When Ashes Fall

by Marni Mann

  It was just under ten thousand square feet and built into the base of the mountain with a full view of the south side of the lake. It was too big for a family of ten.

  “Because I wanted you to see how beautiful it looks from each window.”

  Her stare slowly shifted back to me. “But it’s the size of my old high school.”

  “It’s my place, Alix.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened. “You really own that?”

  I nodded. “I also have a condo in LA where my West Coast office is located.”

  She glanced from me to the house, repeating that pattern every few seconds. “Does someone usually live here?”

  She was processing this in stages.

  “No, the homes are available to us whenever we want to stay in them.” I reached across the seat and put my hand on her cheek. “We’re going to look at places in Maine soon.”

  “I had no idea,” she said softly. She glanced around the car as though she just realized she was in it. “I take that back. I knew something based on the way you live in Boston, but I didn’t know things were like this.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  Money was the reason most women wanted to date me.

  That was how different my relationship was with Alix.

  “No,” she said honestly. “I just don’t know this world at all, and I’m trying to keep up.” Her serious expression turned to laughter as she added, “Dylan, I have three roommates; we all share one bathroom, and that feels perfectly normal to me. And, last week, I bought baby body wash because it was cheaper than the adult soap, and that’s what I shower with at work. I know nothing about having money.”

  My hand dropped to her waist, and I pulled her across the seat until she was right next to me. “I know this is a lot to take in; you don’t have to do it all at once.”

  She seemed to think about my comment. “I’m going to work on it, I promise, but we have to come to an agreement on something first.”

  She was laying out the terms like this was a business transaction.

  It was sexy.

  “Let me hear it,” I said.

  “If we do get a place in Maine, I want to pay for at least half.”

  “Deal.”

  “And I want it to be small and intimate and cozy, so you’re always close to me.” She gazed at me through her lashes. “When we’re in Maine and away from our jobs, I always want you to be near me.”

  Fuck me, this girl is special.

  Outside this SUV was a six-million-dollar home that had been featured in Architectural Digest.

  That meant nothing to her.

  She wanted a hundred-thousand-dollar shack in Maine where she could see me from every room.

  That was what I loved about her.

  I put my hands on her cheeks and pulled her face up to mine. “I’m going to tell you everything this weekend; nothing will go unspoken. You will know all about my business and what it has grown into and the investment projects I’m involved in on the side.”

  “I can assure you, it’s not going to change the way I feel about you.”

  “Good, because, one day soon, that house out there is going to be half yours.”

  Her breathing changed.

  Her pulse quickened as I slipped my hand down her neck.

  The tip of my nose brushed hers, and she closed her eyes.

  We hadn’t even gotten out of the car.

  It didn’t matter.

  “Alix …” I grazed a thumb over her lips. “You weren’t in my life for more than two seconds when I knew I loved you.”

  Her eyes flickered open.

  That look returned to her face.

  The one she had worn during the sunrise on top of Cadillac Mountain.

  “I love—”

  I smashed my lips over hers, not letting her say another thing.

  I didn’t need to hear it.

  I already knew.

  And I’d be listening to those words for the rest of my life.

  Twenty-One

  Alix

  Present Day

  It was a sunny day.

  One where I didn’t have to work, so I went to Newbury Street to take some photos.

  I was trying to be more active on social media, making an effort to post a few pictures a week.

  I had so many followers; I felt pressure to keep them entertained. They came for the sun. That was what I believed anyway, so I needed to give them plenty of it.

  Shot after shot.

  Today, the object of the photo shoot was my hand as I held a cup of coffee and the way the sun made my skin glow. I zoomed in to the skin between my thumb and pointer finger as it surrounded the cup, the way the diamonds in my bracelet sparkled from it.

  I took close to thirty pictures with my phone, and I posted the one that had come out the best.

  Normally, I would have gotten up and gone back home.

  That was where I was comfortable spending most of my time.

  But I didn’t have the urge just yet.

  What pulsed inside me was a carefree sensation I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  My life was usually too structured to feel that.

  I had too many rituals.

  But the sun was making me smile.

  It was making me feel good.

  And so were the notifications that came across my screen, showing all the emoji replies.

  If visitors commented, they weren’t allowed to use words. That was the one rule I’d set when I opened this account. It was respected for the most part. When it wasn’t, the comment would get deleted.

  I took a break from my phone to peek at the people passing the bench. Most were in such a rush. I wondered where they were coming from and where they were headed.

  If they appreciated sunny days as much as I did.

  If they would recognize me without my hat and sunglasses on.

  I let that thought simmer while I glanced down at my cell again, seeing a text from Smith flash across the screen.

  Smith: We’re still on for tomorrow?

  Me: Yes.

