Cole's head came up sharp. What do you mean it does this? How long has it been doing this? It's nothing, Emily. He said her name, her real name, the name she told him 90 seconds ago, and it stopped her.
How long? She looked up at him, and for just a moment, the wall she kept up the wall that had let her hide this for months. The wall behind which she carried everything alone so it would never become anyone else's burden. For just a moment, that wall cracked. Months, she whispered. The garage went dead silent.
Months, Cole repeated. He looked down at her leg at her white-knuckled hands wrapped around a knee that clearly could not hold her weight. And something moved across his face that was almost like grief. "You've been walking around this shop for months, hauling parts up and down those stairs, and your leg does this. And you never said a word to anybody." "It's not anyone's problem but mine," Emily said.
And even now, even on the floor, even in that much pain, she said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it was a rule she'd built her whole life around. I can't afford to get it looked at and I need the job. So, I just I manage it. I've been managing it. "I was managing it fine until—"
"Until you got down on the floor of my garage to fix my bike," Cole said.
She didn't answer. She didn't have to. Every man in that room did the math at the same time. She'd knelt down on that concrete floor on a knee that gave out with no warning to fix a motorcycle for a man who'd never learned her name. And getting up off that floor was what had done this to her.
She'd hidden the pain long enough to finish the job and hide the evidence and get back to her counter. And then she'd stood there through the whole confrontation, through Cole's fury, through the accusation, through I'd do it again. All of it on a leg that was screaming at her the entire time.
Reese was the one who said it quiet and low almost to himself. "My god, she was hurting the whole time." Cole didn't take his eyes off her.
"Cody, call an ambulance." "No," Emily said instantly, and her hand shot out and gripped Cole's forearm with surprising strength. "No, no ambulance, please. I can't.
Do you have any idea what an ambulance costs?" "I can't pay for that. I can't.