Emette’s pov
The same damn message kept lighting up my phone screen, no matter how many times I ignored it.
I sighed, long and heavy, thumb hovering before I finally powered the device off. My adoptive parents again. Come home, Emmett. We can help you become normal again. The words burned like acid in my chest. I pressed my palm hard against my face, fingers digging into my temples as if I could squeeze the frustration out. Why couldn’t everything just be simple for once? Other people fell in love, fought, made up—without the whole world acting like their hearts were a disease. But me? My sexuality was everyone’s problem. A flaw that needed fixing.
The low rumble of a car pulling into the driveway cut through the quiet. Damon. My stomach twisted with a sharp mix of longing and dread. We
