Embry didn’t really have many great love stories in his life to look up to. His father had left them behind, breaking his own heart in search of better things. And his mother refused to acknowledge it at all; she was better alone, with a straight face. Never forgiving, but never allowing it to hurt.

This just became a part of Embry. He never counted himself as a cynic, never believed that love didn’t exist. It just wasn’t worth the risk, at least not for him. Loneliness is a fine alternative.

It’s just that… sometimes, the way his best friend looks at him or the way they laugh together erases that loneliness. It feels like a bit of a dream, one he can’t quite let go of.

Maybe it’s just the exception that proves the rule. Or the one that breaks it altogether.