by Carian Cole
Is there?
This could all be too much for her, and there’s not much here to make her stay and weather these storms. She might care about me and like being around me, but let’s face it, coming home with me hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park for her. She doesn’t remember me or us. The foundation we spent years building doesn’t exist in her world. She could walk away and start over with a whole new life, leaving all the ghosts and confusion behind her.
Cold fear rips through me.
I gently grip her shoulders, meeting her eyes. “At least let me drive you. I’ll come back for you whenever you’re ready. Or I’ll leave the car with you, and I’ll rent a car to get home.”
“No.” Her chin quivers in subtle defiance. “I think I need to do this alone. For me.”
The pleading in her eyes convinces me I have to let her go. It’s killing me inside, but I understand why she needs to. She’s right—she’s an adult, my equal. She’s capable of going out in the world without me, just like she used to.
The difference is, back then, she couldn’t wait to come back home to me. Now, I’m not so sure. The unbreakable bond we once shared is gone. I feel like I’m back in her hospital room, not knowing if she’s ever going to come back to me.
We lock eyes for a few moments, trading fears and hopes, regrets and wishes.
“I’ll be okay.” She clutches the handle of her suitcase. “You will be too.”
As much as I don’t want her to go, I can’t deny that the strength and confidence she’s showing is important. It means she’s getting better and stronger emotionally. I can’t stand in the way of her growth and recovery, even if it’s destroying me, shattering the illusion of the picture-perfect life I thought we’d be resuming.
I was so focused on Ember that I never considered how my own fucked-up emotional damage might jam up our wheels of progress.
Silently, I walk her and Teddy down to the garage and load their things up in her car. Before she climbs into the driver’s seat, I pull her into a tight hug, and she hugs me back just as tight, burying her face into my neck. Her warm lips press against the side of my throat and linger there, giving me a small amount of hope.
“I’ll call you when I get there,” she says after she pulls away.
Touching her chin, I tilt her head up for a soft, long kiss, moving my hand to gently caress her cheek.
“I love you, Em.”
She nods, her eyes teary, as she stares up at me. “I know.”
“You never say it back,” I say softly.
“Ash, if you really looked…if you could really see me, I think you’d already know everything you want to hear. You’d know, without a doubt, without a word, that I love you. You’d let yourself feel it. That’s way more important than words.”
She smiles faintly and climbs in the car. As she backs out of the garage, I silently beg her to stop, get out of the car, and run back to me. She doesn’t, though, and all I can do is wave as she pulls down the street and disappears into a tiny red dot.
My chest tightens. The house looms around me, screaming in its emptiness. I’m alone again. There won’t be any teas, board games, or dances on the balcony. No giggles and fuzzy, wagging tails. I won’t be able to watch her as she paints, see the graceful movement of her wrist with the brush. The way she bites her lip as she’s concentrating. I’ll be sleeping alone again, waking up to memories instead of her adorable, sleepy smile.
I don’t know if I can go through this again.
I’m tempted to jump on my motorcycle and follow her. Catch her at a red light and beg her to come home. Kiss her until she realizes we’re so close to getting there—that we can get through this together.
I can’t do that, though. No matter how gutted I am that she chose to leave and put space between us. She has to come back on her own, when she’s ready.
And I need time to think too.
It’s the only way we’ll both know where to go from here.
As I go back inside the house to face the empty rooms, my feet feel as if they’re encased in concrete. I don’t want to be here without her, not even for an hour, let alone a few days or weeks. When I reach the door to my studio—the only place in the house I can bear being in right now—I suddenly remember something, and I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face. I shake my head a little.
It may have been years ago, but I remember the day as if it were yesterday, when she said those exact same words to me just as she said them before driving away.
She still loves me.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Visiting Maine has been nice, and spending time with my sister has been even nicer. Asher was right when he told me Katherine’s beachside inn was beautiful and peaceful. Inspired by the view, and needing to keep my mind busy, I worked on a few new paintings from her porch. I beamed when my sister asked if she could have the paintings to display in the reception area.
Katherine has gradually coaxed me to walk on the beach with her, with Teddy in tow with his favorite ball. Each day we walked a little bit closer to the water, but I refused to let it wash up over my bare feet.
Maybe I can work on that and eventually get to a point where the water doesn’t make my heart pound wildly with such terror that I can barely breathe. Hopefully, someday, Asher and I will come here together, and I can dip my toes in the water with him by my side. I have a feeling doing it together would be good for him too.
“You don’t have to leave, you know,” Katherine says from the doorway of the guest room I’ve been staying in. “You can stay as long as you want.”
I like this room with its rich, Victorian decor and windows overlooking the beach. Katherine told me it’s the same room Kenzi always slept in when she stayed here. Now that I’ve spent time at the inn and gotten to know Katherine even better, I’m grateful Kenzi was able to spend so much time here growing up.
I’ve enjoyed my visit this past week, but it’s not home. That’s what I was hoping to feel—the pull to go back to my husband and my own house. I’ve felt it every moment since I drove away.
