my parents are already sitting with Wren and his wife, Layla when I get to the restaurant. My lips curling up into a big smile when my dad stands from his seat to greet me, opening his arms to pull me into a tight bear hug. The familiar scent of oak filling my nose, reminding me of home and the hours I spent in his clinic working the front desk.

"There's my girl!" he says as he wraps his arms around me.

"Hi Dad," I say and lean onto my toes, holding him closely before greeting my mom with a kiss on the cheek. "Hi Mama," I say as I unbutton my coat, folding it over the back of my chair before leaning over the back of Wren's chair to give him a hug. I give him a tight squeeze, and then do the same with Layla before settling into my chair at the end of the table.

"How's work, sweetheart?" Mom asks me, twirling a piece of her blonde hair around the tip of her finger. Her bright blue eyes matching mine. Growing up, everyone always said I was the spitting image of my mother. I used to hate it, until I realized what a compliment it was to be compared to the strongest woman I know.

"It's been busy," I say with a smile. "But it's good," I tell her before shifting my gaze to Wren and Layla. "So... what's the big news?"

"Right to it, huh?" Wren asks with a small chuckle.

"I'm curious to know myself," Dad says, folding his hands over the edge of the table. The warmth in his eyes contagious as he leans forward with a raised eyebrow.

Wren chuckles and sits up as he takes Layla's hand, resting their tangled hands in her lap. "As you know, my residency is wrapping up and we've been talking a lot about where we wanted to end up that would be best for both of us," he explains. "I was applying around for a fellowship, and I got offered a really great one for cardio in Arizona."

"What?" I gasp. "Wren, that's wonderful!"

"That's big," Dad says. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah, we are," Wren says with a nod. "It won't be until the new year once I finish up my residency, but Layla's found a great office to work out of, too. And it's only a fellowship. We might end up back in New York in a few years."

My lips curl up at the pride written on Layla's face as she grins at him. The two met in their first year of university and got married between graduating their undergrads and pursing higher education with Wren going on to seek his M.D. while Layla focused on obtaining her PsyD. They are two of the smartest people I know and perfectly made for each other.

I used to be jealous of them and it wasn't until I had finally ended things with Charlie that I realized it was because they had everything I wanted. The way that Layla supports Wren unconditionally was something I never had. And then just as I thought I had freed myself of him, Luke creeps back into my thoughts. I've gone a whole day without seeing him, and I was foolish to think that meant that I wouldn't think about him again.

"Em, honey," Dad says, resting his hand on my forearm to get my attention.

My cheeks flush as I turn my head, realizing I've missed a part of the conversation. When I realize that conversation includes a bottle of wine, and Charlie and his dad, I immediately regret letting myself daydream. "Oh."

"Hey Em," Charlie says with his business smile. The smile that blinds people from seeing who he really is. He uses it a lot when he's around my family, especially since the break-up. Growing up in a small town, it's hard to get away from each other when it comes to family things. My parents and his being good friends, and our break-up has only made things worse.

It's like they spend more time together now than they ever did when we were together.

"Hey." I swallow as I sit up a little straighter.

"How are you doing, Emery?" Mr. White asks, the same condescending smile that is almost always there on his lips. The look somehow both comforting and intimidating, and it's a skill Charlie has gotten very good at.

"I'm fine," I say, keeping my answers short and sweet. I spent far too much time trying to please the White's and their expectations for me as Charlie's girlfriend. I thought about saying what I really want to say which is for him to go to hell, but I know it's pointless. It's better to just fight through the annoyance, bite my tongue and play nice.

"This was really kind of you, Will," Dad says, gesturing to the wine bottle now on the table and my eyes shift to Wren, a weak smile creeping onto my lips.

"Yeah, well, we heard about Wren's fellowship and wanted to say congratulations," he says, patting Wren's shoulder. "We're excited for you."

"Thank you, Mr. White," Wren says before my mom's lips curl up into a friendly smile.

"Why don't you and Charlie join us for dinner?" she asks.

"Mom–" Wren starts to say at the same time that Charlie agrees to joining us, settling into the chair opposite of me. I feel Wren's eyes on me as Mr. White sits next to him, and my lips curl up into a tight smile as I shift my gaze anywhere but the end of the table.

"Well, shall we pop this open?" Dad asks, grabbing the wine bottle from the center of the table. When he gets enough nods to be considered a majority, he stands to find a waiter with a corkscrew and with it my eyes track him around the restaurant.

"So, Emery, how's the new boyfriend?" Charlie asks, successfully earning my attention.

"Boyfriend?" Mom asks. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I meet Charlie's eyes and watch the hint of mischief in his eyes. "Because I don't have a boyfriend," I say. "Charlie is referring to my neighbor, Luke."

"You kiss all your neighbors?" Charlie eggs me on.

It's better than kissing you. "You know what?" I say and sit a little straighter, turning my attention to Wren and Layla. "I'm actually not feeling that well. I think, I'm going to head out, but I'm so happy for the two of you."

"Thank you," Wren says, nodding in my direction.

"I hope you feel better," Layla says, taking my hand as I stand and I nod.

"I'll call you and dad later, okay, Mom?" I say as I pull on my coat. "I'll try and come out to Milton soon to visit."

"Okay," she says, standing to give me a hug and my stomach twists as I lean into her, wrapping my arms around her tightly. "Feel better, sweetheart."

I nod. "Bye Mr. White," I say, putting on a polite smile. "Charlie."

"Bye Emery," Mr. White says.

