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7 months. That's how long his life has been on pause, time frozen in place, thick like syrup all around him. Guilt still threaded through his very soul sometimes, his stomach sinking at the memories of leaving his son and running away, leaving the place where she was still haunting him like a ghost. Now he's back stateside, and Emily is too, both of them more broken and looking older than before, two poles of the same world, always opposite but inherently the same.
Their first private conversation was spent in tears and apologies, ending in desperate hugs and wet cheeks. Doyle was dead, Declan was safe, and Emily was back with the team - it seemed as if the universe was giving them a second chance. They would be fools not to take it. The first words Emily said were "I'm sorry", and the involuntary sob bursting through her chest was unstoppable as she clapped a hand over her mouth. When he repeated those same words to her not even ten seconds later the tears fell, and then Aaron was enveloping her in a hug. At that second, he felt as if someone had pressed play on the remote controlling his life, and for the first time in 7 months, he breathed freely, inhaling the familiar scent of her hair.
"You look like shit," she says when they pull away, a teasing glint in her eyes. He takes it as a good sign.
"Thanks," he scoffs, shaking his head as his hands settle on her waist. "Jack hates the beard too."
Emily raises her hand and cups his cheek, traces his features with her fingertips, feels the beard under her skin. Something close to wonder is all over her face as she smiles dreamily, relearning him.
"It's not the beard," she says. "I actually like it. You just look..."
She trails off, unsure how to continue.
"Different?" he helps. Emily shakes her head.
"Sad," she whispers and takes her hands off his face, trying to pull away. "I'm so sorry."
He doesn't let her, only holds her tighter, one of his hands cupping the back of her head to press her into his chest. When she exhales and relaxes in his embrace, Aaron kisses her head.
"I know, I know," he says, lips never leaving her hair. "We will get through this."
He feels her breathe in shakily and then sniffle against his shirt. Emily looks up at him with a small frown, eyes searching his face for a lie.
"We?" she asks quietly and watches him nod. "You mean, you still-"
She doesn't finish. She'd thought in Paris that if she would get this second chance with him it would be impatient, rough, teeth on lips, hands grabbing skin. Instead, it's so soft she wills herself not to cry and fails. His hands cradle her face tenderly as they kiss like he's afraid she can disappear again, turn into stardust right in front of him, her skin on his a hallucination, a distant memory. But she's there, sharing her air with him, warm and as beautiful as ever, and for the first time in 7 months, Aaron feels like everything can be alright again.
He wipes her tear away as they pull back, hands still on her cheeks. Emily kisses him again, just a light brush of her lips on his, and sniffles.
"I still want you, Emily," he says as she looks up at him. "This hasn't changed. Not for me."
She kisses him again, unable to speak because of the tears threatening to spill the second she does. After, she hugs him tightly as if she never wants to let him out of her sight again, and he feels more than hears her mumble the same words.
"Let's get you home," he says, patting her back as he steps away and starts collecting his things.
"You mean my hotel?" she chuckles mirthlessly. "I don't have a home."
Aaron turns off the lights in his office and takes her hand.
"We're going to mine."
"What about Jack?" she asks with a frown, concern in her tone. Aaron's face falls, but he quickly pulls himself together.
"He's at Jessica's for the weekend. I didn't tell him you..." he trails off and runs a hand down his face. "He just thinks you had to go away for a while."
Emily's ready to cry again. He strokes her hand with his thumb where it's clasped in his, soothing her.
"We'll do it together, okay?" Aaron says, turning her to him. "Let's go home."
Emily nods, composing herself, and they leave the office together, unable to fight hope blooming like a spring flower in both their chests.
They settle into a routine. Jack is delighted to see her, the 6-year-old having missed his favorite adult besides his dad and aunt crazily. They get her an apartment because moving in together seems like a somewhat rushed decision and they don't want to confuse Jack. The three of them spend time together, visiting zoos, parks, museums, and aquariums when they have time. Aaron and Emily squeeze some time for themselves into this craziness, time to just be together, sit on the couch half-naked and eat takeout. They never finish any movie they're watching, his hands trailing under what used to be his shirt to feel her soft skin there, her teeth on his earlobe. It's perfect until it's not.
He doesn't know why he had naively thought everything would just go back to normal after her return, would be like it was once again. He just wanted to believe it, so he didn't notice Reid's hurt still in place, Morgan's tentative trust. But most importantly, Aaron had hoped Emily would bounce back easily with his love - because that's what it is, even though they haven't voiced it - and support, but it never happened.
