure out if this is one of those times." She looked to the table beside us, where the couple was holding hands and laughing. They seemed so carefree–the complete opposite of us. I wanted that easiness between us again.

"I have to protect myself," Emma continued. "But I don't know if protecting myself means letting you go or taking you back. The way I felt being with you guys these past weeks is something I'd never experienced before, and I'm pretty sure you've ruined me for all men. I'll never meet someone like you again... You're one of a kind."

Taking a chance that she wouldn't pull away, I reached for her hand. It was supposed to be a quick squeeze to comfort her, but as soon as I touched her, I couldn't let her go.

I'd never been one to initiate intimacy, but with Emma, I couldn't seem to help myself–especially now when I might not ever get a chance to again.

"You've ruined us too," I admitted. "There's been no one as special as you, and there never will be." Tears were swimming in her eyes as I talked, and a small whimper left her trembling lips. "I will fight for you, Emma. I will fight for this, but I'll stop if you decide you don't want us because I can't continue to be selfish around you. If you want to go, we'll let you."

Quiet sobs spilled from her, and I couldn't stop myself from leaving my seat and collecting her into my arms. "Shh," I whispered soothingly as I stroked back. "Please don't cry. I didn't mean to make you sad."

She clung to my waist and burrowed her face into my chest. Her tears wetted my shirt, and I could feel her shoulders shake at the force of her sobs. The couple next to us turned towards us but averted their gaze when I narrowed my eyes at them. Emma didn't need the attention while she was so vulnerable.

It took several minutes before she'd calmed down and pulled back. I dried her tears with my thumbs before reluctantly returning to my own seat.

"I should go. I have work tomorrow morning, and I'm going to meet Callan afterward," she said when she'd collected herself.

"Have you seen Mateo?" I asked, a hint of desperation in my voice. Shit, but I actually missed that guy.

"Yeah. I'm sure you'll hear from him soon." She sounded pretty sure of it, and God, I crossed my fingers that she was right.

"Come on, I'll drive you hope." I got up from my seat. "Don't give me that look. It's dark out, and it's not safe." With a reluctant nod, she gave in, and we left together. My heart felt both lighter and heavier. I just hoped that our talk helped Emma in some way to make her hurt a little less.