The Fading Trilogy: Fading, Freeing, Falling: Includes 2 BONUS short stories

by E. K. Blair

  Each word falls right through me, and all I can do is give him a nod of my head.

  His smile is perfection as he covers me in it, kissing me with his whole heart. The only heart that has been able to unravel me. The heart that showed me my heart could still breathe when I felt as if it was suffocating. He walked right inside of me and brought me back to life. He promised me he wouldn’t let me fade. I didn’t believe him at the time, but he fought for me. I thought I’d lost who I was, but with each day, he gives me a piece of my old self back. A playfulness I thought was gone. A happiness I never thought I’d feel again. A security I thought was forever stolen from me.

  When he pulls back, his face is intent, looking straight through me to my core as he says, “Tell me, babe. Give me the words.”

  Taking his face in my hands, I can’t hold in my emotions when the tears slip out. “Let’s get married.”

  He pulls me to his chest as he loops his arm behind my knees, cradling me in his hold as he picks me up. The giggles slip out, the pure reflection of joy as he carries me upstairs to his room, shutting the door behind him. Laying me down in bed, he crawls over me and pulls the sheets over us.

  “Tell me you love me,” he whispers against my skin as he runs his hand underneath my top and gently squeezes my breast.

  “I’ve only ever loved you,” I pant as he slowly grazes my nipple with his thumb.

  His lips find my neck, and he begins to kiss and nibble his way down as he grabs the hem of my shirt and slips it off of me. I know what he wants, and I want to give it to him, but knowing the house is full of people, my nerves take over.

  “Ryan, wait.”

  Lifting his head, he looks down at me and reads me well when he says, “Baby, I wanna make love to you.”

  “But—”

  “You’re all that exists for me right now,” he tells me, and my eyes fall shut with his words.

  His warm lips cover mine, and I let go of the worry, handing it over to him because I know he’ll always take care of me. Running his kisses down the center of my chest, he moves to my breast and drags his tongue over the lace bra that’s still covering me. The sensation is powerful as he gently sucks my nipple into the heat of his mouth. He takes his hand and slides it behind me, unhooking my bra and dropping it to the floor. Ryan stares down at me, then meets my eyes, saying, “I never knew it could be like this.”

  His words bring a smile to my face when I respond, “Me neither.”

  We go slow, the same way we always do. He’s never rushed with me, always taking his time, but knowing that he wants to be mine—to be my husband—creates an underlying intensity. A piece of the puzzle that we’ve finally found. A wholeness that we can bring each other. And when we have each other undressed, he quietly slips inside of me and holds himself there. Still. His breathing is heavy, and I can feel the swarm of his emotions take over him. I see it in eyes as he keeps them locked on mine.

  I pull him down to me, needing the weight of him to cover me as I press my hands into his back to keep him close. Tonight is different. Bared in a way we’ve never been with each other. The love I feel for this man is more than my body can handle, and when I release a whimper, he begins to move inside of me.

  His head is nestled in the curve of my neck, and I run my hands up his back and into his hair, holding his head in my hands, and when he draws his head back, I see his cheeks are damp with tears. I don’t say anything; I know exactly how he feels because his tears reflect the ones that run down the sides of my face.

  Rolling to the side, we lie face to face. He takes my leg and drapes it over his hip as he grabs me from behind, guiding me with him. I keep my hands on his face and hold him close, both of us quietly releasing our love and happiness through tears. The room fills with nothing but soft breaths of pleasure as we make love, giving ourselves entirely with the certainty that we are perfect for each other. Feeling secure, knowing that through it all our love has never stalled. It only grows.

  Waking up in the morning, the room is cold, and I snuggle in tighter to Ryan who is just starting to stir. I watch as he slowly begins to open his eyes, and before he can fully wake, he has a cheesy grin on his face when he rolls me on top of him.

  “Morning,” he says in his sexy rasp before I lower my lips to his, giving him a gentle kiss.

