Chapter 4: At Least She's Better Than Me Now

Emma's POV

The drug handoff was supposed to be simple. Meet some low-level dealer in an abandoned warehouse, exchange cash for pills, done. But when you're running a fever and show up twenty minutes late, simple shit tends to go sideways real fast.

"What the hell took you so long?" The dealer's eyes are bloodshot, twitchy. Bad sign.

"Sorry, got held up," I mumble, pulling out the cash.

That's when everything goes to hell. The bastard suddenly decides he doesn't trust us, starts waving his gun around like some wannabe gangster. In the chaos, I dive behind a crate just as he puts a bullet through the window behind me.

Glass explodes everywhere.

Sharp pain shoots up my arm as a jagged piece slices through my jacket and into my skin. I look down and see blood seeping through the fabric, spreading fast.

"Emma! You hit?" Marcus appears next to me, gun drawn.

"Just a cut," I say, but when I pull my hand away from the wound, my palm comes back red. "Shit."

Marcus takes one look at my arm and his face goes serious. He strips off his jacket and wraps it around the cut, applying pressure.

"You're bleeding pretty bad. Come on, I'm taking you to the hospital."

My stomach drops. "Hospital? No, Marcus, I can't—"

"You need stitches. This isn't negotiable."

I want to argue, but the room's starting to spin a little. Marcus is already helping me to my feet, his arm steady around my waist.

"Marcus, can't we go somewhere else?"

"What are you afraid of? It's just a hospital."

But it's not just any hospital. It's Mercy Hospital. Where Mom has been lying in room 302 for the past three years. Where Jake might be visiting her tonight, like he does every week.

In Marcus's car, I grip the door handle tight. The city lights blur past the window, but all I can think about is that hospital. Those sterile hallways. That room I've never had the courage to enter.

"You look like shit. Does it hurt that bad?" Marcus glances at me while driving.

"It's not the pain. Marcus, my mom is at Mercy Hospital."

"Ah, fuck. Sorry about that." He pauses. "But it's too late to go anywhere else now. This is the closest one."

I close my eyes. Three years, and I've never once gone to see her. Every time I think about Mom lying in that bed, about what she'd think if she woke up and saw what I've become, I feel like complete garbage.

"What if we run into Jake?"

"Then we run into him. Emma, you can't keep torturing yourself like this."

Marcus parks in the hospital lot and I take a deep breath. The wound throbs with each heartbeat, but that's nothing compared to the anxiety eating at my chest.

The emergency room smells like disinfectant and sadness. A tired-looking nurse takes one look at my arm and nods.

"Not too deep, but it needs cleaning and stitches. How'd this happen?"

"Glass cut."

I sit on the examination bed while she cleans the wound, my eyes constantly scanning the ER. I'm terrified I'll suddenly see that familiar tall figure walking through the doors.

"Should she get a tetanus shot?" Marcus asks the doctor.

"Better safe than sorry."

The doctor prepares the injection, but just as he's about to give me the shot, I see something through the glass doors that makes my heart stop.

"Marcus." My voice comes out shaky.

"What?"

Through the hallway window, I can see Jake talking to a young, pretty nurse. She's laughing at something he said, her whole face lighting up. And Jake is smiling back. They look comfortable together. Natural.

My chest tightens like someone's squeezing my heart.

"Marcus," I choke out, unable to look away from the scene.

Marcus follows my gaze and immediately understands. "Emma, don't jump to conclusions. They could just be—"

"Just what?" I whisper. "Look how happy they are."

The nurse touches Jake's arm while she talks, and he doesn't pull away. They've clearly done this before. This isn't some random professional interaction.

I bite my lip hard, tasting blood. For three years, I told myself Jake would move on, find someone better. But seeing it actually happen feels like dying.

That's when Jake turns his head and looks right through the glass at me.

Our eyes meet across the hallway, and time stops. I watch his face go through a dozen different emotions in seconds. Shock. Pain. Something that might be hope. Then he notices Marcus beside me, and his expression hardens.

Jake takes a deep breath and pushes through the ER doors.

"Emma. You're hurt?"

His voice is carefully controlled, but I can hear the concern underneath. It makes this so much worse.

"Just a small cut."

Jake's eyes move to Marcus. "And you are?"

The hostility in his voice is unmistakable.

"I'm Marcus."

"You her boyfriend?"

The question hangs in the air. I see the pain in Jake's eyes, the way he's bracing himself for the answer. Part of me wants to tell him the truth, to explain everything, but I can't. For the mission. For his safety. For his future with that pretty nurse who doesn't carry the weight of dead parents and buried secrets.

I make a decision that tears my heart in half.

"Yeah." I deliberately loop my arm through Marcus's. "You look like you've moved on too though. That girl's pretty, and at least she's better than me now."

Jake's face goes completely white. "Emma..."

His voice breaks on my name, and I almost crack. Almost throw my arms around him and confess everything. But I force myself to keep talking.

"We both have new lives now, right?"

Every word feels like swallowing glass, but I keep going. I have to. For him.

Jake stares at me for a long moment, his eyes full of pain so deep I can barely stand to look at it.

"I hope you'll be happy," he finally says.

Then he turns and walks away, his shoulders rigid.

The moment he's gone, I collapse. All the strength leaves my body and I start shaking, tears streaming down my face before I can stop them.

Marcus gently pulls his arm free from my grip and pats my back.

"Emma, you didn't have to do that. This undercover assignment will end. My wife can't come back, but you're different. You and him could still—"

"No, Marcus." I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. "For this mission to succeed, I'd rather die than compromise it. If I get involved with Jake again and something happens to me, think about how much pain he'd be in."

Let him hate me. Let him forget me. That way, even if I die during this mission, he won't hurt too much. It's the last thing I can do for him.

"Emma..."

"I'm fine, Marcus."

But I'm not fine. As we drive away from the hospital, I keep looking back at those lit windows, knowing Jake might still be in there somewhere. The distance between us has never felt greater.

I think about that nurse's smile, the easy way she touched his arm. She represents everything I can never give him: a normal life, a safe love, a future without lies and violence.

'Jake,' I think, watching the hospital disappear behind us. 'Forget me. Forget the Emma Parker who used to love you.'

The city lights blur through my tears, but the pain in my chest burns clearer than ever.