“Shit,” I grumbled, reaching into my pocket and letting the muddied square fall to the table.
“Calm down, it’s okay. I’ll clean it.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I should … right? I don’t…” I sat with a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what to do, Willow.”
Willow rose with ethereal grace and floated over to me, setting her hand on my shoulder. “Sit,” she commanded softly. “That’s what you have to do. Then, when you’ve finished eating, go to bed.”
“It’s only six,” I noted.
She cracked a small smile. “In emotional hours, it’ll feel like it's perpetually two in the morning for a while.”
I sat. She was right. I felt like I was in a drunken haze, but I hadn’t had a drop to drink. Though, in that moment I would have killed for some of my dad’s Scotch. I liked to savor that, though, since there wasn’t much left, and if I drank anything now, savoring would be the last thing on my mind.
Willow cleared her plate and reached for the blanket.
“What are you doing?” I asked, stupidly.
“Cleaning it.” She spoke softly with well-crafted sympathy.
I nodded, unable to swallow my food past the lump taking over my throat. As Willow stood at the counter, seeming to study the stains, I dropped the food from my hands and let my head fall to the table.
I tried to cry again, and I couldn’t.
I replayed the scene of a feral-looking Ember clawing at the dirt in the rain, screaming in primal agony as she pressed the only blanket of our unborn child into the semi-frozen ground. It was like something out of a horror movie, and I could only see it in flashes—one movement and then the next—as if my heart wouldn’t let me see it all at once.
I’d felt like a dad. For a few days I felt like a father, and had hope that I’d see the same glimmer my mom had in her eyes, or the dimple my dad had in his right cheek. For a split second of time, I thought maybe I’d feel the spirit of my sister as I held my newborn. Above all of that, I thought I’d rock to sleep in the middle of the night the human embodiment of my love for Ember, and hers for me.
That was all gone, now. And there was nothing I could do. There was no way I could have acted faster. There was no acting to be done on my part. I was just as helpless then as I’d been when Rae mounted that horse, or when my parents had left that restaurant.
Slowly, I rose from the table and trudged up the stairs. All I wanted to do was curl up with Ember and hug the pain away from her. I knew I couldn’t, but I needed to try. Maybe more for me than for her at this point. It wasn’t her fault I felt helpless.
I pushed the door open and found Ember in the same place she’d been when I left. Curled on her right side, her back was to me and her hair was tied in a loose bun on the top of her head. As she breathed, I watched the minuscule rise and fall of her shoulders. From this vantage point, you’d never know the living hell she’d been through in the last twenty-four hours.
I crept over to the bed and slid in fully clothed, not wanting to waste time undressing when I needed so badly to hold my wife. She didn’t move an inch when I wrapped my arm around her—the pain pills were pretty strong, especially for someone who doesn’t often take medication. For a few moments I got to listen to the wondrous sound of her breathing, thanking God that I had this woman in my life.
God.
As soon as the prayer of gratitude swirled through my mind, it was replaced by a gut-punching sense of anger and betrayal. I took several deep breaths, wanting to excuse those thoughts from my mind while I focused on holding a sleeping Ember.
Several minutes later, the rage was too much, and I felt like my skin was on fire. I tossed the blanket from me, careful not to disturb Ember, and I left the bedroom as quickly as I could, barely able to stand being in my own body.
Leaving the house, I stomped down the front steps. The rain hadn’t let up yet, and I didn’t know if it ever would.
“Hey,” Willow called after me as I reached my car. “Where you off to?”
“Just have a few errands to run,” I lied. “I figured I’d get them done before I crashed. Need anything while I’m out?”
I hated lying.
Willow looked up in thought. “No,” she answered. “I’m good. I’ll text you if I think of anything.”
She closed the door and I got in my car and closed mine, driving away with only one destination in mind.
The temperature hadn’t dropped below fifty all day, which I was thankful for as I ascended the stone steps of the church. With all of the water, it would have been an ice skating rink if it were much colder. Despite the anger coursing through my veins, I was glad that this church—the church that hosted the funerals of my parents and Rae—had an open door twenty-four hours a day.
Entering the expansive, marble-floored space, I walked to the flickering votives on the left. As a matter of habit, I lit one candle each for Rae and each of my parents. I was ready to walk away, and then I remembered one more candle I was now forced to light. The one for the baby we’d lost just yesterday.
As the flame ignited on the virgin wick, my back teeth ground into each other with so much force I thought they’d crack. I dropped the matchstick and walked slowly down the center aisle of the church.
I reached the altar and closed my eyes for a moment, listening intently for the sounds of people lingering around. I turned around and opened my eyes, scanning the back of the church once more.
Silence. Emptiness.
Turning back around, I faced the wall just to the left of the altar, where a large cross was hanging, lit from below.
“You,” I sneered, pointing a shaky finger at the tattered wood. “You!” I shouted a second time, bouncing my voice off the marble that surrounded me. “Come and get me, you coward.”
The echo of my words seemed to linger. I waited for some kind of response, but felt nothing. Nothing but spite.