  Smith: I’ll pick you up. Just let me know what time and your address.

  Me: This is my day of planning, so I’ll pick you up.

  Smith: I’ve never had a date start that way before.

  Me: Sounds like you’ve been on some pretty shitty dates.

  That sounded more like Rose than me. I just needed something punchy to prevent him from coming to my townhouse.

  It was a home I shared with Dylan.

  It didn’t feel right, bringing Smith there.

  Smith: Ha!

  Me: Send me your address. I’ll see you at 11.

  Hours later, while I was sitting in the living room of my townhouse, I pulled up the photo I had posted earlier and checked who had liked and commented on it.

  Rose had left an emoji.

  I continued scrolling and saw Smith’s name.

  My heart started to pound.

  He had liked the picture.

  He had followed me, too.

  I clicked on his profile, my finger hovering over the button to follow him back.

  Right before I pressed it, my attention was dragged away when I heard a sound from the kitchen.

  I hoped it was Dylan coming home early.

  I waited.

  One second, two seconds.

  Nothing.

  Slowly, I glanced back at the screen, my finger still in the same spot.

  I wasn’t sure why I was even contemplating it.

  I hit Follow.

  Then, I immediately got up from the couch and went over to the ottoman to get my purse. Once I found my keys inside, I placed them in the bowl on the table in the entryway, and I set my bag on the closest barstool in the kitchen.

  I followed the steps.

  Each one.

  And I waited for Dylan to come home.

  Twenty-Two

  Alix

  Present Day

  When the car pulled up to Sm
ith’s townhouse, I climbed out of the backseat and walked up his four front steps. I pressed the doorbell and waited for him to answer.

  I was so nervous; my back was covered in sweat.

  My hands were shaking.

  They trembled even harder when he opened the door.

  I couldn’t believe how good he looked.

  The first two times I’d seen him, he had just come from work and was all dressed up in a suit.

  But, now, he had on a pair of Converse with khaki shorts, a polo, and an NYU hat.

  Fancy wasn’t my first preference.

  This was.

  And it made him even more handsome.

  “Hi.” At some point, he’d said the same thing to me; I had just been too busy taking him in to respond. “Are you ready to go?”

  He shut the front door behind him. “I’m all yours.”

  My face flushed.

  My hands wrapped around the crossbody strap of my purse just so I had something to grip.

  With no idea what to say, I laughed and turned around to head for the car. Once I got into the backseat, I tried to relax.

  I wasn’t expecting to feel this jittery.

  It wasn’t the coffee I’d had this morning or the empty stomach I had right now.

  It was him.

  “I think you should give me a hint,” Smith teased as the driver pulled away from the curb.

  He sounded so sweet, and it caused me to smile. “You’re getting nothing out of me. The whole day is going to be a surprise.”

  A grin came across his face, and he looked out his window.

  “Is that where you went to school?” I asked. “NYU?”

  When he glanced at me, a warmth spread over my chest.

  “Yeah, for both of my degrees.”

  “Why’d you pick it?”

  “It’s one of the top law schools in the country, and it’s only four hours from Boston.”

  “Were you one of those kids who went home to do laundry?”

  He sighed, and that was when I heard the pain in his voice. “No, I went home to take care of my mom and sister.”

  I pushed myself into the corner of the seat, wishing it would just swallow me. “Smith, I’m sorry. This is the second time I’ve done that to you.”

  “Don’t apologize. The truth is, she never got it together after the divorce. That’s why I came back after law school and why I haven’t left.”

  He was getting personal again.

  It didn’t freak me out.

  It actually made me want to know more.

  “Where does Mom live?”

  He rubbed his hand over his lower thigh and said, “At the moment, a place in Roxbury.”

  Roxbury was a suburb of Boston that didn’t have the best reputation.

  It certainly wasn’t where I’d want either of my parents living.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, now staring at the hand circling his knee. “But I’ve tried everything. She doesn’t want help, and she won’t let me get her out of there because she says she’ll have to walk too far to buy drugs.”

  “Smith …” I waited for him to look at me. “That’s not what I’m thinking at all.”

  In my line of work, I heard stories like this all the time.

  A large percent of our emergencies were drug overdoses.

  It was a language I knew extremely well.

  “How long has she been using?”

  His eyes showed me the answer before he said, “Since I was a kid, years before my dad left. When he took off with everything, she lost it, and her periods of sobriety never lasted more than a few weeks, even when she was pregnant with my sister.”

  I had been afraid he was going to say that.

  “But it sounds like your sister is doing as amazing as you.”

  “She’s the only good thing that came out of my childhood.” His eyes lit up when he spoke about her. “Once she graduates and finishes law school, she’s coming to work for me.”

  “What an incredible big brother you are.”

  He shook his head. “No, she’s just a hell of a kid.”