He notices it the most when she thinks no one is watching her. Her gaze is strangely vacant, empty if she's not focused on anything at the moment, her nails in her mouth. Emily's eyes light up when he steps into her line of sight, and at first, he's giddily happy about it, but soon he realizes that he's the only thing keeping her tethered, keeping her afloat. Aaron can see her slipping away, and his heart breaks every time her smile turns tight and fake, eyes sad. Emily keeps shrugging off all of his attempts to help, claiming that she's fine and that he makes her happy. It's not a lie and he knows that, but watching the person he loves fall away to nothing before his very eyes makes the place between his ribs burn.
He hugs her extra tightly each time he can now, kisses her every chance he gets, lips pressing love into her skin in a desperate attempt to fix this, to make her feel better. In the times she comes to him and uses him to drown out her emotions, to fill this void inside of her, he lets her because of course he does, over and over again, her nails leaving red traces on his skin. He'd even suggested going back to therapy once. Emily recoiled and flinched when he reached for her again, her guard shooting up, the warmth of her spine under his fingers disappearing. Aaron managed not to point out how her bones feel more prominent now, sharper.
It escalates to almost the point of no return once. Emily is not even 100% sure why she's doing it, irrational anger at him inside her the only thing she feels clearly, any other feelings slowly but surely getting overshadowed by this irritation that burns her from inside out. All she knows is that he needs to leave her, free himself from what she's sure can't be the relationship he's dreamt of all this time. She's shorter with him, her temper flaring at times, and he's still so perfect, so patient, and she knows he won't leave himself. She needs to push him towards the edge and watch him fall over it, hoping that later he will realize it was for his own good.
I understand, I'm a liability
Get you wild, make you leave, I'm a little much for everyone
Aaron's furious. Emily had disobeyed his direct order, put herself and the hostage into a dangerous situation, and didn't even look sorry. He pulls her into an empty room back at the precinct, his brows furrowed, arms crossed over his chest, jaw twitching, and she knows he's trying to contain his anger, all of his tells on display. And he is, all he sees is red, her going into that stupid house, her face hardening under his gaze, her expression almost brazen in the way she'd turned away from him and went in there despite him telling her not to. He wants to yell at her, then hug her tightly, then shake her by the shoulders because he can't understand why on earth she would do something like that, but he doesn't. Instead, he takes a deep breath, eyes hard and angry.
"Care to explain?" he asks finally through clenched teeth. Emily crosses her arms over her chest and puts her feet shoulder-width apart, mirroring him.
"Explain what?" she says with a tilt of her head. Aaron sighs. She wasn't going to make it easy for him.
"What was that? I gave you a direct order to not go into that house only for you to disobey it immediately."
"So?" she raises an eyebrow. "I did what I thought was right and everyone's fine. I don't see the problem."
Aaron briefly looks up in an attempt to calm himself down, and takes another deep breath.
"What if it didn't work out, Emily? You could've been killed, how do you not understand that?" he says a little louder.
"Well, I didn't get killed, did I?" she responds, matching his tone. There’s a fleeting thought in her head about how she wishes she did. "I'm perfectly fine, and if you don't trust my judgment in the field then I-"
"It's not that, Emily," he almost shouts, cutting her off. Aaron closes his eyes to compose himself, and when he opens them again Emily's looking at him as if she's daring him to yell at her, to say something else, something close to triumph in her gaze as she's trying to make him lose it. It takes him a second to understand she's doing this on purpose, antagonizing him, and he stops immediately. He won't engage in this conversation, especially when he knows it's not her speaking to him, her normal reasonable self still hurt and broken under this mask. Aaron unfolds his arms and takes a step closer to her.
"I can't bury you again, Em," he says quietly and watches her face go from smug to shocked to even angrier than before in the span of three seconds. "Once was hard enough."
Aaron regrets it as soon as he says it, knowing it was the wrong move the second her eyes harden even more. Emily takes a step closer to him, hands clenched in fists.
"I never asked you to do that, Aaron," she hisses at him, poison dripping from her voice. "Never! Maybe next time you'll actually listen instead of making life-changing decisions for others."
Her words hit him like a slap in the face, and he can almost feel the sting of her palm on his cheek. By the time he processes it, she's stormed off and is nowhere to be seen. Aaron sighs and forces himself to calm down once again, knowing Emily didn't mean what she's said. He takes his phone out and opens messages, his thumb hovering over her name as he stares at her contact picture. Her smile is brilliant in it, dazzling, and it makes affection for her bloom in his chest. Putting his phone away without typing anything, Aaron leaves the room with one thought heavy on his mind.
