Chelsea was home today, she had a fever this morning.

I was just finishing up my last project of the day when I heard someone on the stairs, but the steps were too heavy to be hers. I leaned back in my chair to look down the hallway. “Chels?”

Sarah popped her head in the door.

“Hey,” I said, blinking at her. “What are you doing home?”

“I got my period. You need to come downstairs.”

“Who picked you up?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just come downstairs.” Then she left.

I let out an exasperated breath. Alex probably brought her and he probably dinged the van or something on the way here. Great.

I got up and took off my headset.

Why’d the school let them leave without calling me? I made a mental note to suss that out. I mean, I know they let high schoolers walk off campus without a parent standing there, but I should have gotten a call about the missed classes at the very least.

I jogged down the steps. Sarah was standing in the mouth of the living room and I came up behind her. “Just please tell me Alex didn’t damage any—” I froze.

Emma was on the sofa.

She had Chelsea cradled in her arms, bundled in her Frozen blanket, and she was talking softly to her. My dog had his head on her thigh, looking up at her.

It was like a still-life painting. Something a master had created out of the deepest recesses of my brain. I had to clutch a hand over my chest because it felt like it was going to split open.

Not a second had passed. It hadn’t been six months since I’d seen her, it was a heartbeat. A flicker.

This is the thing nobody tells you about The One. How they’re timeless. How the moment they pop up again you’re right back in it, right where you left off. I was darted through the heart, hit by the truck, my brain taking the screenshot.

Her hair was in a loose bun. She had on this light blue sweater and these little gold dangling dragonfly earrings. And I couldn’t even breathe looking at her.

She glanced up.

“She has a fever. Did you know?” she said.

I just stared. Mute.

When I didn’t answer, she gazed back at my little sister and brushed the hair off her forehead. Chelsea was hugging her. She looked so content. Like a baby in the arms of someone she loves.

My mouth was dry. “I, uh. I gave her Tylenol two hours ago. She’s been kind of pulling on her ear,” I said.

Emma nodded. “I’ll look at her eardrums.”

The moment felt normal. Like she’d never left. Like I was just coming downstairs to get water in between meetings and she was home with me on her day off, helping with the kids.

I cleared my throat and turned to Sarah. “Can you—”

“Yup,” she said, cutting me off. She took Chelsea from Emma and carried her out of the room. The second Chelsea was gone, Brad took the spot on Emma’s lap. She put her hand on my dog’s head and peered at me from the sofa. “Sarah called me to pick her up. She got her first period,” she said.

I felt my heart sink. So she hadn’t come to see me.

Not that I expected her to. She hadn’t called me in six months. Still, it hurt.

“Can we go in the kitchen?” I asked.

I didn’t know if I could have another depressing conversation on this sofa, I’d have to set it on fire.

We moved to the breakfast nook and I went straight to the fridge. Mostly to bury my face, to try and get my feelings together before I had to sit directly across from her. “Do you want something to drink?” I asked, talking to her but staring at a gallon of milk.

“No. Thank you.”

I gave myself another few seconds. Then I closed the fridge door, walked over, and took the seat in front of her.

Brad hopped into her lap and frowned at me across the table while she peered around the room.

“I like the chore chart,” she said.

“Thanks.”

That’s all I could muster. The disappointment was too sobering. What do you say after six months of nothing?

Sarah still followed her on Snap. Emma was living in Wakan. As far as I knew this was the longest time she’d stayed put in the last decade.

But she couldn’t stay put for me.

For some reason, with her sitting in front of me, this felt like a slap.

They were her family. She was getting to know them, I wanted that for her. And I knew why she’d left, it had been a mutual decision. But she’d clearly put in some effort that she hadn’t been willing or able to put in here, and seeing her opened the old wound like it had never closed. Or maybe it was a new injury altogether. Evidence that she’d been capable of more than she’d claimed.

If Emma had six months of staying in her, why couldn’t she have given it to us?

Just two hours away.

She never visited, never called. And now she was only here because Sarah needed her.

I mean, I guess I should have been glad Emma at least cared enough to show up for that.

I sat back in my chair looking anywhere but at her.

All I wanted to do was look at her. Soak her up, store her away like I might never get another shot to do it. But I couldn’t do it without the lump in my throat threatening to make me cry.

I missed her so much I just wanted to get up and grab her and hold her and kiss her, but I got to sit here instead, knowing her being here was only because my sister texted her. This was just a social call. Popping in to say hi. At least that’s what it felt like. And did she drive two hours just to pick up Sarah? Because that didn’t feel likely. It felt more plausible that she was already in the area and why would she be in the area?

Was she seeing someone?

The idea burst into my brain like an intrusive thought on steroids.