“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.
My chest shudders as I inhale the familiar scent.
She was here.
I can feel her, taste her on my lips, hear the echo of her words lingering in the air.
“I’ll wait for you,” I whisper to the dark room. “I love you.”
Chapter One
Seven Years Later
“Good morning, beautiful.” I place the vase of purple, yellow, and white flowers on the nightstand and move the flowers I brought here yesterday to the table near the door. Later, when I leave, I’ll drop them off at the nurses’ station, and they’ll be given to a patient who never receives gifts.
I shrug off my leather jacket and throw it onto the chair in the corner before I go to the window and pull back the blinds. Sunlight floods into the room.
“It’s nice out today. It would’ve been a great day to go up to Wolfeboro and visit some of those little stores you love so much, grab some lunch.” I unlock the window and push it open about two inches. “Finally, some fresh air in this place, huh?”
When I turn around, she’s staring across the room at the television.
“Em, I—”
“Wow, those flowers are beautiful. So vibrant.” Sherry, my favorite nurse, rolls her cart of medications and diagnostic apparatuses into the room. I always avoid looking at it. “You’re here bright and early this morning, Mr. Valentine.”
“I couldn’t wait to see my girl. The sun’s out, think I heard birds chirping. All that happy stuff. It felt like a good day.”
She flashes me a warm smile as she tends to my wife. “You’re a lucky gal, Mrs. Valentine. My husband would spend a day like this cleaning out the garage for the umpteenth time.”
I wait at the window, out of the way, while Sherry does her morning tasks and taps notes on her iPad. Eyes watch me from the framed photos on the wall, their smiles suspended in time. Me, Ember, and Kenzi over the years, smiling and loving life. Until the photos change to only Kenzi and me...changing and aging, our smiles not as bright. I swear in each of those photos I see a gaping empty spot, as if someone came along and cut Ember out.
My mind envisions her there in the photos, though.
“You two enjoy your time together,” Sherry finally says. “Be sure to close that window before you leave, handsome.”
I grin. “Will do, Sherry.”
When she’s gone, I push myself off the windowsill and approach the end of Ember’s bed. I touch her foot, squeeze it gently through the thin, white sock. She’s incredibly ticklish. The slightest touch on her foot used to send her into adorable, sexy giggles.
She continues to stare toward the television.
Reaching down beneath the bed, I unlock the wheels and turn it so she’s facing the window. “Look how blue the sky is, babe. It’s almost as pretty as you.” I sit on the bed beside her hip and bend down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “I know you hate mornings, but I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to come see you.”
I grab her hand and squeeze it between mine. “This weekend, the doctor’s going to start the new medication I told you about. I know it’s taken fuckin’ forever, but you know how this stuff goes. Approvals and paperwork and yadda yadda yadda.” I retrieve a tube of lotion from the drawer in the nightstand. “It’s still considered experimental, but I’ve got a good feeling about this, Em.” I squirt the cream onto my palm and gently massage it onto her hand then up her arm to her shoulder.
She blinks once.
“It’s helped a few people.” I work the lotion into her other arm. “They woke up, and they’re getting better and better every day. I saw videos of them—talking and walking. It’s crazy. It can work for us too. Think about it, Em.” I stroke her cheek, aching for her to look at me. “In a couple weeks or months, we could be together again. Like we used to be. You could come home, sleep in your own bed, eat all your favorite things. Like ice cream.”
I dip down and brush my lips against her ear. “We could go on a second honeymoon and ravish each other,” I whisper teasingly before sitting back up.
Her green eyes close slowly, stay that way for a few moments, then open again.
Fuck, I miss her so much I want to punch the wall. Her smile, her laugh, her scent, her touch. Her love.
This new treatment has to work.
“I know you can hear me, baby. I’d climb right into your head with you if I could. I swear, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But I can’t, so it’s time for you to come out. If you start to wake up, don’t be trying to hit the snooze button, okay? Just let yourself wake up, and I’ll be right here. Kenzi too.”
I take a deep breath and scan her face for any sign of understanding or awareness.
Nothing.
“I love you, Em,” I say softly. “I miss you so damn much. I need you to come back to me. Kenzi needs you. I’ve tried so hard to be a good dad for her. But I think she really still needs her mom. So much has happened...”
I can’t tell her everything that’s happened with our daughter. Not like this.
She continues to stare right through me, toward the window and the bright blue sky.
With a sigh, I stretch out on the bed and carefully put my arm around her. Resting my head next to hers, I follow her vacant gaze.
“Let’s look for cloud formations,” I whisper. “Remember, we used to do that? You always saw the coolest shapes.”
Two clouds float by before I drift off to sleep.
I wake an hour later.
I’m not supposed to be on her bed, or asleep in her room. Even the open window is off-limits. But Sherry has a soft spot for us after seeing me here almost every day for the past seven years. She’s told me I’m one of the few who visit their loved ones in this place frequently. She also knows that the only time I ever truly sleep is when I’ve got my wife in my arms, when I can escape to that place where we’re together and none of this is real. Soon, Sherry will return with another nurse to turn Ember and take care of her other daily necessities. Sometimes I stay and help, but today I’d rather have just the memory of napping with her in my arms.