by Carian Cole
“That man is crazy in love with you. I’ve only known him for a few years, but he talked about you all the time. We were all so excited to hear you were back. If you ever want to get together, go shopping, take the dogs to the park, just call me.”
“I’d really like that.” Thank God, this girl is nicer than Sydni.
Asia touches my arm to get my attention. She appears to be a little younger than Evie and Ivy, Lukas’s wife, whom I met earlier.
“I was in kind of a similar situation to you,” Asia says. “It’s different, but in some ways, the same. Talon and I got married as total strangers. We didn’t meet until the day we got married.”
My mouth falls open. Why would someone do something crazy like that?
I shake my head a little. “I’m sorry, I’m confused. How did you get married if you didn’t know each other?”
“It was part of an experiment. Aria was part of a team of relationship experts where they paired strangers together to get married. It’s a long story.” Asia waves her hand in the air. “But we got married and moved in together, and we didn’t know each other. At all. We didn’t even really like each other at first.” Her nose crinkles as she laughs. “It took us a while to get to know each other and learn about each other. We had a lot of fights and misunderstandings.”
“That’s an understatement.” Evie leans toward us. “She and Talon went through a lot.”
Asia smiles dreamily. “We fell in love, though. He drives me crazy most days, but I can’t imagine my life without him.”
I shake my head in awe of their situation and how they willingly agreed to such a unique relationship. I’m basically living that same thing, and it’s not exactly fun.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” I say. “But you’re right. I guess Asher and I are in a similar situation. We’re basically strangers to each other.”
“I totally get it. I know how frustrating and confusing it can be. If you need to talk or vent, just call me. Evie talked me off the ledge more times than I can count. I would’ve been lost without her. On top of what you’re going through, it’s hard being married to a musician. They’re basically their own species. Us girls have become like sisters, and now you’re one of us.”
I feel a little teary-eyed surrounded by all these caring women who aren’t judging me at all for what’s happened to me or trying to upset me. They genuinely seem to want to help me. I like the fact that they didn’t know Ember pre-accident.
They’re also not snarky trouble-makers like Sydni.
“Usually once a month we all get together and go to lunch. Maybe next time you can join us?” Evie asks. “I can pick you up if you can’t drive.”
“That sounds great.”
Do I even have a car? I haven’t seen an extra car sitting in the garage. I’m sure if had a car years ago, Asher must’ve sold it by now. It wouldn’t make sense to keep my car given he had no idea if I’d ever come out of the coma. Since my discharge from the facility, Sarah and Asher drive me anywhere I need to go, but I’m fairly sure I’d be able to drive by myself now if I wanted to.
I’m pulled out of my rambling thoughts by the sound of a guitar being tuned. The guys are perched on wooden stools in front of us, and seeing them brings a lightning-fast feeling of déjà vu that disappears just as quickly as it came. I’ve seen them—just like this—before. Storm and Asher with their acoustic guitars and Lukas holding a violin.
I try to capture the fleeting memory before it fades, but it’s too late.
It’s gone.
Asher grins as the rest of the guests slowly gather around. Clearing his throat, he grabs everyone’s attention. “I wanted to thank everyone for coming out here tonight to meet my adorable granddaughter, Tia Nevaeh, which I will literally never be able to spell, and to welcome my beautiful wife, Ember, back home with us. I’ve been blessed with amazing miracles, and I’m grateful to all of you for being part of our family and celebrating with us.”
Putting his hands together in front of his face as if in prayer, he closes his eyes and does a quick bow.
“And now…some tunes. Hope you enjoy.”
My heart does a flip-flop when he winks at me and strums a slow intro before singing a raspy, soul-tugging love song:
“If you only knew, my love
How long I’ve waited for you
How many times I cried for you
What I would do for just one moment with you.
Where did you go, baby, why did you go?
I just can’t move from this place.”
There’s no microphone. No amps. No stage.
Just three guys playing a song on the lawn with a fire glowing behind them.
But, wow, I’m pulled in, drunk on Asher’s voice, the way his lips move, the subtle shake of his head as he loses himself in the lyrics. It’s impossible to not get caught up in the rapture that is Asher Valentine.
Goose bumps sprinkle on my arms as his voice rises, then falls to a deep growl.
“And I’d diiiiiiiiieeeeeee for just one touch, just one more fuckin’ taste.”
Asher Valentine oozes emotion. He doesn’t hide it, deny it, or run from it. He swallows it like a pill and lets it slowly cure him or kill him.
The lyrics are tiptoeing into my head, sneaking down into my soul. Rustling emotions like hidden love notes found on Valentine’s Day.
How very fitting.
I’m quite sure this song is about me.
For me.
Oh, Asher. What have I taken from you? And how can I give it back?
Chapter Thirty-Two
The master bedroom is like a gateway to the past, present, and future. These walls have seen and heard everything that I can’t remember. We slept in this bed. Made love in it. Talked all night in it. It’s the heart of the house, the keeper of all wishes and dreams. It’s where Asher mourned and hoped as half of the once whole us. The room comforted him. Held him when I couldn’t. It helped keep memories of me alive.
Ember Valentine is stamped all over this room. Her photographs, her clothing, her special belongings, her scent. I belong here. Asher wants me in here. It’s my room, and I’m determined to walk through the door of this room and feel totally at home.
Not as a guest.
Not as an intruder.
Not as a mistress.
But as Mrs. Asher Valentine.
It’s easier said than done, though. My brain hasn’t completely caught up with the fact that I am Ember. New Ember. But still, real Ember.
I fold down the comforter and fluff a bunch of pillows up against the headboard. We’ve been spending a lot more time together in this room—watching movies, playing board games, cuddling, and falling asleep together. The feeling of I’m just visiting—this isn’t my room is slowly fading. It’s starting to feel right.
I glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. Asher should be just about done with his workout and will be up here soon to watch a movie… and maybe more. Lately, things have been heating up between us. Kisses are more passionate. Touches are more sensual. My body is waking up, responding to him in all the ways a healthy woman’s body should. The emotional and physical numbness I felt in the beginning is dwindling. Asher and I had an amazing sensual relationship from what I’ve read in the diaries, and now that I have feelings for him, I want that part too.
I pad across the soft carpet to the adjoining bathroom to brush my hair and dab a little of his favorite perfume on. Before I leave, I stare at myself in the mirror, and my smile slowly fades.
Sydni’s coma-diet comment is still echoing around in my brain, along with her hints about how close she and Asher were. I’m fully aware of the effect Asher has on women, but I believe him when he tells me he has always been faithful in every way.
He waited for me.
But…now that I’m here…is he attracted to me like he once was?
I’m not blind. The house is full of pictures of her. With her curves and glowing skin and all that sassy confidenc
e—with her big, perky boobs and peachy, round booty. Pre-accident Ember was a beautiful rock goddess.
The other women are gorgeous too. Evie, Asia, Ivy, Tabi, Rayne, Kenzi. Even Aria is stunning. The entire circle of Valentine friends and family has been blessed with hot men and beautiful women.
I don’t feel like I have to be beautiful or that I’ll be judged by my looks, but I want to feel pretty and confident. And of course, I want my husband to be attracted to me.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly remove the black Ashes & Embers T-shirt Asher gave me. It’s faded, and the neck has been cut wider to fall off the shoulder. I slide off my cotton panties. Standing straight, I study my body in the full-length mirror to gauge the state of my current sex appeal.
It’s not good.
I was proud of myself at my last weekly weigh-in for gaining two pounds.
But at five foot seven and one hundred and ten pounds, I look extremely thin. With clothes on, it’s not so bad. But naked, I look like someone who’s been sick or starving.
My spirits plummet further as my gaze roves over the scars from the multiple IV ports and feeding tube that had been in my body for years. My ribs and collarbone are glaringly visible, jutting from my skin. My chest has flattened to an A-cup with zero cleavage. My cheeks are still a bit hollow and not in the popular contouring way.
I can’t bring myself to turn around to see how flat my butt is or how far my hip bones stick out from a side view.
My doctors have told me this is normal progress. It’s harder for patients like me to gain weight and muscle fast—especially since I have no urges to eat a lot. When I do eat, I tend to choose low calorie and low protein meals and snacks because they appeal to me. Ice cream is really the only fattening food I eat, and I only eat that when Asher and I have it together late at night.
I’m slowly working on all that, though, in the hopes of getting some curves back.
Chewing my lip, I quickly pull my clothes back on, wondering if I should wear pajama bottoms to bed instead of just panties, even though I’m more comfortable this way.
Feeling a little sick, I go back to the bed and perch on my side. Asher hasn’t seen me totally naked yet, and after what I just saw in the mirror, I’m not sure I want him to.
“Hey, babe.”
I pull a pillow over my lap as he crosses the room, all shiny with sweat, to give me a kiss.
“Hi…”
“I’m gonna take a quick shower. Then I’m all yours.”
With a wink and a flash of his crooked smile, he disappears into the bathroom.
Thank God the mirror can’t show him my earlier reflection and tell him to run.
Just when I was starting to feel confident enough to give in to my feelings of attraction and trust for Asher, now I feel slammed with sexual insecurities.
What if he’s disappointed after waiting almost eight years? Maybe he thought my body would get back to normal much faster. What if I don’t know how to please him sexually?
Teddy stares at me from the floor and puts his paw on my knee.
“What do you think, Teddy? Do you think I’m pretty?” He jumps up on the bed and licks my face until I giggle.
“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” I say, and he curls up next to me, seemingly pleased with himself for making me smile.
Tonight is supposed to be a fun night, so before I let myself go down the rabbit hole of insecurity, I grab the journal I brought in here, hoping it will distract me.
Dear Diary,
Guess who I am? Mrs. Asher Valentine. Oh my God, I can’t stop writing it and saying it. We had a small wedding, just our closest family and friends. My parents didn’t come. No surprise there. :( I’m over it.
Asher’s dad walked me down the aisle. He’s been more of a father to me, anyway. Ronnie sat me down before the wedding and we had a long talk. He told me to always be me. To be a good mother and wife, but never lose myself. He told me to love Asher with all my heart, always be honest, but put him in his place when he needs it. He told me to be patient when marriage gets hard. He told me to never forget that Asher and I are best friends, and sometimes we will fail—both together and separate. He told me to always learn from our experiences, and always strive for happiness above all else. He told me to never yell, never say hurtful things, and never part angry.
I can see where Asher has gotten all his good qualities. We have our own apartment now, and Tor lives upstairs in the loft. I love Tor, he’s like a brother to me. He’s such a big help to me and Asher. Kenzi is just crazy about him. Sometimes I think she loves Tor more than she loves us.
Now we can really pursue our dreams. Our band has been playing a few local gigs. We actually got paid! It’s like a dream. It’s hard, though. I thought it might be easier after we graduated, but now we work more. It’s hard to raise a baby, work, practice, write songs, clean the apartment, spend time together, see our friends. But we’re doing it.
I just want to make sure that no matter what, Asher gets to practice and write songs. I refuse to let anything get in the way of his dreams. He’s so incredibly talented, and I just know someday he’s going to be famous. I love music, but I know I could live without it and be happy doing something else as long as I have my husband and our daughter. Asher can’t. Music is his world. He was born to sing, just like his dad.
Back to the wedding—it was beautiful and our honeymoon was amazing. It was sweet, fun, and romantic and we came home even more in love. I love my husband.
