Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 149606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
Just in case.
Chapter Seventeen
The vibrating of my phone wakes me, and I glance at the small clock in my bunk as I reach to answer it. My breath catches when I see Ember’s name and picture flashing on my screen.
I swipe to answer. “Ember?”
There’s a long pause, and I pull the phone away from my ear to check if I lost the call. “You there, Em?”
“I’m sorry…it’s late,” she whispers.
“Don’t apologize. You can call me anytime. Are you okay?”
“Yes…I couldn’t sleep…and I think I maybe remember something…but I’m not sure.”
I’m instantly awake, excitement coursing through me like a live wire. “Do you want to talk about it?”
According to the doctors, we’re not supposed to force her to try to remember things, and if she does, we should act casual and not elaborate on the details unless she asks us to.
“Yes,” she answers. “But it could’ve been just a dream I was thinking about. It’s hard for me to tell the difference between a dream I had and what might be a real memory.”
“You can describe it to me,” I offer. “Maybe I can help.”
I’m going crazy wondering what she might’ve remembered and if it means her memories are coming back. Fuck the rest of the tour—I’ll jump off this bus right now and take the first flight back to New Hampshire to be with her.
“Music…” she says. “I remember faint guitar playing while I was with the butterflies…and I could hear singing too. And—and it made me feel better, I think. I felt safe.”
She has no idea how she’s making my heart pound and how hard it is for me to keep my voice calm. “That sounds really nice.” I jump out of my bunk to hunt down a guitar in the lounge area. “Do you remember the words to the song at all?”
“A little…I can’t sing it, though.”
She can. Ember has an amazing voice. She can sing anything effortlessly. “That’s okay. You can just tell me some of the words if you want.”
“Okay. I’ll try.” She pauses, takes a nervous breath, and recites the words in a soft, wavery voice. “Up…up in the sky…that’s where we’ll fly…me and you…you and I…”
My hands shake as I balance the guitar on my leg and softly sing along with her as I strum the melody that’s so simple but as much a part of me as my fingerprint. “Way past the trees…up to the clouds…that’s where we’ll be…me and you…just you and me…”
Emotion crackles through my voice, but I continue to sing with her. “We’ll follow rainbows and butterflies across blue skies, and our love won’t ever die, I promise that’s true. Because I love you, and you love me, and you’re the reason why…I said I do.”
“Asher, that’s it! You know the words. And your voice…it’s the voice I heard.”
The happy excitement in her voice wraps around my heart, squeezing my breath away. I’d do anything to see the smile on her face and have this moment with her in person.
“I wrote you that song when I was eighteen, and I played it for you over the phone the morning of our wedding. It was just a silly little song to make you laugh, but you loved it. Whenever we were apart, you always asked me to play it for you while we were on the phone before you went to sleep.”
“I don’t remember those parts. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. I played it for you while you were in the coma. Almost every day, I’d sit next to your bed and play songs for you. I always played this one last.”
“Do you think I remember hearing you playing while I was in the coma?”
“It’s possible.” I put the guitar to the side and grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. My hand is still shaking as I pop the top off and gulp half the bottle.
She remembered something—something special. More special than she even realizes.
It might not be a memory from before the accident, but it’s still a real memory.
“Sometimes I wake up, and I miss the music. I try to hear it in my head, but it’s not the same. It sounds too far away…and then I get sad.”
“Baby, I’ll play and sing for you every night. I’ll even record it for you so you can hear it whenever you want.”
“I think I’d like that.”
I squeeze past Razz, the drummer, in the narrow hall and jump back into my bunk. “Em…I’m glad you called me.”
I’ve been on the road for almost a month, and this is the first time she’s ever reached out to talk to me on her own.
“I was afraid to at first. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I always want to hear from you. No matter what. I don’t care where I am or what I’m doing. Call me, text me, send me a messenger pigeon—I don’t care how you do it—I want it.”