Grabbing my purse, I toss the strap over my shoulder and head for the restaurant doors. The cold winter air bringing heat to my cheeks as they flush, hugging my coat tighter around my chest. There is significantly less pressure in my head as I head for the subway, it short-lived when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey," Charlie says. "Let me walk with you."

"Seriously?" I pause, turning to him. "Was me getting up and leaving my family dinner not enough of a hint? I don't want anything to do with you, Charlie."

"You don't mean that."

"Except, I do," I say. "I don't know what it's going to take to get your head wrapped around this, but you need to stop interfering with my life. You can't keep showing up at my work or my apartment. We're broken up."

"I know, but I just want to fix this," he says, gesturing between us.

"There's nothing to fix," I say and turn on my heel, continuing my walk without him this time. Leaving him behind me as my anger warms me to my bone. Every chance he gets to make my life miserable, he seems to take and I've had enough of it.

That night, after making myself something to eat, I lay in bed and stare at the roof as I toss and turn. I thought once I was free of Charlie, the insomnia would follow, but it seems to have stuck around. I used to stay awake for days at a time until I would finally just crash.

It's gotten better since then, but it's not completely gone. Now, I spend hours staring at the roof until I eventually find sleep for at least a few hours. I wish it were easier than that. I wish I didn't spend hours waiting for sleep to find me, but my brain just doesn't seem to shut off.

I lay and think, and overthink, and spend hours going over conversations that could have gone differently if I had just said what I meant instead of what they wanted to hear. The only place that I'm ever safe of that is with books. I never seem to second guess myself there when I'm helping authors strengthen their plot lines.

And maybe it's the thousands of books I've read in my short time on this earth, but it's easier to know what to say when it comes to the written word. I find my voice in between the lines. I never have to think about it. It just pours out of me.

Turning over, my gaze settles on the digital clock on my nightstand reading 1:32am. A groan falls from my lips as I roll on to my back and another deep breath later, I sit up and run my hand over the crinkled sheets. A second later, I toss my legs over the edge of the bed and get up. I peel the sheets off the mattress and toss them in laundry hamper.

A pair of sweatpants and a book later, I'm sitting on one of the dryers in the building's laundry room with the lull of the washer as white noise in the background. I tuck my feet under my thighs and rest my book over my calves as I lean over the pages and breathe in the words.

Even when I'm doing everything right, it still feels like the whole world is against me. Like everyone is out to get me for the things I can't control. My whole life all I have ever wanted is to fit in, to be someone that others could turn to. And as I've gotten older that need to fit in turned into a desire of being needed.

Up until I met him, that void was never satisfied. It was left dormant waiting for someone to fill in the empty space.

My heart was left open for him and he pulled me apart. Piece by piece. Petal by petal. Until I was nothing but a stem with no room to grow. The two of us could have been perfect, but the more I got to know him, the further he seemed to be. Even with everything he put me through, I somehow still find myself wanting you.

He put me in a maze and his heart was the prize, but he never really wanted me to find it. Every time I got close to catching it, he put ten more obstacles in front of me to overcome. I wanted to be with him forever, and he only wanted me until my shine wore off. As soon as the last sparkle faded, he tossed me to the side like I was nothing.

I was nothing more than what he said I was.

And it took him breaking me for me to realize that I am so much more than him. I am forever and if he was the person meant for me, the sparkle would have never faded from his eyes.

The washer buzzes, shaking me from the fictional world. Tucking my bookmark between the pages, I set it aside and jump down from the dryer and prop open the washer door. With a small dance in my step, overly tired, I pull the damp sheets out and tuck them into the dryer.

Swaying in my step, I start the dryer and drum my fingers against the metal surface. When I spin on my heel, I immediately catch myself at the sight of Luke in the doorway to the laundry room with an amused smirk rested on his lips.

"No, please," Luke says, gesturing at me. "Keep going."

"How long have you been standing there for?" I ask, my cheeks turning pink.

The corners of his lips curl up as he steps into the room and I pull myself back up on the unused dryer, sitting a little taller at the sight of him. "Long enough," he says. "What are you doing up? It's nearly two thirty."

"I couldn't sleep."

"So you decided to do laundry?" he asks.

I shrug. "Why are you here?"

He lifts an eyebrow in my direction. "You realize this is a public space, right?" he asks, but doesn't wait for my answer. "I was getting in from work and heard the washer beep."

"Okay, well, goodnight."

He smiles at that. "Why don't you like me?"

"Who said I don't like you?"

"Are you saying that you do?" he asks.

I shake my head. "That's not what I said."

"But it was implied."

Rolling my eyes, I grab my book and ignore his comment. I hope he'll take the hint by me ignoring him, but instead he takes the book from me and forces me to meet his eyes as he grins. The kind that lights up all his features and makes it nearly impossible to look away.

"Luke!" I whine, untucking my legs as I reach forward for it. "Give it back."

"Not until you give me a real answer," he says, holding it out behind him as I rest my hand on his shoulder to lean forward. "Why don't you like me?"

"Why does it matter?" I ask, meeting his eyes as I pause in my attempt to get my book.

"Because you're the only woman I've ever gone back to," he whispers and I almost think it was in my head but the raw truth is written on his face.

And suddenly, it's like I need to kiss him more than I need oxygen to breathe as I lean forward and press my lips to his. My hands wind around his shoulders as he sets my book down on the dryer behind me, his arms moving around my waist as he pulls me tighter to his chest. I press my legs against his hips as he steps between them, filling the space between us and I swear I've lost all my senses. I lose my mind when Luke's around and somehow, I'm okay with it, because in this moment, there's not a single other thing I want. I just want him.