He's leaning against the wall when she exits the bathroom, waiting for her just as she knew he would. No words are spoken as she follows him into an empty hallway, then stops when he turns to her and stares at him, the remnants of the fight still coursing through her. His gaze is too knowing, too heavy, so Emily looks to the floor, unable to fight the blush rising in her cheeks. Shame.
“Give me your hand.”
She looks up at him, clearly confused, as he stretches his hand out. She lifts hers involuntarily, and Aaron pulls her gently to him, intertwines their fingers. Emily looks at their joined hands and realizes he made her stop picking at her nails.
“Don’t say it.”
“I wasn’t going to,” he replies, and Emily feels a new wave of shame crash into a new wave of irritation, creating some kind of a messed-up storm inside her. She squeezes her eyes shut, overcoming her natural instinct to push him away even when she needed him the most.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly, her gaze still locked on their hands. His lips press onto the crown of her head and she flinches slightly. Aaron frowns, drawing her further into his embrace, arms banding around her back.
“It’s okay. I know.”
Emily lets out a sigh as she turns her head to press the side of her face against his chest. One of his hands comes up to stroke her hair, making her fight back tears.
“I just...” she tries again. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I know,” Aaron repeats and kisses her head. “The case is over, let’s go home.”
He feels her nod against his chest, and Emily wonders if he knows that he is her home and how much she is going to miss it when it’s gone.
Emily doesn’t fight with him anymore after that, but it’s almost even worse. She’s distant, apathetic in a way that unsettles him; her guard seemingly up even when they are together. Her nightmares came back, more vivid and terrifying than before, and nights became torture. Aaron doesn’t let her out of his sight, stays up with her most of the time so she can feel his hand raking through her hair as the tension leaves her muscles after another dream.
Aaron knows he has to do something even if she hates him for it later. He tricks her into meeting with him on the jet before the others show up, knowing she would never talk to him willingly about this in a setting where she can easily get up and leave. Emily looks caught, caged even, and it breaks his heart because currently, he's the one doing this to her; he, the person who's supposed to be her safe haven. She gets defensive, looking around the jet for a way to escape like a scared cat until he lists the conditions of the deal. There is just one, really - for her to be honest with him when she’s having a bad day. Emily agrees, and Aaron gets up from his seat to kiss her before the others get on the jet. Just because he can.
He can tell something’s happened in that interrogation right after it’s over. Emily is nowhere to be found, and his heart feels heavy in his chest, weighing him down like a rock. When he boards the jet, she’s alone, clearly waiting for him. His eyes are kind and sympathetic, and Emily can’t stand it; his understanding, his ability to be reasonable and calm and kind so she looks away before she can admit one of the hardest things in her life. The old Emily would never admit anything, but that Emily is gone. Gone and replaced by this new Emily, who is a mix of all her past selves and a stranger at the same time*.* Emily can’t say she knows this woman.
“I’m having a bad day,” she admits shakily.
For a second, Aaron looks surprised, as if he didn’t expect her to actually hold up her end of the deal. He stands up silently and then kneels before her, his hands grasping hers.
“How can I help, sweetheart?”
Emili blinks back tears. He’s too good to her.
“Can you, um,” she swallows around the lump in her throat. “Can you give me a couple of days off?”
“Of course,” he nods immediately. “I’ll take them off with you.”
“No,” Emily says quietly. “I want to...I need to be alone for some time, okay? Everything is too much right now.”
He looks confused and heartbroken at the same time, and Emily leans forward to kiss him before he can protest. She rests her forehead against his.
“Please, Aaron, please,” she whispers. “I need to think, to clear my head. It’ll help.”
“Can I call you?”
“Text me,” she kisses him again. Aaron stands up, pulling her up and into his arms. He’s scared, she can feel that in the way his hands are shaking on her back, how tightly he holds her.
“It’ll be okay,” he whispers into her hair, and Emily doesn’t know if he's trying to convince her or himself. She tries not to cry as she thinks about how much pain she causes him and how he doesn’t deserve any of this.
He does text her. Only she stops texting him back.