  When I shiver in his arms, he rolls me back onto the bed, and wraps his arms around me.

  “Mmm, you’re still naked,” he teases with a grin, and I tuck my head down into his chest. “Why are you so shy with me still?”

  “Ryan,” I softly nag.

  “I’m not complaining. I like that you’re still shy and reserved around me.”

  Peeking up at him, he kisses my forehead, and adds, “But I’m not gonna lie, I love feeling your skin all over me.”

  “Stop,” I say, feeling the blush heat my cheeks as he quietly laughs.

  He runs his hands through my hair as he looks at me, saying, “Tell me last night wasn’t a dream.”

  “Which part?”

  “The part where you said you’d marry me.”

  Smiling, I tell him, “I hope it wasn’t a dream.”

  “Do you have any idea how happy you make me?” he asks, not letting me answer when he kisses the smile on my face.

  He keeps his lips on me as he starts running his kisses across my cheek and down my neck. Holding on to him, I close my eyes as he sends tingles down my arms. “I don’t wanna wait,” I whisper.

  “For what,” he mumbles against my skin.

  “To marry you.”

  He pulls back to look at me, and agrees, “I don’t either.”

  “Well, I was thinking . . . umm . . .”

  “Just say it,” he tells me as he brushes my hair back.

  “What about Indian Beach?”

  “To get married?” he asks.

  I nod my head, saying, “I love it there.” It’s where we went this very day last year when he told me that he wanted to be with me. It’s where he taught me how to surf. It’s a place the two of us go together every time we come to Cannon Beach. And I know it’s his favorite beach too.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “But . . .” I start hesitantly. “What if we just did it this weekend?”

  “In two days?”

  “Or three,” I say coyly, wondering if he’s thinking I’m crazy for suggesting doing it so soon.

  “Babe, don’t you want a big wedding and have everyone there?” he asks, concerned.

  Letting out a soft breath, I tell him, “I never wanted a big wedding. You know me; I don’t want all that. I just want us.”

  He gives me a kiss and then questions, “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. Just us,” I assure him before adding with a smile, “And a pretty dress.”

  “What about everything else?”

  “There is nothing else. I just want you, but no cheesy tux. Promise me no tux.”

  He laughs at me and asks, “Why’s that?”

  “Because it isn’t you.”

  “Okay, no cheesy tux,” he agrees with a sexy smirk, and the smile on my face can’t even reflect the happiness that I feel right now.

  After he makes sure he is satisfied from thoroughly kissing me, he says, “We should go downstairs. Everyone is leaving this morning, so we should make an appearance.”

  “Can we not tell them?” I suggest, and when he tilts his head in question, I add, “I don’t want all the fuss. Can we just tell your mom when everyone leaves?”

  “Of course, babe,” he says and then gets out of bed.

  After we take our showers and get dressed, we head downstairs to visit before everyone heads home, except Tori, who is going to stay so that she can go shopping with Donna.

  “Hey, Mom. Can Candace and I talk to you for a minute?” Ryan asks as she is finishing up a pot of tea for herself and me.

  “Sure,” she says with a curious eye as Ryan takes my hand and starts walking back to the study.

  “Wh
at’s going on?” Donna asks as the three of us stand there.

  My stomach is filled with butterflies, wondering how she’s going to react to this sudden news. I think Ryan and I are still in a bit of shock with the spontaneity of it all, but it’s what we both want.

  Ryan doesn’t waste any time when he comes right out and says, “I asked Candace to marry me last night.”

  “What?!” she squeals and looks to me, and then down at my hand, and Ryan catches her eyes.

  “No ring, Mom,” he says.

  She shakes her head, questioning, “So . . .?” and I laugh as I assure her, “I said yes.”

  “Oh my God!” Donna wraps her arms around both of us, and I can’t stop laughing at her reaction. Happy, joyful, and everything else you would wish for from a parent.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” she nearly scolds Ryan when she pulls back. “And why didn’t you get her a ring?”

