— and I had to deal with this, with something that I wasn’t ready to deal with just yet. I thought that I could ignore you, or make you not like me or not want to have anything to do with me. But the more I got to know you, the more I realized that, while you look like Victoria, you and she are completely different. You are your own person.
“That night, when you were crying in your room and I saw you, I felt myself reaching out to you. I haven’t had any sort of relationship after Victoria died, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about you, Emily. But that night I knew I wanted to help you. I wanted to hold you, and comfort you. And when we hugged in the garage, and I felt you in my arms … I found I couldn’t let go. That was the first time I’d made love to anyone since Victoria died.
“But it was too much. I couldn’t deal with it. I didn’t understand these emotions that I was feeling — I thought that part of me had died along with her. So I escaped back into my work. I tried to avoid you, and make you dislike me again. But I couldn’t stop what I felt for you. It only grew stronger, despite the little amount of time I spent with you — during our family dinners, for example.
“When we had to do dishes together that one night and we made love again, I swear I felt as though I was really, truly happy for the first time in a long time. But being with you, again — it brought up those feelings in me, and with those feelings came shame. Shame for being happy when Victoria was dead. And shame for using you the way that I was.
“So I ran away, and this time I didn’t stop at the garage. I took that bike. This God-damned Harley Davidson,” he stares contempt at the vehicle, “and I rode. I didn’t put on a helmet, because I never do, but it was dark. And I couldn’t stop crying, and my tears blurred the turn ahead of me, and … well, you know what happened.
“Emily, I’m so, so sorry. These past three weeks I should have been talking to you, but I didn’t know what to say. So I worked instead. And as I worked I started thinking, and the more I thought, the more I realized how strongly I felt about you. And how I wanted to make something for you, Emily, and the only thing I could think was the only thing I was doing in here. So I made you this car. The bike,” he lets out a sarcastic laugh, “is something that I think I’ll never be able to fix. But I hope that I can fix what’s happened between us, Emily. I hope that you can forgive me, one day, for how I’ve been treating you.”
He stops talking and Emily, whose face is now streaked with tears, rushes forward as she wraps her arms around Blair. She feels his body stiffen at first … and then relax. He wraps his arms around her and holds her in return, the two breathing and crying together. Emily’s heart is full for this man, this man who she knew she could never give up on. She feels him squeeze her tighter and she squeezes him back, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck.
“Oh, Emily,” she hears him say into her hair. Emily feels hot tears flow down her cheeks as Blair’s lips find their way to the side of her neck, kissing her softly, tenderly. Her body melts into her stepbrother’s as she turns her head, meeting his lips with her own. They hold tightly to one another, mouths pressed together. Emily feels Blair breathing against her, his body expanding and contracting, moving with a strong, solid fluidity.
Suddenly Blair pulls back from the kisses, and Emily opens her eyes to see him looking into her, his eyelashes speckled with countless tiny drops.
“Come here,” he says, and he takes her by the hand, leading her towards her new car. He opens the driver’s side door and releases the catch on the seat, making it bow forward. Emily allows herself to be lead inside, where it smells of new upholstery with a subtler fragrance, almost a hint of something underneath: Blair .
She gets into the back seat and Blair follows,