When Ashes Fall

by Marni Mann

But that didn’t excuse her from ignoring me.

  “I deserved a response, Alix.”

  She circled the bottle over the armrest. “There are times when I just won’t be able to give you one.”

  I sighed, shaking my head.

  That answer wasn’t good enough.

  Not when I’d been waiting hours to hear from my girlfriend, not knowing if she was dead or alive.

  “You work through the night and in some of the worst parts of town. You don’t get to choose when you can and can’t write back to me. You pick up that goddamn phone, and you let me know you’re all right.”

  “I couldn’t.” Her voice turned sharper. “I had blood all the way up to here.” She pointed at her elbow and then said, “And I didn’t want to get it all over my phone.”

  I’d caused the snappiness in her voice, not the patient.

  But I just wanted her to understand what tonight had been like for me.

  “I’ve been texting you for hours, Alix. I can’t imagine you were covered in blood that entire time.”

  She was quiet for several seconds, her thumb sliding up and down the glass. “Dylan, I don’t think you have any idea what I do for a living. The lives I’m responsible for. The duties I have to perform on a minute-by-minute basis.” Her expression softened. “I can’t just pause in the middle of inserting an IV or stop performing CPR to answer my phone. I’m out there to save lives, and that’s all I’m trying to do.”

  I understood that.

  And I respected it.

  But she was missing the point.

  “All I’m asking is for you to be a little sympathetic when it comes to my fears.”

  “It isn’t always about you.” She immediately stood and moved into the archway of the room, leaning her shoulder against the molding. “I don’t know what you want from me.” Her voice was so fucking quiet.

  She was hurting.

  And I was only making it worse.

  I stood and moved over to her, putting my hands on her waist. “You’re tired,” I said as I pulled her against me. “You had a long shift, and it wasn’t an easy one. Why don’t you go upstairs and take a hot shower? And we’ll talk about this in the morning during our drive to Maine.” I kissed the top of her head, breathing in her lemon scent. It came from the ambulance and the chemicals they used to keep it clean and the antibacterial gel she lathered over her hands.

  “We’re not going to Maine tomorrow.”

  I squeezed her a little tighter and waited for her to glance up at me. “The realtor found us a house to look at in Bar Harbor, so I booked us a suite at our favorite hotel. We’re going to leave in the morning.”

  “I can’t go.”

  I leaned back, making sure I could read her expression correctly. “Why can’t you?”

  “I picked up two extra shifts, so I have the next twelve hours off, and then I’ll work forty-eight hours straight.”

  My stare shifted between her eyes, and when I saw she wasn’t bullshitting me, I said, “Why the fuck would you do that?”

  She wiggled out of my grip and took several steps back. “Why wouldn’t I? You canceled our trip, and we had nothing planned. They were offering holiday pay, and I need the money to help go toward the down payment on the house.”

  I hated when she said that.

  All she had to do was ask, and I’d give her anything she wanted.

  That included paying off her student loans—something I’d offered to do many times and I was always turned down.

  I never complained when she took extra shifts.

  But, this time, it was interfering with my plans.

  “Tell them you’re no longer able to work.”

  Her hands went to her hips. “I’m not going to do that.”

  “You don’t want to go to Maine?”

  “This has nothing to do with Maine, Dylan. This has to do with you respecting my job.” She took another step, her back now pressed against the wall. “I’m not you. I can’t just call and say I’m not coming in. If I don’t show up, they’ll be short-staffed, and people can go untreated.”

  “They’ll find someone else to cover it.”

  “They don’t need to.”

  “Make this about us, Alix.”

  She turned silent.

  And both of us took several deep breaths.

  She was the first to break when she said, “I’d like to at least see some pictures of the house.”

  I ran my hand over the whiskers on my cheek. “That’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  “Why?”

  “I upped our budget and added a few additional requirements.”

  “Was the size one?”

  I nodded.

  “No, Dylan.” Her face dropped, her eyes now focused on the ground.

  I’d lost her.

  “Hear me out,” I said, waiting for her to look at me again. “I want an investment home in Maine, and I can’t have that with the budget you’ve given me. Since we’ll only be there during the summer, I want to rent the place for the remainder of the year. With that in mind, the realtor found a house that fulfills what I need.”

  “You promised.”

  She sounded hurt.

  She didn’t need to be.

  She was getting Maine, she was getting me away from my office for several months at a time, and she was getting a house that would be so much nicer than the kind she wanted to buy.

  “I did; you’re right, but that was before I saw what rentals were going for in Bar Harbor.”

  One of her hands clung to the molding while the other moved to her chest. “Small, intimate, and cozy, so you’re always close to me.”

  “Quaint isn’t going to make me money, Alix.”

  “For once, that’s not what this home is about. It’s supposed to be a place we decide on together where I can pay half of the mortgage.”

  “You can still contribute.”

  “Contribute? Are you even listening to yourself?”