  “I don’t need a ring,” I butt in and tell her.

  “Because,” Ryan interrupts, “I never thought of asking her until last night. It just happened, and before I knew it, I asked and she said yes.”

  “This is just wonderful news, you two,” she beams with an ear to ear smile.

  “But we need your help,” he says.

  “Yes, anything.”

  “We want to get married here. Either Saturday or Sunday.”

  “This Saturday or Sunday?” she questions.

  “Yeah,” he says while I nod my head.

  “What’s this Saturday or Sunday?” Tori asks as she walks in.

  Donna doesn’t say anything and looks to me, but Ryan goes ahead and tells her as he steps behind me and wraps his arms around my shoulders. “Candace and I are getting married.”

  “What?!” She gives the same squealed reaction as Donna. “In two days?!”

  “Or three,” I mumble quietly, starting to feel a little embarrassed with the reactions.

  “How are you supposed to plan a wedding in two days?”

  “Tori, stop,” Ryan tells her, and when she looks at me, she back pedals as I’m sure she can see the embarrassment written all over my face. “I’m sorry, Candace.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I tell her and then look over at Donna. “We don’t want a big wedding or anything. We were just thinking we could go to Indian Beach in a couple days and simply get married. That’s all.”

  Her warm smile soothes the anxiety that Tori was starting to give me and softly says, “I think that’s perfect, dear.”

  “We just need someone to do the ceremony, so could you call the church you attend and see if one of the pastors is available? We’ll work around his schedule,” Ryan says to her.

  “Of course. I’ll call right now, but you two will need to go to the courthouse to get a license today,” she tells us.

  “What about flowers, or a cake, or—” Tori starts.

  “Nothing,” Ryan tells her.

  “Really?” she asks, looking at me, and I tell her, “Really. I just want a dress. That’s all I need.” But then it hits me . . . it isn’t all I need. Turning in Ryan’s arms, I look up at him, and before I can speak, he reads the panic in me, asking, “What’s wrong?”

  “We have to call Jase. I can’t get married without him. I just . . .”

  “We’ll call him, babe. No worries.”

  Jase is my family, the closest person I have in my life next to Ryan. I couldn’t imagine doing this without him by my side.

  “Well, then,” Donna says. “I’ll get on the phone and start making calls. Why don’t the two of you go ahead and drive to the courthouse and call Jase on the way. As soon as I get things figured out on my end, I call and let you know, okay?”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Donna walks over to me and takes my hands in hers, saying, “You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me.”

  “Really?”

  “We’ll talk later, dear,” she assures and then adds, “I’ll get a list of dress shops together so when you get back, you can decide where to go first.”

  “I was hoping that you could take me,” I say, and when her eyes rim with tears and she nods her head, she tells me, “I’d love nothing more,” before hugging me.

  After Ryan and I left to head to the courthouse, I called Jase to tell him what was going on. He was shocked, which I expected, but hopped on the computer and was able to switch the flights for him and Mark, and they will be here tomorrow evening.

  When Ryan and I got back home, Donna had spoken with one of the pastors at her church, and he agreed to marry us Saturday at five. He wants to meet with the two of us later today, so Donna and I are going to try our best to find me a dress before we have our appointment at the church.

  Walking into the first dress shop, I have a pretty good idea of what I’m looking for. So when one of the bridal consultants approaches and asks, I tell her, “Simple. I really like lace.”

  “Not a problem. You’re quite small, so if you are looking to buy off the rack, you’re limited,” she tells me as she leads us through the mass of wedding gowns.

  Donna and I begin to pull dresses. Most are pretty detailed, so I only take a small handful back to the fitting room to try on. I step out and show Donna a couple of the dresses, but it isn’t until the third one that I know.

  Stepping out of the fitting room and onto the platform in front of the mirrors, Donna stands behind me to tie the satin sash around my waist. Smoothing my hands over the ivory lace, I look at myself in the mirror and just know that this is the dress I want Ryan to see me in. It’s sleeveless with a v-neck front and a plunging v-cut dip in the back with a champagne colored satin sash around the waist. It’s form-fitting and simple with a tiny sweep-train and solid lace, which I know Ryan has an affinity for.