“I know.” I smile when she squeezes my shoulder before she sits on the bed next to the suitcase I’m packing, which has more clothes in it now than I came with. “I love it here, and it’s very tempting to stay and eat your amazing breakfast every morning. But I think it’s time for me to go home and figure things out.”
She crosses her legs and nods. “I agree, and I’m proud of you. You can come back anytime you want, for as long as you want. Alone or with Asher.” She pets Teddy, who’s planted himself at her feet. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to come here, Ember. It means a lot to me that we’re rebuilding our relationship.”
“Me too.” It’s the truth. I still don’t have any memories of Katherine, but it’s been easy and natural to ease into a relationship with her. I can honestly say, I feel a sisterly bond with her.
“Do you know what you’re going to do when you get back home?”
Shutting the overstuffed suitcase, I chew my lip, knowing exactly what she’s alluding to. I’ll be driving back home tomorrow, and although Asher and I have talked on the phone every day, we’ve kept the conversations light, avoiding the elephant we left in our bedroom.
“No,” I reply. “Not yet. But I have some ideas.”
“Remember what we talked about. You have choices. I love Asher, he’s family, and I know how much he loves you. But you’re the priority. You can do anything you want with your life. You can be the person you want to be. You have to be able to look in the mirror every day and be happy with who you see, and the people you’re close to should be happy with that person too.”
She’s been giving me great advice all week, as has my therapist via daily video chats, but just now, Katherine’s words resonate deeply in me, stirring up a little spark in my soul.
“Hey, baby.” The sexy, affectionate tone of his voice when he answers my call makes my heart swell with a burst of butterflies.
“H
i.” I move to the window and spot one of Katherine’s visiting couples walking hand-in-hand along the beach under the moonlight.
I want that to be us someday.
“I just finished packing, so I’m ready to leave in the morning.”
“I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me too. I miss you.”
“I miss you. And Teddy too.” He pauses, his breathing the only sound between us. “Em, we should talk when you get home. About…everything.”
So much everything. Us. Our future. Our past. Our feelings. Our struggles. Where do we go from here?
I grip the phone a little tighter. “I know. We have a lot to figure out, don’t we?”
“We do,” he says softly. “But I don’t think any of it is insurmountable. I think if we’re patient and keep talking to each other honestly, we’ll get through this. We both have a lot of healing to do, but I know without a doubt, I want to do it together.”
“I do too, Ash. I really do.”
Later, as I lie in bed, fear and worry keep me awake well past midnight. My brain and heart are racing with anxiety. With each day that goes by, I lose hope that my memories—all my memories—are going to come back. I don’t think I’ll ever truly think of myself as Ember Valentine. Which I can accept. I can move on with my new self and the new path I’m on, and I think I can be very happy. The wrinkle is that I want to have a life with Asher, but I’m not sure he’s capable of letting go of pre-accident Ember or separating the images and memories of coma-Ember from me.
I desperately need him to see me when he looks at me, touches me, and says he loves me.
Hours later, I’m still awake, chewing my fingernail down to the flesh. As the sun is rising, I get out of bed and dig the pocket notebook out of my purse. I pull out the black business card still hidden there and stare at it for several minutes.
My fingers tremble as I dial the numbers embossed on the card, and the call is picked up, voiceless, on the third ring.
I can hear him breathing, though.
“Redwood?”
“Ember.”
A shiver ripples up my spine at the sound of his deep voice saying my name. With no question. No doubt.
But with expectation, as if he’s been waiting for this call.
“I was hoping maybe you could help me with something? You said I could call you if—”
“If you need something? Or someone who understands?”
“Yes. I really need to talk to someone who’s been through this.”
A few moments of awkward silence tick by.
“Choose one word to describe what you need.”
What possessed me to call him? I should just hang up, tear his card into little tiny pieces, and get a new plan.
I should do those things, but I don’t.
Taking a deep breath, I pick my word.
“Change.”
He lets out a deep chuckle. “Intriguing. Grab a pen. I’ll tell you where to find me.”
Chapter Forty
Ember should be home from her trip to Maine any minute, and I’ve been standing in front of one of the second-floor windows like an idiot for about half an hour, watching the street and debating with myself on the best way to greet her.
Do I meet her in the garage when she pulls in? Open her car door for her and help her bring her suitcase in?
Wait in the living room, pretending to watch a movie, and casually look up when she walks in the room as if I haven’t been counting the minutes to see her again?
Should I go down to my studio and try to look super busy and distracted if she comes to find me, so I don’t look desperate?
What the hell is wrong with me?
“What are you doing?”
I jolt at the unexpected sound of Tor’s voice.
“Waiting for Ember to come home.” I turn to face him. “What’s up?”
“Kenzi sent me over to snag some eggs. She’s making cookies.”
“Are you kidding?”
“About which part?”
“You don’t have eggs?” I can’t remember a day I didn’t have a carton of eggs in the fridge. “Should I be worried?”
