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)
Ember would be horrified if she saw me like this.
I slowly pull my hand from hers and rise from my plastic chair. “I’ll go home and clean up. But only if her sister can stay in here while I’m gone. Even after visiting hours. I don’t want her alone when she wakes up.”
“You have my word, Mr. Valentine.”
The need to crawl into that tiny bed with Ember, wrap my arms around her, and stay that way until this trap between life and death releases us is overpowering. Holding her is the only place I should be.
I’m afraid to leave.
I’m afraid if I don’t stay here touching her, whispering to her, she’ll slip further away...and I’ll lose her forever.
The moment the thought of losing her ebbs into my mind, I’m almost paralyzed by the deep, heart-twisting pain that grows in my chest and spreads out to my limbs, searing into every molecule of my being, as if she’s being ripped out of me.
I won’t let her go. Ever.
Leaning down, I gently kiss her cheek.
“I’ll be back soon, baby. I promise,” I whisper. “You rest. Dream of us. I love you.”
I let my brother, Storm, take me home. He pushes me into the shower, forces me to eat cinnamon toast and drink tea, then convinces me to try to take a nap. He promises to park himself on my couch until I’m ready to go back to the hospital.
Once alone in the bedroom, I ease myself onto our bed. The mattress feels foreign. No longer comforting, but somehow untrustworthy. Like it might swallow me up in a sinkhole of blankets, sheets, and memories. The absence of my wife is deafening, screaming from every corner of the room. Her scent embedded in the pillows both intoxicates and mocks me. So much of her is here...but she’s not.
I’ve never felt so utterly alone. Three days without her touch, her voice, her smile, and my world feels as if it’s crumbled into ruins. We’ve been apart many times before, chasing our careers. But not like this. Never, in fifteen years, has she been unreachable to me.
I grab my cell phone from the nightstand, open my voice messages, and press play on one she sent me last week. My hand shakes as I grip the phone. Her cheerful voice drifts from the small speaker.
“Hey, sweetheart. You must be in the studio. I really wanted to hear your voice. It’s been a long day. I’m on my way home. I got our favorite S’mores ice cream for our snuggly movie-in-bed date tonight after Kenzi goes to bed. I picked up some new candles too, and I may have stopped by the lingerie store for something extra special. Okay, I’ll see you when I get home. I love you and can’t wait to see you. Lots of smooches. Bye, love.”
I suck in a deep breath that feels like it could be my last. A tear falls down my cheek and lands on the phone screen with a tiny splash.
She sounded so happy. So sweet. So hopeful. So mine. So alive.
I play the message again.
And again.
My heart wrenches at the realization we never had our ice cream date that night. I got caught up at the studio, and she fell asleep. We promised we’d do it the following week.
The day she fell.
My fingers curl around my phone in raging regret.
Everything she said the day of the accident pummels through my veins.
She was right. So fucking right. As much as we love each other, our life—our “us”—had been slowly slipping away. Just as I realized it and decided to stop it, I let her slip away from me.
I let her slip out of my grasp.
I bury my face in her pillow, suffocating the screaming sobs I can’t swallow back anymore. I play her message once again, needing to hear her voice, and beg the universe to give us more time.
“Ash…can you hear me?” she whispers.
I blink and rub my eyes, but I can’t see her through the thick, blue fog surrounding me.
“Ember? Where are you?” I reach for her, following the sound of her voice, but I can’t find her.
“I’m not sure… I’m tired. There’s a pink light… I have to sleep in it.”
“No. Come closer to me. Don’t go…”
“I have to. I’m almost there.”
“I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave…”
A warm breeze passes over me.
My lips tingle.
My breath catches.
“It’s not your fault. I’ll come back someday. I promise. We’ll be together again. I love you.”
“Em!”
My body convulses. The fog disappears. I’m staring at the ceiling fan in our bedroom.
Spinning. Spinning.
The scent of Ember’s calming lavender bed spray tickles my nose.
I sit up and stare at the empty side of the bed. The small purple glass bottle isn’t on her nightstand where it always sits.
But I smell it, all over me, all over the sheets.