Everything is as fine as it can be for the first two days. They don’t get a case, which Aaron is grateful for, but at the same time it turns out to be pure torment, his personal living hell. All his thoughts go to Emily as she quickly becomes the only thing he can think about, no case offering him a much-needed distraction. He texts her three times a day even though his fingers itch to pick up his phone every hour. Sometimes he gets three replies, sometimes he gets two. Sometimes only one.
He’s worried. He’s so worried and everyone can see it. No one asks why Emily’s been given days off. They don’t need to - they saw how she was losing herself and that was evidence enough. But now everyone sees it affecting Aaron, their stoic, unflappable leader, who isn’t quite himself with concern in his eyes, a slight shake in his left hand. He rubs the pads of his fingers together and doesn’t even notice everyone sees him do it.
When on day three Aaron gets no replies from Emily at all, he starts slowly losing it. His brain is torn apart with questions and scary thoughts, and he can’t concentrate on files on his desk, his handwriting blurring before his eyes. A knock on his door makes him look up.
“Nothing?” Rossi asks letting himself into Aaron’s office and closing the door. He tries not to show it, but Aaron sees how concern for Emily’s well-being affects him too. Aaron shakes his head.
“You should go.”
Aaron scoffs, looking down at the desk again. “I can’t.”
“Yes you can,” Rossi insists, sitting down in a chair in front of it.
“She doesn’t want me to, Dave,” Aaron protests and runs a hand down his face, his stubble feeling rough under his fingers. “She wanted privacy and peace.”
“Aaron, listen to me,” Rossi says, an edge to his tone surprising Aaron and getting his attention. “This can take a dangerous turn really quickly. And when it comes to someone we love, we can’t afford that.”
Aaron blinks a couple of times before he nods and stands up. Rossi continues watching him with a serious expression as he puts the files into his briefcase and throws his coat over his arm, then gives him a final nod as the door closes. He knows he’ll only calm down when he knows Emily is alright. She’s like a daughter to him, after all.
Aaron opens the door to Emily’s apartment with his own key. It’s too silent, the air too stale as if no one has lived here for a while. He notices a mess of shoes and a coat in the living room, all thrown on the couch and untouched. Emily’s bag is there too. He opens it and takes out her phone charger, more than sure she’s forgotten where it was.
She hears it. The sound of her door opening and closing is unmistakable as it changes to soft footsteps around her living room and kitchen. Emily doesn’t know who it is but she can’t bring herself to care. She burrows deeper into her blankets and covers, even her head disappearing into this cocoon she’s made for herself. Curling tighter into a ball, she tries to block out any light that may find its way to her somehow, wanting nothing more than for the pounding in her head to stop. Maybe if there’s an intruder in her apartment everything would be much easier.
Her bedroom door opens, and Emily squeezes her eyes shut, another tear rolling down her cheek. She doesn’t want to see anyone.
“Emily?”
Aaron’s heart breaks at the sight he’s greeted with. The room is almost dark, only some lighting filtering through the curtains. There are clothes on the floor, some books from where they’ve been knocked over from the nightstand. His focus is on a mess of blankets on the bed, and he stands still until he hears a sob from under the covers.
“Em, sweetheart?”
Of course, it’s him. He’s there when she’s been ignoring him, everyone, really. He’s there with his endless kindness and understanding and about to see her like this. The inside of the cocoon smells like depression and body odor, and Emily is sure she herself isn’t any better. When has she last gotten out of bed or brushed her teeth? She can’t remember.
Aaron nearly steps on her phone as he crosses the room. It’s laying awkwardly next to a wall near the door, and he assumes it’s been thrown at that very wall. He gingerly lowers himself onto the bed and pulls at the covers as he hears another sob. Emily’s face comes into view, red and tear-streaked, and she tries to twist away from his gaze, his tenderness unbearable.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers, and Emily starts to cry in earnest. Aaron brings one of his hands to stroke her hair. “Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this bad? I could’ve helped.”
Emily opens her eyes, her eyelids heavy and swollen from so much crying. She looks at him for a second before closing them again and not even bothering to wipe a new tear away. He does it for her.
“It’s not that bad,” she rasps. “It’s going to go away. It always does. Just....give me a couple of days.”
Her words catch on a sob, and Aaron feels his own eyes sting. He strokes her hair for another minute, then stands up silently and begins to work on bringing her bedroom back to how it looked like before. Not a word of protest leaves his lips, and Emily knows she’s done it this time. She’s finally managed to push away the only person she wanted to keep close. Maybe she’s better off alone. He’s definitely better off without her.