  “I love it,” I say as Donna steps to the side.

  “It’s perfect, dear.”

  The hem is a tad long, but it’ll do. Everything else fits perfectly. I never saw myself getting married. I dreamt about it as a little girl, but never really considered it as I got older.

  It’s odd to see myself like this. As a bride. It even sounds weird; but I love him. Even when I wasn’t with him, I never stopped loving him.

  “What do you think?” Donna asks, and when I look at her in the mirror, I nod my head.

  Thinking about Ryan seeing me in this dress, thinking about becoming his wife, thinking about this past year—it all overpowers me, and I quickly wipe the tears that begin to drop. Donna steps onto the platform with me and gives me a hug.

  “I certainly hope these are happy tears,” she quietly says, and when I pull back and see another bride walking in, Donna takes my hand and walks us to my fitting room, closing the heavy curtain.

  “Are you okay?” she asks as we sit on the small couch.

  “It’s a lot,” I tell her.

  She gives me a questioning look and I assure, “Not like that; I love Ryan. Just . . . this past year has been a huge change. One I never saw coming.”

  “I can’t even imagine.”

  And out of nowhere, I think about my parents. About my father, and how everything has decayed with them. I was about to leave for New York without ever telling them, and now I’m about to get married. It hurts.

  “My parents don’t even know,” I mumble as more tears fall.

  “Sweetheart,” she says as she pulls me into her arms. “Well . . . do you think you should call them? I mean, when’s the last time you spoke with them?”

  Sitting back, I tell her, “Last Christmas. It’s been a year. Ryan said he saw my dad several months ago at one of my performances, but he didn’t even want to talk to me. He told Ryan to not tell me he was there.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It just makes me sad.”

  “Of course it does,” she says. “Love doesn’t disappear just because the people do.”

  “I’m not sure they ever loved me,” I choke out around the knot in my throat. “But it feels weird to move on without t
hem.”

  “What does Ryan say?”

  “What can he say?” I tell her with a slight shrug of my shoulders. “He’s supportive regardless, but it’s hard not to think about them right now. I know them well enough to know that it’s done with and has been for a long time.”

  She takes my hands, and tells me, “I don’t claim to have been the perfect mother to Ryan. I let him down in so many ways. I didn’t protect him like I should have, and I know that. But I’ve never once not loved him with everything that I am. I don’t know your parents, so I can’t speak for them, but I feel like I have gotten to know you well this past year. And you have a beautiful soul. I couldn’t imagine anyone better for my son than you. To be able to call you my daughter, I can’t tell you what that means to me.” Her tears fall along with mine, and I soak in her words. “I love you as if you were my own.”

  Wiping my face, I don’t feel like I could possibly speak, but I force the words out because she deserves to hear them when I explain, “It’s always been hard for me to talk to people.” I stop, trying to take a breath through my shaky voice but then continue with my trembling, strained words. “I don’t open up easily, I know that. But you made it easy. You and Ryan both. And when I told you, the night of my solo, that you were the best gift Ryan ever gave me . . . I meant every word. It killed me not to have him for those few months, but it killed not to have you either. I never understood what a mom’s love felt like until you.”

  We spend a few minutes hugging each other before we dry our tears and have a good laugh at our emotional mess.

  “Here, let me untie you,” she says as we stand up and she loosens the sash. “Should we look for a wrap or something? You’re going to be freezing wearing only this.”

  “This dress is beautiful. I don’t want to cover it up,” I tell her.

  “But it’s the middle of winter.”

  Looking back at her, I say, “Ryan will keep me warm.”

  When she steps out, I slip off the dress and put my clothes back on. Donna tried talking me into a veil and jewelry, but I politely declined. Unfortunately, there was no declining when she insisted on buying the dress.