“The loving arms of a father, my ass. It wasn’t enough for you to orphan me. No, you couldn’t stop at snatching my parents from me in the middle of the night. Thief. What? You didn’t delight in killing my baby sister, either?” My skin heated as my breathing grew ragged. “Didn’t get off enough on that, did you? I guess not. You are so cowardly in your hatred toward me that you thought nothing of stealing my first child. Why did you have to take Ember down with me on this one? Huh?”
I paced erratically across the front of the church, waving my hands as I spoke. I knew I wouldn’t have all night to be alone in here. I didn’t need all night anyway.
“Whatever grudge you have against me, Ember didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve whatever it is you’re doling out to me.” I took a deep breath, and with a broken cry I screamed, “What did I ever do to you? Have I not been kind enough? Loving enough? Charitable enough? Did I not praise you loud enough after you stole my whole family? Is that it? Should I have fallen to my knees in thanks?”
On my own command, I threw myself to my knees on the marble stairs, not even wincing at the pain as it shot through my body. “Thank you!” I screamed as sweat dripped down the back of my neck. “Thank you so much for murdering almost everyone I’ve ever loved.” I bowed my head, breathing deeply, knowing that what I was doing was sin at its finest. And caring not one bit.
Slowly raising my head, I continued through gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare touch her again, you spineless bastard, do you hear me? You leave Ember out of this. You have a problem with me? Take it out on me! I have no interest in playing the part of Job. If that’s your plan for me, strike me dead right now.” I threw my head back and stretched out my arms, still on my knees. “Do it! I beg you! Take me now and be done with me. I don’t want to play anymore!”
After a few seconds of silence, I opened my eyes, once again eyeing the cross. “That’s what I thought.”
I rose to my feet, wincing at the agony searing through my joints. Feeling weak and drained, I trudged back down the hypocritical aisle, stopping only when I reached the b
ack door. I turned once more to the altar, taking one final look.
“I have no peace, no quietness,” I began quoting the Bible through thick tears. “I have no rest, but only turmoil.”
As my mouth formed the last word, my tears dried, and a bitter emptiness crept through the place my soul once rejoiced. I put my hand on the cold handle, curling my lip as I spit on the floor in front of me.
“We’re done here.”
Bo
“Man, it’s been a hell of a couple of weeks. The team’s done an excellent job, though.” David Bryson sat on the stool next to me at McCarthy’s as we relaxed after a killer week.
I nodded as I sipped from my pint. “You’re not kidding. I almost forgot how much day-to-day work went into the gala. Remind me to give everyone a huge gift at the end of the year to make up for the one I wasn’t home for last year.”
He chuckled and sipped his own drink before eyeing me seriously. “It’s been an even rougher few weeks for you, though. How are you holding up? How’s Ember?”
“She’s tough as hell, David. You know that.” I tried to make light of the situation I didn’t want to think about.
David shook his head in the frustrated way my dad used to when I’d said something outlandish. “She is, but she’s also one of the most human people I’ve ever met, too. So are you, for that matter…” He trailed off and raised his eyebrows the way my dad did when he was waiting for a more substantial answer than the one I’d given him.
“What do you want me to say, David?” I ran my tongue across the front of my teeth and looked down at the bar.
David put a firm hand on my shoulder. “I want you to tell me that you’re taking care of her and that you’re taking care of yourself.”
“That’s all I’ve done for the last several years—take care of myself,” I grumbled smugly.
“Son, I’m only going to say this once.” David took a long pull of his beer. “Don’t screw this up. This test you’ve been given. In sickness and in health? You’re being called to the carpet on that right now. It doesn’t just mean making sure your wife is okay. You need to make sure you’re healthy enough to be the man she deserves. Someone she can count on.”
I swallowed hard, finding it hard to meet his eyes. “I get it,” I murmured.
“Good.” David slid off his stool and patted me on the back. “See you tomorrow.”
Once he left, I took a deep breath and reveled in being alone at the bar. There were several DROP employees that had come to the pub after we closed up for the day, but most were sitting at tables eating dinner.
The solitude was gratifying. Putting on the smiling face at work, only to have to plaster the same one on at home, was becoming a fulltime job in itself. The feeling of emptiness would go away, I’d reasoned to myself. I just had to push through. Fake it until I made it. After the rush of the holidays and the gala, it would be time to amp up promotion for the album and get ready for the tour. If I could make it until then, I knew I’d be okay.
“All alone?” Ainsley perched her petite self on the stool David had vacated.
I smirked. “Not anymore.”
She put her tiny hand on my arm and laughed. The diamond from her oversized—and under-quality—engagement ring sparkled in the light. “You’re so funny.”
I raised my eyebrows for a fraction of a second. “I try.”
“Seriously, though,” she cooed. “How are you doing?”
If one more person asks me that…
I couldn’t tell if she actually cared. I never could with Ainsley. Her motives were as murky as a bog.
“It’s been tough, but we’re getting through it.” I was as honest as I felt would be safe with Ainsley.
She tilted her head to the side and cleared her throat. “And how is Ember?”
To be fair, all of DROP’s employees were good to us immediately following the miscarriage. Ainsley included. They arranged for some food delivery, sent flowers, and managed my position for the few days I was out of the office. It’s not like the miscarriage was a secret, but it also wasn’t a secret to Ainsley that I rarely brought my personal life into work. Not since I’d gotten together with Ember, anyway.
