Sometimes healing begins with words you swore you’d never say out loud. When Emma opens up about Trevor to Josh, it’s both terrifying—and freeing.

You Weren’t the Problem

The tension eases slightly, but my mind still swirls with unspoken questions.

“How much did my brother tell you about my life after you left?” I ask, trying to sound casual as I take a bite of pizza.

Josh leans back, rubbing his chin. His eyes narrow slightly, like he’s weighing how much truth I’m ready for. “Over the years, he gave me little updates. But more recently… he mentioned the guy you were with.”

He picks up a slice of pizza and takes a bite, chewing slowly—giving me space.

My stomach tightens. “Yeah?”

Josh exhales through his nose. “Actually called him a butthole—used a different word, of course,” he adds with a smirk, but there’s something darker flickering in his eyes.

I let out a breath, more of a sigh than a laugh. “Yeah. Took me too long to figure that out. I was… stupid.”

Josh watches me closely, his voice softer now. “You believed in someone who didn’t deserve it. That’s not stupidity—that’s heart.”

I lower my gaze, tracing the rim of my glass with my fingertip. “Maybe. But I let him chip away at me. Slowly. Quietly. Until I couldn’t even recognize myself anymore. I kept thinking… if I just did this one thing right, if I just stayed calm, or quiet, or small enough, maybe he’d finally love me the way I needed.”

Josh’s brows pull together. He doesn’t interrupt.

“I wasted four years,” I say, the words sharp now. “Four years trying to make someone happy who only seemed to smile when I was hurting. He made everything my fault—my reactions, my tears, my silence. I started to believe it. That I was the one who needed fixing.”

Josh leans forward, voice low but steady. “You weren’t the problem. He was.”

I swallow against the tightness clawing up my throat. “I know that now. But back then? I was addicted to the idea that if I just held on long enough, things would get better. Like maybe I could love the damage out of him.”

Josh’s voice is barely above a whisper. “That’s not love, Em. That’s survival.”

I nod, eyes stinging, but I won’t let the tears fall. Not here. Not over him. “And the worst part? I think I stayed because… at least he didn’t leave. Nick left. Adam left. You… left. And Trevor? He stayed. Even if he wasn’t really with me, at least he was still there.”

Josh doesn’t say anything at first. Just watches me with a look so full of regret, it makes my chest ache.

Then he reaches across the table and gently takes my hand. His thumb brushes against mine.

 “Oh, Emma.”

My breath catches. The tenderness in those two words—how they hold sorrow, guilt, and something achingly familiar—nearly undoes me.

He tilts his head slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Have you dated since?”

I glance away and let out a breath. “No. I’ve been taking time for myself. Trying to rebuild. It’s… hard to let people in after someone like Trevor. He made me second-guess everything—even my own instincts. Trust doesn’t come easy anymore.”

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J. Renae Sinclair, Author

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