45
Elizabeth
“So, are you two like…together now?” Faye asked one night as we sat on the seesaw in the park. Emma was running around with another kid, playing on the slides and swings. It’d been a few months since the accident with Tanner, and ever since then, Tristan had been back in Mr. Henson’s shop, turning it into his own dream.
“I don’t know. I mean, we’re good, but I don’t know what it means. I don’t think I have to know what it means, either. It’s just nice to have him around.”
Faye furrowed her eyebrows. “Nope,” she said, jumping off the seesaw and sending me slamming against the ground.
“Ouch!” I said, rubbing my behind. “You could’ve given me some warning about your leap of faith.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” She snickered. “Now, come on.”
“Where to?”
“Tristan’s shop. This whole ‘I don’t know what we are but I’m okay with it’ bullshit you’re talking about is annoying, and we are going to demand answers from him. Come on, Emma!” she shouted toward the slide.
Emma hurried over. “Are we going home, Mama?” she asked me.
“Nope. We are going to see Dick,” Faye said.
“You mean Tick?” Emma asked.
Faye laughed. “Yeah, that’s what I mean.”
They started walking down the street and I hurried behind them. “We should really do this another day. He’s been stressed out with the store, working with his dad to get everything set up for the grand opening next week. I don’t think we should bother him.” They didn’t listen, just kept up their brisk pace. When we got to the shop, all the lights were out. “See? He’s not even here.”
Faye rolled her eyes. “I bet he’s just sleeping somewhere.” She turned the doorknob—which was unlocked—and pushed her way in.
“Faye!” I whisper-shouted. Emma followed her inside, and I hurried behind her, closing the door. “We shouldn’t be here.”
“Well, maybe I shouldn’t,” she agreed, flipping on the light switch, illuminating thousands of white feathers sprinkled around the room. “But you definitely should be.” She walked over to me and kissed my forehead. “You deserve to be happy, Liz.” She turned and left the shop, leaving Emma and I standing still.
“Do you see all the feathers, Mama?!” Emma said excitedly.
I walked around the room, touching Tristan’s wooden masterpieces, which were covered in white feathers. “Yes, baby. I see them.”
“I’m in love with you,” a deep voice said, forcing me to spin around. At the front door stood Tristan in an all black suit with his hair slicked back. My heart skipped a few beats, but in the moment they didn’t seem that important.
“I’m in love with you,” I replied.
“You two haven’t seen any of my pieces yet, have you?” he asked, walking around the room, looking at all of the wooden carvings that he and his father had created.
“No. It’s amazing, though. You’re amazing. This store is going to do great.”
“I don’t know,” he said, sitting on top of a dresser. The knobs on the dresser drawers were carved with words, and the dresser drawers had different lines from children’s novels carved into them. It was stunning. “My dad kind of backed out on the idea of opening the store with me.”
“What?” I asked, confused. “Why? I thought this was a dream you both shared?”
He shrugged. “He said he just got his son back, and he didn’t want to lose him by going into business together. I mean, I kind of understand, but I don’t think I can do this alone. I just need to find a new partner.”
“How do you even start looking?” I asked, sitting beside him while Emma ran around the room picking up white feathers.
“I don’t know. It needs to be the right person. Someone who’s smart. Who understands interior design a bit, because I only know how to sell wood pieces, but I think the store would do better if we had more household items, you know?” My cheeks heated up as he kept speaking. “Do you happen to know anyone who might be into interior design? I need to hire someone soon.”
I smiled wide. “I think I might know someone.”
He slowly ran his finger across my bottom lip before he hopped off the dresser and stepped in front of me, placing himself between my legs. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, and I’ll probably make more. I mess things up. I messed us up. I know you can never truly forgive me for what I’ve done, for how I left, and I don’t expect you to. But I’m never going to give up. I’m never going to stop trying to fix this. To fix us. I love you, Lizzie, and if you give me the chance, I will spend the rest of my tomorrows proving to you that you have all of me. The good, the bad, and the ugly parts.”
“Tristan,” I whispered. I began to cry and he wrapped his arms around me. “I missed you so much,” I said, falling against his chest.
He pulled open the drawer on my left side; a small black box was sitting inside. Picking it up, he opened it and I saw a beautiful, handcrafted wooden ring with a large diamond in the center. “Marry me.”
“I…” My eyes moved over to Emma. “I have baggage. I’m part of a package deal, Tristan. I wouldn’t expect you to have to step up into Emma’s life, but with me comes her.”
He pulled open the drawer on my right side, which held a smaller black box. My heart melted right then and there. He opened it up, and I saw a smaller, almost identical ring.