“She’s good, Ainsley. Thank you for asking.” I was polite. Ainsley hadn’t done anything wrong.
I know it’s unwise to keep ex-girlfriends around for any length of time, but the fact was—Ainsley was stellar at her job. Sure we’d had that one snafu back during my break-up with Ember, but after that things went back to business-only.
“Well,” Ainsley said with a bored tone in her voice. “I’m going to get on my way. Preston is waiting for me at Mast.”
Mast was a very swanky five-star dining experience that had opened in the past two years. Ainsley had found a true mate in Preston Kentfield—one who wanted to throw enough money around to make it look like they had more. I didn’t envy that life one bit, and was suddenly filled with desperation to get home to my wife.
A woman on solid ground who didn’t care one bit what was written on the bottom line of my portfolio.
I ordered one more pint before heading home though, because I didn’t deserve her. Over the past year, and even more so since the miscarriage, Ember had settled into her own skin more than I’d ever thought was possible. Drawing on the strength of her childhood and her family—especially with her burgeoning relationship with Willow—each time Ember took a deep breath, it seemed like she breathed in more strength, and exhaled a million shards of weakness.
I teetered to the car, knowing I’d been letting her down. Pushing her away because I couldn’t shoulder the challenges God had laid before me, while she seemed to be rising from them even stronger than before. I was supposed to take care of her, protect her, and love her with reckless abandon.
As I navigated the car carefully home, I feared I was failing on all accounts.
Pulling down the driveway, I had to adjust my eyes at the sight of a brightly lit Christmas tree in the front window.
Shit, one more thing I fucked up.
Sure, I’d been busy with the gala, but one thing Rae and I always demanded of each other after our parents died was that the house would be fully decorated all holiday season. It brought warmth and comfort. Seeing it in the window flooded my chest with love, and immediately following that was a surge of regret.
I parked the car and raced up the front stairs. I opened the door and turned right, and the sight of Ember standing in front of the white glowing lights took my breath away. It was like our wedding night, only more fulfilling. This time she was my wife. Standing in our house. Our home.
“Hey,” I whispered. I was certain she’d heard me come in, but she looked so peaceful, I feared I’d startle her.
Ember turned slowly toward me, and I saw a glistening in her eyes that lurched my heart into my throat.
“Hi,” she whispered back through a beautiful smile.
“You did this?” I gestured to the tree as I walked into the room and stood next to her.
She nodded. “Monica and Tyler helped, but, yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” I stammered as I put my arm around her waist, enjoying the view of the ten-foot tall tree. “Work … the gala.”
Looking down at Ember, I watched her eyebrows scrunch in confusion. She lifted her chin and met me with a fierce gaze.
“You’ve been drinking.”
I shrugged. “We went to McCarthy’s after work. It’s been a long couple of week—”
“Has it?” she snapped. “Has it been a long couple of fucking weeks? Did it ever occur to you that I might want to get out of the house, too?”
Her nostrils flared and I took a self-preserving step backward.
“I haven’t told you that you couldn’t … you have your own car…” I tilted my head trying to understand where this was going.
“Ever since we lost the baby you haven’t taken me anywhere. We don’t go out to dinner anymore, you don’t ask me for lunch at your office…” She paused long eno
ugh to burst into tears. “And you didn’t even tell me the details about the gala. I know I let you down, Bo. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lost the baby!” Her face turned bright red as she shrieked and walked out the back of the room and into the kitchen.
“Ember!” I called after her. “What the hell?”
Entering the kitchen, I found her pouring a glass of wine. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and brought the glass to her lips.
“Yeah, I’ve been drinking.” My mocking tone arched her eyebrow all on its own.
“Look at the counter, asshole. There’s a glass here for you, too. Only, that was poured two hours ago when you were supposed to be home. No call. No show. That’s your M.O. the past two weeks, isn’t it?” Her eyes never left mine as she set her glass on the counter. She finally broke my gaze when she turned and walked through the dining room and headed for the stairs.
She’d never called me an asshole before. In my anger, I was scrolling through my brain in futility to remember if we’d ever sworn at each other … outside of any instances where Adrian Turner may have been present.
“Asshole?” I said more to myself than her as I ran to catch up with her on the stairs. “Did you call me an asshole?”
Ember whipped around mid-step. “Yes,” she hissed. “I did. You’re an asshole. All day I’ve felt like complete shit because I thought I’d been selfish over the last several weeks. Spending so much time with Willow and on the phone with—you know what? It doesn’t matter. The point is I knew we were off-kilter, and I was trying to make it better. I thought I’d at least get a fucking tree since you don’t seem to think I’m even worthy of having this tradition with you!” She gripped the railing and turned back for her ascent.
“Off-kilter? We’ve been fine! You’ve been working with Tyler and I’ve been at work. What the fuck do you want from me?” I shouted as she reached our bedroom door.
I was halfway down the hallway when I said that, and Ember turned on her heels and walked with rage-filled speed to meet me where I stood.
Bo & Ember Page 18