It was bullshit. They didn’t know me. How dare they throw their judgments from behind their keyboards as if they were saints. How dare they diminish the most important relationship in my life down to rumors and lies. How dare they hurt me without having a damn clue about how damaging words could be.
If humans knew how damaging words could be to someone’s mental health and stability, then maybe they would’ve chosen them differently.
Then again, maybe they liked the outcome. Maybe some sick fucks enjoyed hurting others in a way to make themselves feel better about their own shitty lives.
Emery tried to call me a few times, but I didn’t answer. I wasn’t in the right mindset to talk to her. She would’ve given me comfort, and I didn’t think that was something I deserved that evening. It wasn’t until around ten that night that my doorbell rang. I stumbled to answer it, and when I peeked out to see who it was, I was surprised to see Emery standing there.
Shit.
What was she doing here?
She couldn’t see me like that. I was drunk and in no state of mind to be dealing with her. She didn’t deserve my heavy mind that night.
“Oliver? I hear you moving around. Can you open up, please?” she asked.
I sighed as I took a step away from the door. I brushed my hands over my black T-shirt and raked my hand over my face, as if that was going to make me appear less intoxicated.
I opened the door, and there she was. Little Miss Sunshine, holding a bottle of wine. The moment she saw me, her smile turned upside down.
“Hi,” she breathed out.
“What are you doing here?”
“When you didn’t answer my calls, I wanted to check in on you. I’ve seen the news about . . .”
Her words wandered off, but I knew what she was talking about. By this time, the whole world knew what she was talking about.
“I thought I’d bring wine, but it seems that you already found something to take the edge off.”
I wasn’t proud of it. The last time I’d had a drink was when I woke up in a Disney princess bed. Luckily I wasn’t that far gone yet. If Emery hadn’t come over when she had, there was a chance I would’ve ended up at that same level of drunkenness.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
I grimaced. “I’m not the best company right now.”
“It’s okay. We don’t even have to talk, not really. I just want you to not be alone tonight.”
“What about Reese?”
“My neighbor is watching her for the night. So . . . can I?” she asked again. I stepped to the side of the door, and she walked in. “Maybe instead of wine, we should shoot for water, eh?”
“I’m not really feeling up for water,” I said, wanting whiskey.
“Well, we can do sparkling water and make it fancy. Did you know that if you add MiO to sparkling water it tastes just like Diet Dr Pepper? Random hack of the day,” she said, as if everything was normal. As if Cam hadn’t made some outrageous claims against me all over the internet and television today.
My throat felt tight as she wandered to the kitchen and came back out with two bottles of sparkling water. What did she think of me? What did she think of the rumors?
“Emery.”
“Yes?”
“I . . .” I looked down at my hands and rubbed them together. “I never hit Cam. I would never do that. I would never lay my hands on a woman.” The words burned as they fell from my mouth. I couldn’t think of a worse rumor to be spread around about me. The thought that people were thinking such things, tweeting those kinds of comments, made me sick to my stomach.
“I know,” she said, nodding, as if she didn’t even need me to confess that truth.
“I feel like I need to make it clear that everything she said was—”
“A lie.” Emery rested her free hand on my forearm and shook her head. “Oliver. I know. She lied about everything. I watched her lie straight to you when she spilled that drink on me. I watched her cruelness for days on end. I know what kind of person she is. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I know your heart. At least I’m slowly beginning to learn it, from what you’re showing me.”
“That’s not how people see me online. They are saying the complete opposite of that, judging every part of me. They even brought up the idea that it was my fault that my brother died again.”
“Which is all lies. You know that, right?”
I didn’t reply, because my brain seemed to love to jumble up my thoughts, making it hard to know what I believed anymore.
Emery set the bottles of water on the coffee table and walked back over to me. She put her hands into mine and squeezed. “Oliver, those people who judge you the most are the ones who have never been close enough to you to hear your heartbeats. Their opinions don’t matter at all. They don’t get to define who you are with their lies. And every time you feel as if they are getting to you, I’m going to remind you of the truth.”