“I love her, Lizzie. I adore her, and there is nothing about her that is baggage. Emma is a luxury. I’ll take care of her for the rest of my life because it would be an honor. Because I love you. I love your heart, I love your soul, I love you, Elizabeth, and I’m never going to stop loving you or that beautiful girl of yours.” He walked over to Emma, lifted her up, and sat her on the dresser beside me. “Emma and Elizabeth, will you both marry me?” he asked, holding the two ring boxes in his hands.
I was speechless, unable to find any words. My sweet baby poked me in the side with that big goofy grin upon her lips—the same one I was probably wearing on my face. “Mama, say yes!” she told me.
I did exactly as she said. “Yes, Tristan. Yes over and over again.” He smiled.
“What about you, Emma? Will you marry me?”
She tossed her hands in the air and screamed the loudest yes I’d ever heard. He slid the rings onto both of our fingers, and a few seconds later, the shop began to fill with all our best friends and family. Emma went rushing over to Zeus, who came dashing her way, telling the faithful dog that they were now each other’s family.
Everyone began cheering and congratulating us on our future together, and I felt as if my dream had somehow turned into my new reality.
Tristan pulled me toward him, my lips connecting with his as he kissed me for the first time in what felt like centuries. He held his lips to mine, tasting all of me, and I kissed him back, silently promising to love him from that day forth. Our foreheads pressed against one another, and I sighed, staring down at the ring on my finger. “Does this mean you want to hire me?”
He swept me into his arms and kissed me deeply, filling me up with happiness, hope, and all of his love. “I do.”
Epilogue
Tristan
Five Years Later.
Under the wooden dining room table that Emma had helped me build, I saw the three of them sleeping. They’d transformed the table into a fort, the same way they did every Saturday night when we watched movies and camped out inside our house. Emma claimed to be too old to play make-believe anymore, but when her baby brother, Colin, asked her to play, she couldn’t say no.
Colin was handsome, and very much his mother’s son. He laughed like her, cried like her, and loved like her too. Each time he kissed my forehead, I knew I was the luckiest man alive.
I crawled under the table next to my beautiful wife and placed my lips against her growing stomach. Within a few weeks we would be bringing yet another miracle into the world. We would be adding yet another beauty to
our family.
For a long time, I just stared at Lizzie, Emma, and Colin. Zeus joined us underneath the table too, snuggling under Emma’s arm. How had I gotten a second chance at life? How had I become so happy? I remembered the moment I’d died. I remembered sitting in the hospital room when the doctor told me Charlie was gone. I’d left that day too. Life stopped existing, and I stopped breathing.
Then Elizabeth came and resurrected me. She breathed life into my lungs, making the dark shadows flood with light. A light so bright that I slowly began to believe in happily ever todays. No more pains of yesterdays, no more fears of tomorrow. In that moment, I stopped replaying the past and didn’t choose to reach for the future. Instead, I chose us as we were. I chose today.
Some days were still hard, and others, the easiest. We loved in a way that only brought more love. During the light days, we held each other close. During the dark days, we held each other closer.
I lay beside Elizabeth, wrapping her against my body, and she pulled in closer to me. Her brown eyes opened, and her sweet smile rose on her lips. “Are you good?” she whispered.
I kissed her earlobe and nodded once. “I’m good.”
Her eyes faded closed, and I felt her exhale against my lips. With each exhale, I took in her breath, I drank her into me, realizing that she was mine. Forever and always, no matter what the future may hold. Each day, I longed for her. Each day, I loved her more. As my eyes faded and her hands lay against my chest, I knew life was never truly broken; it was simply bruised some days, and bruises healed with time. Time was able to make me whole again.
My children were my best friends. All of them. Charlie, Emma, Colin, and the unnamed angel resting within my beautiful wife’s stomach. They were all so smart, so funny, and so deeply loved. I knew it made no sense, but sometimes when I looked into Emma’s eyes, I could almost see Charlie smiling my way, telling me he and Jamie were okay.
Then there was Elizabeth.
The beautiful woman who loved me when I didn’t deserve to be loved. Her touch healed me, her love saved me. She was more than any words could ever convey.
I treasured her.
I cherished her for everything she was, and everything she wasn’t. I cherished her in the sunbeams and in the shadows. I cherished her loudly, I cherished her with whispers. I cherished her when we fought, I cherished her when we were peaceful.
It was quite obvious what she was to me, it was so clear why I always wanted her near.
She was simply the air I breathed.
As I fell asleep under that wooden table, my children snuggling against their mama and me, I laid my lips against my wife’s and kissed her gently. “I love you,” I whispered.
She smiled in her dreams.
Because she already knew.
The End.
Acknowledgments
To my amazing group of critique partners who are easily some of the most amazing women I’ve ever came across. You all are beyond talented and I’m glad to have you each in my life!
To Alison, Allison, Christy, and Beverly: Thank you for taking the time to beta read this novel for me! Your notes and comments have helped me so much and I couldn’t think of a better team of ladies to be working with!