  Dylan’s story was nothing like Smith’s.

  Both men had different types of pain, experiences, things that had fueled them to become self-made entrepreneurs.

  Smith’s was just a lot darker.

  And it didn’t sound like his situation was getting any better.

  I turned my head toward the window and saw we had reached the South End. We drove two more blocks, and then the driver parked along the curb.

  “Thank you,” I said as I opened the door and climbed out, waiting for Smith on the sidewalk.

  His hand went to my lower back as I led us toward the front of the building.

  I didn’t push his fingers away.

  I liked the way they felt.

  Right before we reached the entrance of the bakery, I stopped and looked at him. “Most people wouldn’t begin the tour here.”

  “You’re not like most, Alix. I learned that the night we met.”

  I smiled and tried not to let the tone of his voice affect me. “I’ve become somewhat of a foodie, which means I eat like a pregnant woman.”

  He laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Except I have this thing for chocolate cake, and I like to start my mornings with it. I’ve scoured the entire city to find the best. And it’s here”—I pointed at the door in front of us—“at Nona’s. So, this is what we’re having for brunch.” I paused. “You do like cake, don’t you?”

  I tried to remember some of the food pictures he’d posted and if any were of dessert.

  He laughed again, his grip on me becoming a little tighter. “Of course I do.”

  I opened the door, and the smell of chocolate hit me in the face.

  “Damn,” I heard him say from behind me. When I looked over my shoulder, he was gazing at the display of cookie sandwiches that were filled with buttercream frosting. “You’ve got good taste, Alix.”

  Twenty-Three

  Dylan

  Two Years and Nine Months Ago

  Five months.

  That was how long Alix had been in my life.

  Within that short amount of time, she’d moved in with me. My interior designer had remodeled Alix’s side of the closet, and my master bathroom was in the middle of a full renovation.

  The changes were for her—to make her feel more at home in my place.

  But neither project had kicked off as smoothly as I wanted.

  Because, once I showed her the mock-ups my designer had put together, Alix had shot down both ideas. She didn’t want a bigger tub, and she certainly didn’t want half the closet.

  It all came down to money and how she didn’t want me to spend any on her.

  Spoiling her was one of my favorite things to do, and I had no plans to stop.

  That was what I told her whenever she tried to fight me on the construction, and it would shut her right up.

  That girl only ever wanted one thing.

  My time.

  I did a hell of a job giving her plenty of it.

  Until I didn’t.

  That was what led to our first serious argument.

  It had taken place over the days leading up to a holiday weekend.

  I’d been working eighty hours a week for several weeks straight, only coming home to shower and change before heading back to my office. My business was growing, and with that came more responsibility than I’d ever imagined.

  Since I’d been spending so much time away from Alix, I decided to take her to Lake Tahoe for the long weekend.

  She’d enjoyed our last trip there.

  She’d like this one even more.

  I made sure she didn’t have to work, and I cleared my schedule. I put in to have maintenance and cleaning done on my private jet for the morning we were supposed to leave.

  The last thing I’d expected was for the plane to already be booked.

  As I searched our syste
m, I saw that the entire fleet had been reserved for the whole weekend.

  I had nothing to fly.

  No way to get us to the other side of the country.

  Alix suggested we take a commercial flight.

  I laughed at the idea.

  I was the owner of an extremely well-known, successful private airline. My days of flying commercial had long been over. The last thing I needed was my competition seeing a picture of me stepping onto a Delta flight.

  I’d be the butt of every goddamn joke in the industry.

  So, I canceled the trip.

  Alix and I would hang out at home—something we hadn’t done in at least a month.

  But, as the weekend approached, I received a call from the realtor I’d hired in Maine. She’d gotten a tip on a house in Bar Harbor that hadn’t yet hit the market. The pocket listing was everything I wanted—two stories directly on the water with unobstructed views, a boat dock, private driveway, four bedrooms, and five bathrooms.

  It was perfect for us, and it was an incredible investment opportunity as well.

  All I had to do was convince Alix that this was the house we should spend our summers in.

  The night I was going to talk to her about it, I got back late, knowing she’d already be home from her shift.

  Except she wasn’t.

  And she didn’t walk through the door until after midnight.

  I’d been sitting in the dark living room.

  Waiting.

  For three fucking hours.

  My patience thinning as my texts had gone unanswered.

  When she finally came in, she went straight to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and drank it without even shutting the door.

  As she put down the empty bottle, I said, “Didn’t you get my messages?”

  She took out another beer and brought it into the living room, sitting in the seat across from mine.

  There were bags under her eyes and paleness to her skin.

  “I saw them come through,” she said. “I just didn’t have a chance to get back to you.”

  She’d had a long day.

  I’d had one, too.