by Arthurs, Nia
“The police did their jobs and ruled it a suicide so it doesn’t matter.” His nose flares. “Why are you bringing that up now?”
I lower my voice. “Whether it was an accident or not, we know what really happened that night. Diandre was into Maribella. It doesn’t bother you at all that you’re with her?”
Seb scoots his chair back abruptly. “I love Maribella. Back then and now. She’s the only good thing in my life.” He gives me a hard stare. “Are you suggesting I give her up because of something that happened ten years ago?”
I raise my chin but keep quiet.
“You’re stuck in the past, Axle. We’re almost thirty. We’ve got jobs. Loved ones to protect. Move on. Get over it.” A vein pops to life in his temple and he whirls around. “Don’t let your stupid conscience ruin everything.”
“Seb, listen—”
He flicks up a hand, storms toward the living room and slams the door.
10
Ember
I cover my mouth with a hand to muffle my laughter as I stare at Axle’s text. The night he dropped me home, he asked me to dinner. I instantly agreed, but two days have passed and I haven’t been able to make time. Preparing my mother to move back home demanded more from me than expected.
We’ve been texting nonstop though. And I want to see him. To the point I’ve stalked his social media pages just a bit. But I think going slow and feeling each other out through text is a good thing.
Axle’s face is so attractive it turns my brain to mush. Whenever he wields those piercing grey eyes at me, I melt. Drooling over him is not very conducive to a mature conversation.
Behind the screen of a cellphone, I can be myself. Crack jokes. Share personal things. Flirt in a way I wouldn’t be brave enough to do to his face. And Axle flirts back. Hard.
I don’t have much experience in dating, but I sense that he’s genuinely interested in me. Whether he wants a fling or a genuine relationship, I’m not sure. Hell, a relationship might not even be possible given he lives halfway across the country and I’m moving back home with my mom.
But I choose not to focus on the details. For the first time ever, my heart flutters when I think of a man. I’m excited whenever his name pops up on my phone. Goosebumps trail every inch of my skin when I remember his touch.
That’s a feeling I want to hold on to. Forget the rest.
“Ember?” A gentle tap on my arm spins me around. Aunt B studies me with her sharp, all-knowing eyes. “Did you hear me?”
I shove my cell phone into my pocket. “Sorry. What was that?”
“Who were you texting?”
“Nobody,” I say quickly. Too quickly.
Her eyes dip to my phone. A sly grin curves the corners of her plump lips. “Was it Axle?”
“No.”
“It was him.” She raps her heels on the floor. “What? He couldn’t handle two days without you?”
“It’s not like that.”
“What is it like then?”
“He’s a friend.”
“A friend?” Aunt B chuckles. “Are you kidding me? If I had a friend that looked like Axle, I’d be all over that.”
“You’re right. Maybe ‘friend’ is being generous. We just met. We’re practically strangers.”
“Liar.”
“You know, I’m starting to think your name calling is slightly abusive.”
She raises a fist. “You want to see abusive?”
“Alright,” a new voice enters our conversation, “I’m all set.”
Aunt B and I turn and face the woman entering the room. She’s wearing a wrinkled T-shirt and khakis. A large white purse is held in her tight grip.
Mom.
She’s not even forty, but she looks like a sixty-year old woman. Her once taunt skin is sallow and her lips are thin, stretched across her face.
The fat beneath her chin and arms jiggles as she moves. Pills and weed aren’t Mom’s only guilty pleasures. The woman is always munching on snacks. I have no idea where she gets them because I make a concerted effort to buy fruits and vegetables when I go shopping.
Watching her always fills me with a mixture of pain and gratefulness. I’m happy she’s alive. There were days I thought she’d overdose and end up with Diandre. But there were also days I wished she would leave, free me from the burden of constant worry and disappointment.
I’m glad Aunt B and the rest of the family are stepping in and taking the reins. Lord knows, they should have done it when I was fifteen and not now that I’m a full-grown woman with all these scars.
But I’m not bitter.
Better late than never, right?
“Nina,” Aunt B swivels toward her sister, “let me take that.”
Mom clutches the bag stubbornly. “I’m not an invalid, Bridgette. I can handle my own luggage.”
“Of course.” Aunt B backs away with her hands in the air. “Are you ready to go?”
Mom frowns. “What’s the rush?”
If we leave now, we’ll get back early in case someone—” