Every now and then, her nice, normal side makes an appearance, but it never lasts long.
“What if nothing happens after this treatment?” She pulls her long hair back and secures it with a black hair band.
“What do you mean?”
“If there’s no change in Ember after this medication, then what happens?”
“Nothing. She’ll just stay as she’s been. It can’t hurt her.”
“Well, that’s good. As long as she’ll still basically be okay,” she says, and a few moments later, she goes for my throat. “And what happens to you?”
My jaw clenches. My little stress bear is long gone and has left me high and dry. “Nothing happens to me. Why would it?”
She stares at me and shakes her head slowly. “Don’t take this wrong, Ash, but isn’t this the last chance? It’s been over seven years with no real improvement. If this doesn’t work, isn’t it time to move on?”
“Move on?” I repeat.
She puts her hand on my arm. “Yeah. Get on with your life. You’ve kept yourself in this emotional and physical prison for years. It’s very noble and sweet, but you’re still young. You have an amazing career. Kenzi is grown up. Maybe it’s time for you to let go and be happy again.”
I pull my arm out of her grasp. “I am happy, Sydni.”
She lets out a mock laugh. “You are not. Do you expect anyone to believe that? That someone as rich, famous, and good-looking as you is happy with—with—” She struggles to find the right word, which is a huge task for her.
“With what, Syd? My wife? Say it.”
“She’s not your wife anymore. She’s gone. You’ve been waiting for years. You did all the right things. If this doesn’t work, let her go. No one will blame you or think badly of you, Asher.”
Let it go. I can’t believe someone who Ember considered one of her best friends would want her to be let go. Maybe all our friends are thinking the same thing, but at least they have enough respect to not actually say it to my face.
“As long as she’s breathing, I’m not letting her go or giving up. I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks.”
“Ember wouldn’t want you to be wasting your life like this. You deserve to be happy after everything you’ve been through. She’d want you to be happy.”
“I don’t want to hear anymore of this. She’s my wife. We’re going through this together, because that’s what marriage is. She’s not dead, Syd. I love her. We made vows. That’s it.”
“You don’t have to give up on her or stop loving her to allow yourself to live.” She smiles and raises an eyebrow at me. “Did you ever think that maybe she’d want us to be together, to help each other heal?”
My stomach turns at the thought, and I almost fall off my chair as I spin to face her.
“Have you lost your fucking mind? Are you seriously sitting here in your best friend’s backyard trying to convince her husband that she’d want him to be with you? You don’t know Ember at all if you think she’d ever want that. And you definitely don’t know me. I’m not into crazy bitches.”
She huffs and flips her hair back. “Why is it so inconceivable? I don’t expect you to love me, Ash, but I know damn sure we could make each other happy and have some fun. I’d never hurt you.”
“Hurt me? What the hell do you think you’re doing right now? You’re making me sick, Sydni. You treated Tor like shit for years. You cheated on him constantly. For years you’ve been coming on to me, betraying your best friend when she’s in a coma for fuck’s sake.”
She blinks but doesn’t even deny it.
“I’ve tried to ignore it for the sake of our friendship, but fuck. You’ve turned into a sick, selfish, twisted person I don’t recognize anymore. You used to at least have some morals.” I stand up and grab my sweatshirt off the back of my chair. “I’m going inside. Stay the hell away from my kid and her husband if you plan to stick around.”
I make a beeline for the house, not stopping to talk to anyone else on my way. So much for trying to have a relaxing night before I have to face the anxiety the next few weeks will bring.
Chapter Three
“Hello?” Her voice drifts to me as a timid whisper.
“Hi...I missed you.” I reach for her, but she backs away, clenching her hands together over her chest.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She stares off into the mist—to the left, then the right, then left again.
“I don’t know...” Her voice wavers and cracks. “Something’s different.” She raises her hands to grasp her head, then turns back to face me. “I feel weird.”
My heart beats faster. “What feels weird? Are you in pain?”
“I don’t know... I don’t feel right. I’m scared.”
“Ember, it’s okay. I’m here with you. Don’t be scared. Tell me what feels different.”
She shakes her head and spins around again to look the other way. “Where did everything go? I don’t want to be here like this. My head hurts. It’s dark. I can’t see.”
I touch her shoulders and slowly move my hand down the length of her arm to grasp her hand in mine. Leaning forward, I kiss the back of her head. “Hold on to my hand. Listen to my voice. Don’t be scared, baby. You’re not alone, I promise.” I swallow over the ball of unease lodged in my throat. “I’m glad you’re here. What did you want to tell me today?”
“I have to go now. I can’t be here anymore.” She pulls her hand from mine and walks away, back into the bluish mist surrounding us.
“Em, don’t go. Not yet. Stay and talk to me, please.” I blink at her diminishing form. “Don’t leave me.”
She doesn’t turn around when she says, “I can’t talk to you. I don’t even know you.”
I move to follow her, but my feet are locked in place.
She disappears like a ghost, taking most of my hope with her.
“No!”
The sound of my voice jars me awake. I’m already sitting up, clutching the comforter tight. Sweat covers my body, thin rivulets running down the middle of my bare chest. Damp strands of hair stick to my forehead, neck, and shoulders like seaweed.
“Shit,” I mutter.
A quick, hot shower washes the sticky sweat away but does nothing to banish the disquiet muddling through my brain.
Does Ember remember me, wherever she is now? Does she hear my voice when I whisper in the dark? Do I still live on in her heart like she does in mine?
I pull on jeans and a T-shirt and head for the front door, foregoing my morning coffee even though I need a cup or ten wicked bad. I drive my Porsche across town to Kenzi and Tor’s house in silence. Even music can’t pull me out of the lingering daze from the dream I had last night.
“Daddy, are you okay?” Kenzi’s eyes are wide when she opens her front door, wearing leggings and a wrinkled, oversized T-shirt that I know belongs to Tor. “It’s not even eight a.m. yet.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” I kiss her cheek as I step inside the living room. Their huge white dog immediately rises from his bed in the corner and comes over to nuzzle his nose into my palm. “Hey, buddy,” I whisper, stroking his head as I sit in the middle of the couch. “I wanted to talk to you. Did I wake you?”