  I laughed at the dig. “Now, you’re just trying to ruin the night.”

  “You’re an asshole,” she snapped, and she walked to the stairs.

  “You’re not the only one who had a shitty day.”

  She stopped halfway up and turned toward me. “Because signing up millionaires to fly with you is so incredibly stressful.”

  “That’s uncalled for.”

  “You know what’s uncalled for? The three deaths I witnessed tonight. Two because my CPR wasn’t able to revive them and a third because I couldn’t climb ten flights of stairs fast enough, and the elevator wasn’t working. Those three faces are what I’ll see when I go to bed; the cries from their families are what will keep me up all night.” She gripped the banister, emotion suddenly filling her eyes. “I’ve only ever asked you for two things: more time together and a small house in Maine. And you couldn’t even give those to me.”

  She climbed the rest of the stairs and slammed a door.

  Later, after I left my home office, I saw which one it was.

  It was the guest room.

  I jiggled the handle to open it.

  She had locked it.

  She wanted me out.

  So, that night, we slept in separate beds.

  As I climbed into the king-size we usually shared, knowing she was just a few rooms down the hall, something hit me so fucking hard.

  Alix and I weren’t perfect.

  We had cracks.

  And, as the months passed, I learned some deepened while others got filled in.

  I also learned that wasn’t the last night I’d sleep alone.

  Twenty-Four

  Alix

  Present Day

  My date with Smith had started almost twelve hours ago.

  It still wasn’t over.

  Following the cake we’d had for brunch, we went for coffee by the harbor and rode bikes through the Public Garden. We visited the Public Library and had French fries at my favorite pushcart outside Quincy Market. Then, I finis
hed the evening with a Red Sox game, snagging us seats in the Green Monster.

  After the win against the Blue Jays, we grabbed gelato several blocks past the stadium, carrying the small cups to a bench that overlooked the busier part of Lansdowne Street.

  I was surprised by how fast today had flown by.

  And how I found Smith so easy to talk to.

  I hadn’t told him anything too personal—I certainly never brought up Dylan—but the things I had said came out so comfortably.

  Now, half a day had passed since I picked him up at his townhouse, and I wasn’t looking for an excuse to go home.

  I was enjoying these moments.

  All of them.

  Even the one we were about to have, which was a conversation I’d been avoiding. When Smith had mentioned his best friend earlier today, I could tell the topic hurt him.

  But I still had to know.

  And, with it being so late, I was running out of chances to ask him. “How’s Joe doing?”

  He took the spoon out of his mouth. “It’s ugly, the whole situation. After everything I’ve gone through with my mom, seeing Joe like this is fucking killing me.”

  “He’s using?”

  “Minutes after I brought him home.” He shook his head as though he was remembering what that had looked like. “He’s supposed to go to rehab in a few days. I’m positive he won’t.”

  “Maybe, once he hits rock bottom, he’ll change his mind.”

  “He lost his wife, and he’s about to lose his kids.”

  I’d treated hundreds of addicts.

  I knew this disease better than anyone.

  “Trust me, Smith; it can get much worse.”

  He was quiet for several seconds before he said, “You know what hurts the most?”

  “That you can’t do anything about it?”

  He nodded, and the look in his eyes emphasized his answer even more.

  “I’m sorry.” I held the cup of gelato against my lap. “The helplessness can feel so overwhelming, I know.”

  There was nothing in my mouth when I started grinding my teeth together.

  No gelato, not even the spoon.

  I was just rubbing enamel over enamel.

  And it had everything to do with the tingling inside my chest.

  Vulnerability was the most attractive trait in a man.

  I never saw it in Dylan.

  And, now, I’d seen it multiple times in Smith.

  “What’s your best friend like?” he asked.

  Rose.

  The perfect distraction.

  “Honestly, she’s like a bull in a china shop.” I laughed at the description I’d used. “She’s brutally honest and unfiltered and the most loyal person in this world.”

  “I want to meet her.”

  I hadn’t expected him to say that.

  Rose would love the idea.

  And she would love him.

  The thought of that blew my mind.

  Because of Dylan.

  Because we had just spent last night together, and now, I was on a date with Smith.

  And I’d taken him to the places I frequented most in the city.

  Spots that meant something to me.

  Like the French fry vendor outside Quincy Market.

  And then, tonight, I would hopefully be with Dylan again.

  This was fucked.

  On so many different levels.

  But that didn’t stop me from smiling at Smith and saying, “I’m sure I can make that happen.”

  He glanced past me down the long street, and I watched him take in the people who passed us, slowly spooning in several mouthfuls of gelato.

  Then, he turned his head once more, and our eyes locked. “I was hoping you had the ability to change my mind about Boston.”

  Heat pooled into my face. “Did I?”

  “Yes.” When he exhaled, I heard the air come through his nose. “I want to see you again, Alix.”

  I glanced away but still felt his stare on me.

  Something inside me was aching.

  Breaking.