Thank you to my amazing editor Caitlin at Edits by C. Marie: You are my superhero.
To my proofreaders Emily Lawrence and Stacy Kestwick: My fairy godmothers!
To Danielle Allen and Olivia Linden: I love you, I love you, I love you some more.
To those who made my novel beautiful: My cover model Franggy for the lovely cover image, and my cover designer, Staci, from Quirky Bird.
A GIANT thanks to all of the bloggers and readers who spread the word of my novels and give them a chance! I cannot express how much you all mean to me! Thank you!
Lastly a big thank you to my family—my life. Thank you for believing in me always. Mom: I love you to the moon and back.
The Fire Between High & Lo
The Fire Between High & Lo
The Fire Between High & Lo
Copyright © 2016 by Brittainy C. Cherry
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
Published: Brittainy C. Cherry 2016
[email protected]
Editing: Edits by C. Marie and Librum Artis Editorial Services
Proofreading: Judy’s Proofreading
Cover Photography: Franggy Yanez
Cover Design: Quirky Bird
Created with Vellum
For those with a fire inside them, thriving for better tomorrows.
For those who need to know that their past mistakes do not define them.
This one’s for you.
Prologue
Alyssa
The boy in the red hoodie kept staring at me in the checkout line.
I’d seen him before, many times, including earlier that Monday morning. Every day he and his friends hung out in the alleyway behind the grocery store where I worked. I’d see them when my boss made me break down boxes and toss them outside.
The boy in the red hoodie always showed up with his friends each day. They’d make a ton of noise, smoking cigarettes and cursing up a storm. He stood out, because the other guys laughed and smiled. He seemed mute, almost as if his mind lived far away from his surroundings. His lips hardly ever turned up; I wondered if he knew what smiling was. Maybe he was a person who simply existed instead of lived.
Sometimes we’d lock eyes, and I’d always look away.
I found it hard to look into his caramel eyes, because they looked sadder than any eyes his age should’ve ever looked. Deep, purplish bags sat under them, along with wrinkle lines, but still, he was handsome. A handsomely tired boy. No boy should’ve looked that exhausted, or that gorgeous, all at once. I was almost certain he’d lived one hundred years of struggle all within his youth. I could tell he’d been through worse private wars than most of the people walking the earth just by the way he stood: shoulders rounded forward, back never straight.
But not all of him looked so broken.
His medium-length dark hair was always perfect. Always. Sometimes he’d pull out a small comb and run it through his locks, as if he was a greaser from the 1950s. He always wore the same kind of outfits, too: either a plain white T-shirt, a plain black T-shirt, and sometimes the red hoodie. His jeans were always black, along with his black shoes that were tied with white shoestrings. I didn’t know why, but even though the outfits were simple, they gave me goose bumps.
I noticed his hands, too. His hands were constantly wrapped around a lighter he flicked on and off, nonstop. I wondered if he was even aware that he did it. It seemed almost as if the flame shooting from the lighter was a part of his existence.
A mundane expression, tired eyes, perfect hair, and a lighter in hand.
What kind of name would fit with a guy like that?
Hunter, maybe. It sounded kind of bad boyish—which he was, I assumed. Or Gus. Gus the greaser. Greasy Gus. Or Mikey—because it sounded sweet, which would be the complete opposite of what he seemed to be, an
d I enjoyed things like that.
But, his name didn’t currently matter.
What mattered was that he was standing across from me. He showed more expression than I’d ever seen from him as he stood in the alleyway. His face was beet red and his fingers were fidgety, as he stood in my checkout line at the grocery store. There was such a strong, poignant embarrassment in his eyes as he swiped his food stamps card over and over again. Each time it was declined. Insufficient funds. Each time he grew gloomier. Insufficient funds. He bit his bottom lip. “That doesn’t make sense,” he murmured to himself.
“I can try it up here on my register if you want. Sometimes those machines are wonky.” I offered him a smile, but he didn’t smile back. His face was filled with stern lines of coldness. His brows were knit and aggressive, yet he handed me his card. I slid it through my machine and frowned. Insufficient funds. “It’s saying there isn’t enough money on the card.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” he mumbled.
Rude.
“This is bullshit.” He huffed, his chest rising and falling. “We just got money on it yesterday.”
Who was ‘we’? None of your business, Alyssa. “Do you have another card we could try?”
“If I had another card, don’t you think I would’ve tried it?” he barked, making me jump a little. Hunter. He had to be a Hunter. Mean, bad boy Hunter. Or maybe Travis. I’d read a book once with a Travis in it, and he was a very bad boy. Travis was so bad that I had to close the book to keep myself from blushing and screaming all at once.
The Elements Series Complete Box Set Page 26
