There’s a particular kind of heartbreak that doesn’t come from betrayal or final goodbyes—but from the haunting ache of almost. Of what could have been. It’s the invisible wound left by an emotional affair—the kind that doesn’t involve a bed, but does involve the soul.
In Finding Scarlet by Kirsten Pursell, the title character finds herself caught in the storm of such a connection. Carter isn’t just an old high school crush. He becomes a lifeline during a time when her marriage is already unraveling. Their bond is deep, layered with nostalgia, flirtation, and the kind of understanding that makes you feel seen. They never sleep together. But she knows, and we know, that the emotional lines crossed left deeper scars than any physical act might have.
Emotional affairs are complex. They’re often dismissed or downplayed because there’s no tangible evidence. No lipstick on the collar. No secret hotel rooms. But that doesn’t mean they’re harmless. In fact, they can be more damaging precisely because they reach into the most sacred parts of us—our thoughts, our hopes, our unmet needs.
Scarlet doesn’t fall for Carter out of lust. She falls because she’s starved for connection. She’s been living in a marriage of routine and silence, craving to be wanted, to be noticed, to feel alive again. Carter offers that—and more. In their late-night texts and emotional confessions, she finds a version of herself she thought she’d lost.
And then, he walks away.
That’s the thing about “almost.” It leaves a mess without closure. It doesn’t give you the relief of finality. It offers no healing arc, only a lingering what if. Carter doesn’t leave because he doesn’t care. He leaves because he can’t go through with it—and in doing so, he wounds Scarlet even more. She isn’t just mourning what they didn’t have. She’s mourning what she allowed herself to hope for.
Kirsten Pursell masterfully explores this nuance in Finding Scarlet. She doesn’t vilify the emotional affair. She lets it be what it is: complicated, thrilling, shameful, honest, and deeply human.
Because the truth is, emotional affairs don’t just reveal cracks in a relationship. They reveal the cracks in ourselves—the spaces where we feel unseen, unloved, unworthy. And in some cases, those affairs wake us up. Not necessarily to pursue another person, but to finally choose ourselves.
Scarlet’s affair didn’t end in passion. It ended in heartbreak. But it also propelled her into the next chapter of her life—one where she stopped waiting to be chosen and began choosing herself. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the hardest and most beautiful thing to do after almost.