That’s how it will end, she thinks. He will tidy up her room because he’s a gentleman even though she’s not his problem anymore, then he’ll kiss her forehead and leave, saying something along the lines of him being sorry it didn’t work out, her being too much and somehow not enough at the same time, his tone apologetic and soft. He’ll tell her to take her time, to rest some more before going back to work, and she will spend the next few days crying for another reason than right now. Then she’ll have to pull herself together to go to work again. Or maybe, she won’t go.
Every perfect summer's eating me alive until you're gone, better on my own
They say, "You're a little much for me, you're a liability, you're a little much for me"
So they pull back, make other plans, I understand, I'm a liability
Get you wild, make you leave, I'm a little much for everyone
They're gonna watch me disappear into the sun
She’s not entirely sure what makes her say it except for the guilt she feels. He’s done so much for her, was so gentle and understanding, but now she has to let him go. She just won’t be able to bear it if his departure is too sudden. He's picking up her books from the floor when he hears it, quiet and tentative, almost a whisper.
"You will tell me when you leave, right?"
Aaron stops with a book in hand, straightening his spine. He turns to her slowly, his mission forgotten, because there's something in her voice that worries him, and after a few days she's had he won't let anything slip past him.
"What?"
Emily is staring at the wall, her eyes still red and puffy, but she's not crying anymore. Her vacant gaze unsettles Aaron even more, and when she speaks her voice is not louder than before.
"You don't have to stay," she says, still not looking at him. "You can leave. Me, I mean."
It suddenly clicks in his head, and the book in his hand falls onto the carpet with a thud, his fingers relaxed from the flood of emotions in his chest. He gingerly moves closer to the bed and sits back down.
"Emily-"
"What I'm saying is," she continues, cutting him off with a sniffle. "It's okay if you leave, and I'd understand. You don't have to stay out of pity or...I don't know. Just promise you'll tell me in advance, so I can-"
Aaron takes her by the shoulders and rolls her onto her back. Emily looks at the ceiling, unable to stop one lone tear from rolling down her face. He wipes it away, and she closes her eyes, suppressing a flinch as if his touch burns her skin. His hand falls away, and Aaron feels his heart break into pieces, his love for her bursting forward. Aaron wants to shake her, find out why she can't see she's the light of his life, she and Jack, but he doesn't, knowing that in this state she's not going to believe him.
"Em," he says softly, but firmly. "I'm not leaving."
Emily slowly moves her gaze until their eyes lock and gives him the smallest and the saddest of smiles.
"Everyone says that," she whispers. "And then everyone leaves." Her eyes leave his again, and when she continues her voice breaks. "I don't blame them."
"I'm not everyone."
Emily looks back at him, that same smile making an appearance once again.
“You’re not,” she nods. “You’re so much better.”
“Sweetheart,” Aaron says and takes her hand, kisses her fingers, her palm. “I know you’re tired, you’re hurting, and you feel like it’s never going to get better. But I’m here, with you. And maybe it’s not what you need to hear right now, but,” he takes a deep breath, watching her close her eyes again. “I love you, Emily. I do. Please let me help.”
She gasps, eyes opening and locking with his. He sees so much fear and pain in them he feels like he might suffocate, his body feeling her emotions as his own. Aaron watches Emily’s face as her lower lip trembles again, and finally, she lets more tears fall, this time silent, bitter. It burns him from within.
“You shouldn’t,” she manages.
Aaron takes both of her hands in his and presses them onto his face. Her palms are warm on his cheeks, and he buries his face in them in an attempt to stave off his own tears. Emily feels him leaving kisses on her skin, his lips whispering something against it, tracing veins in her wrists.
“I do,” he repeats. “I love you.”
“No,” she whispers. “You'll end up seeing me the way I see myself. You’ll get burned. Matthew loved me and it ruined his life. And he wasn’t the only one. I can’t let that happen to you.”
Aaron knows what she means, knows how she sees herself as the poison that seeps into the blood of those she loves and those who make the mistake of loving her back, ruining them. But he won’t let her think like that.
“It won’t happen to me, Emily. It won’t, I promise.”
“You can’t promise me that,” she replies and opens her eyes to look at him.
“Maybe I can’t,” he concedes. “But I can promise to stay.”
Emily looks at him for a moment, eyes tracing his features as if she’s trying to burn them into her memory.
“Are you sure?”
It comes out so quiet, so unsure, it makes him ache. His face falls as he kisses her hands again.