  Screaming.

  Because I wanted to see him again, too.

  And it was wrong.

  So fucking wrong.

  But, with Dylan not here to stop me, I gazed back up at him, chewing the inside of my cheek, and said, “I’d really like that.”

  “When are you free?”

  I thought of my schedule and replied, “Two nights from now.”

  “Dinner?”

  I grinned. “Only if we can start with cake.”

  “I have a better idea.” He tossed the gelato container into the trash bin next to our bench and faced his body toward me. “Let’s eat at my place. I’ll cook.”

  His place.

  An intimate space.

  With just the two of us.

  “You cook?” I asked.

  “I had to feed my sister, so that forced me to learn.”

  More vulnerability.

  More redness seeping into my cheeks.

  “I haven’t mastered my way around the kitchen,” I told him.

  “I’ll teach you.”

  I wanted to be Smith’s student.

  I wanted to watch him do something he enjoyed.

  The same way I had watched Dylan fly.

  This was another moment.

  And I felt the celebration in every part of my body.

  “Dinner at your place sounds fun,” I finally answered.

  His stare intensified.

  Sensations began to pound inside of me—more tingles, more bursts, more electricity that shot into every muscle.

  I stood and walked to the trash bin several feet away.

  I needed space.

  I needed air.

  I needed to tame these feelings before they became out of control.

  The half-eaten gelato was tossed into the bin, and as I turned back toward where he was sitting, I quietly gasped.

  He’d left the bench.

  He’d followed me.

  And, now, he was directly in front of me.

  In my space.

  Taking all of my air.

  “There’s something about you, Alix …”

  I was frozen.

  I wasn’t even sure I was breathing.

  “What is it?”

  He gazed at me.

  He didn’t even blink.

  “I don’t know, but I can’t seem to get enough of it.”

  When I broke contact to look at the ground, he stepped forward, and I felt his hand on my face.

  I heard myself gasp again.

  It was so quiet.

  And so loud inside my head.

  I didn’t pull his fingers away.

  But I lifted my chin.

  That was when I heard his exhale again.

  He was fighting something.

  I knew it had to do with me.

  I watched as he pushed through it.

  As he moved closer.

  As his other hand lifted in the air and landed on the other side of my face.

  “Smith …”

  “Don’t stop me.” His voice was filled with so much passion.

  His neck bent toward me.

  His mouth was now inches away.

  I should wiggle out of his grip.

  I should take several steps back.

  I should tell him I couldn’t do this.

  But I didn’t.

  Because I wanted this.

  My eyes closed.

  I sucked in some air.

  And I felt the warmth of his fingers as he gripped me even harder, pulling me the last bit of distance before there was none between our faces.

  It was just skin against skin.

  It felt like so much more than that.

  The tension in my body left.

  My limbs turned numb.

  The only thing remaining was the prickling in my chest.

  As I breathed past it, I reached forward and put my hands just below his neck.


  He felt different than Dylan.

  Relief caused my fingers to tighten, and I clenched the polo between them.

  My lips parted.

  I took in his tongue, circling it with mine.

  Dylan’s scent was bold and spicy.

  Smith’s was gentle and enticing.

  Both drew me in.

  Both held me.

  Both made me want more.

  It felt so good to inhale Smith’s cologne.

  And it made me miss Dylan’s.

  God.

  Still gripping his shirt, I used it to pull his body against me.

  Our torsos clicked like puzzle pieces.

  My arms wrapped around his neck.

  It felt perfect.

  That was a terrifying thought.

  And an exhilarating one.

  I felt the power in his hands, the movement of his tongue, and my mind went to a place where they were on my skin.

  Our kiss deepened.

  And I wondered …

  Can I really have an affair with this man?

  I knew that answer immediately.

  But the questions didn’t end there.

  There was one more.

  Could I fall in love with him?

  As I considered it, Smith’s lips slowly left mine.

  The warmth from him stayed, and so did the taste of him on my tongue.

  His nose rested against my cheek, and the hand that had been there was now circling my waist.

  He was fighting something again.

  So was I.

  “I’m going to order you a ride home,” he said, pulling back to look in my eyes. “As much as I want to get in that car, I’m not going to.”

  Gentle.

  Even more enticing.

  And, now, I could add patient to that list.

  Before I had an opportunity to respond, he added, “This is the second best day I’ve ever had in Boston.”

  My palms slid down his neck and stopped at his chest.

  The hardness of his muscles made my face turn even hotter.

  “What was the first?” I asked.

  “The day I moved my sister into her dorm at Northeastern.”

  I knew then …

  Without any doubt …

  I was in so much trouble.

  Twenty-Five

  Alix

  Present Day

  Rose: I’m up for work, staring at my phone, wondering why there’s no text from you. Unless you’re still with him? In that case, you’re forgiven. But, if that isn’t the case and your ass went home alone and you didn’t text me, you’re in serious trouble, lady.