“I dunno.” He shrugs. “Is running out of eggs a sign of the apocalypse or something?”
“No, I just want to make sure my girls are taken care of.”
“You know they are. And they’re my girls, Pops.” He grins and shoves my shoulder. “Why are you staring out the window like a forgotten dog?”
“We left things on a bad note when she took off for Maine. Now I’m not sure how to greet her when she gets here.”
He blinks at me. “Dude, are you serious? That’s what you’re worried about?”
“Yeah.”
He shakes his head. “You’re so fuckin’ lost, man.”
I am, and it’s a place I’m not familiar with. “Tell me about it.”
“Ya know what part of the problem is?”
“Mostly, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“You and Ember had this perfect relationship forever. You never fought, everything was happy, happy, joy, joy. You guys had the never-ending honeymoon phase.”
“Yeah, then she fell off a cliff, Tor. That’s not quite forever.”
He frowns. “You know what I mean. You’ve never had to deal with arguments with each other. You two just always saw eye-to-eye on everything. I don’t know how you two did it for so long, but it’s not the norm. Now that there’s some bumps, you’ve got no idea what to do.”
I lean back against the bannister. “You’re right. We’re in a really screwed-up place. Between the amnesia and my issues…”
His eyebrows scrunch together. “What issues?”
“I’m having a hard time believing she’s okay. I’m constantly worried about her. I’m afraid she’s not gonna wake up. I’m afraid she’s going to get lost. I’m afraid she’s going to get hurt. I’m afraid to touch her.” He blinks at me as I rattle off my list of craziness. “I’ve turned into some kind of freakin’ nervous nellie, and it’s pushing her away.”
“I told you months ago you were going through some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder shit.” He points at me. “You shoulda listened to me. It’s okay to not always be the rock, ya know. No one expects you to be perfect. You’re human just like the rest of us.”
He waits for me to deny it, but I can’t. Ever since I let Ember fall off that cliff, I’ve felt helpless. Weak. Like a turtle whose shell was suddenly ripped off—no longer viewed as hard and tough, but exposed as nothing but normal and vulnerable.
“Ash, I’m serious. You’ve spent your whole life being the one everyone leans on. What happened to Ember was a massive traumatic shit wreck for both of you to go through. Kenzi and I have been trying to tell you this for years—what happens to you matters too. Now look at you. Staring out a window worried about how the hell you’re gonna say hello to your wife? Snap out of it. Stop trying to be perfect. Let yourself heal and stop beating yourself up.”
“I’m trying to.” I don’t like thinking about myself. I’ve put other people first since I was a little kid. It’s what I do. I like taking care of people, being there when they need me, giving them songs that pull them out of the dark. Loving them unconditionally.
But when the most important person in my world needed me to save them, I failed. I worry that’s why she doesn’t remember me.
Because I’m forgettable.
“You better try, or I’m gonna kick your ass,” he teases. “C’mon, let’s go downstairs. Didya ever think we’d end up like this? Living across the street from each other, borrowing groceries?”
I laugh as we head toward the kitchen. “Nope. But I wouldn’t change it.”
“Me either. I never thought I’d be this happy. You guys will be again too. You just need some time.”
“I hope so.” The burning knot in my stomach reminds me that Ember spent a week away from me to give us time to think, and that’s all I’ve been doing. All my thinking lea
ds right back to wanting to do whatever I can to spend my life with her.
I can only hope her thinking has led her to that same decision.
He glances out the kitchen window as he grabs a few eggs. “She just pulled in the driveway. I’m gonna sneak out the front door. Stop worrying, Ash. Go throw your wife against the hood of the car and kiss the shit out of her like you used to.”
Laughing, I point to the front door. “Get out of here. And I expect some cookies back.”
Ember is letting Teddy out of the passenger side of her car when I step into the garage, and the dog immediately runs to me, wagging his tail and wiggling around at my ankles.
I lean over and pet him, then straighten up to look at my wife. The past week has felt like a year. I’ve slept on the couch in the living room every night, unable to sleep in the bed without her. It was different than when she wasn’t there before. This time, it hurt too much to sleep in our bed alone, knowing she wasn’t there because she didn’t want to be.
“He missed you,” she says. Then in a more tentative tone, “I did too.”
A sigh whooshes from my lungs, and I don’t wait another second to walk around the front of the car, cup her face in my hands, and kiss her. Her lips are full and sweet, tinged with the taste of her favorite butterscotch candy. Hungry for her, I press my body against hers, grabbing her waist with one hand to pull her tighter against me. Breathless, she leans back against the car and clasps her hands behind my neck.
“God, I fucking missed you so much.”
“You look tired.” She reaches up and touches my cheek, rubs her thumb along the circles under my eye.
“You do too.”
Her gaze shifts down to my chest. “I had a hard time sleeping. I missed you. I had so much on my mind.”
I link her fingers with mine and grab the suitcase from the back seat, eager to get out of the garage. “Are you hungry? We can have lunch and then take a nap together.”