“I’ve never been more sure. I’m staying until you won’t want me to anymore,” he says calmly, slowly, and pauses before continuing. “I love you. And I’ll wait for you to trust me.”
Emily sobs again, her eyes drifting closed as her chest shakes. Aaron leans down to press his lips to her forehead.
“I’ll go start the shower for you,” he whispers against her skin. “Be right back.”
Her legs are unsteady as Aaron helps her out of the bed, supporting almost her entire weight, his arm around her waist. Once her shirt is off, he throws it in the hamper, then puts his arms around her, hugging her close. His heart breaks as she simply stares ahead, dried tears still visible on her cheeks. Aaron helps her under the hot water, his whole body itching for him to get in with her when she flinches slightly, but he stops himself, not wanting to overstep, to ruin those delicate boundaries she’s built around herself. Instead, he leans on the shower wall from the outside, watches her slow movements, makes sure she continues with her task. When Emily stares into nothing for a second too long, he speaks.
“Shampoo, sweetheart,” he says quietly, smiling gently when her eyes snap up to his. “Jack asked about you.”
Emily looks up at him, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips, and he stops breathing for a second, hoping he didn’t upset her. When she starts shampooing her hair, she nods, looking down at her feet.
“I miss him.”
“He’ll be home from the camp on Friday, we can go pick him up from Jess’s then.”
Emily nods again, wiping a new tear away. Aaron just points at the conditioner bottle and keeps talking about Jack, about how he’s almost talked his ear off about the camp, about how much he missed him and Emily. When she’s done, she practically falls into the towel Aaron is holding in his arms, and he wraps her up in his embrace.
“Thank you.”
Her voice is merely a whisper, and it breaks his heart. He can feel her legs shaking, so he kisses her head quickly and starts drying her with the towel.
“Always.”
He leaves her in the bathroom to brush her teeth, making sure she’s seated on the toilet lid and not standing before the door closes behind him. When she walks back into her bedroom, she stops for a second, stunned into silence: the curtains are open, allowing sunlight into her apartment, some of it hitting the bed; the sheets are clearly fresh. His sweatshirt is laying on top of her comforter instead of the worn pajamas she’s been wearing for three days. Aaron walks back in with a phone in his hand, offering her a kind smile she’s not sure she deserves.
“I’ve ordered some food from that Chinese place you love,” he says, coming up to her and tucking some hair behind her ear. “I’m gonna have to get some vegetables in you tomorrow though.”
Emily chuckles, but then her eyes fill up with tears again, and Aaron is quick to hug her, press her into his chest, strong arms tightening around her frame in an attempt to make her feel safe, to hold together all the broken parts of her until they grow back together. She holds on to him just as tightly, her hands fisting his shirt on his chest as she cries silently, her tears burning right through him, reaching his heart.
Aaron walks them to the freshly made bed and lies down, then makes sure they’re both under the covers. Emily holds on to him just the same, clings to him as if he’s her lifeline, the only thing that keeps her tethered to life. And maybe he is.
She puts her face into the crook of his neck, her forehead just under his jaw.
"God, Aaron, I'm so sorry," she mumbles into him, wiping away the tears that are immediately replaced. "You didn't sign on for this. You just wanted a normal girlfriend, and now-"
Aaron pulls back and cups her face, making her look at him, her eyes sad and shiny.
"Em, I didn't want a normal girlfriend," he says quietly but firmly, using his free hand to make air quotes. "I didn't even want a girlfriend. I wanted you."
Emily takes a shaky breath and closes her eyes, more tears spilling from under long lashes. He wipes them away gently and holds her tighter when she presses her face into his neck again.
“I love you too, you know,” she whispers after a pause, her voice so quiet he almost misses it. His hands briefly still on her back but then start moving again, and Aaron feels more tears against his neck. He kisses her hair, squeezing his eyes shut, the mere thought of her battling herself this much to be brave for him like a knife to his heart.
“I know,” he whispers back and Emily pulls back a little to look at him. “You tried to protect me even if it meant losing everything you had. You do something like that only for someone you love.”
She sniffles and nods, eyes downcast. Aaron reaches down and brings her face back up with a hand on her cheek.
“I love you, Emily. So much.”
It’s not a smile, not really, just a corner of her lip curling up the tiniest bit, but his heart sings. He kisses her forehead, and then her face is back in the crook of his neck. Emily falls asleep like that only a couple of minutes later, and Aaron feels like someday everything will be alright again.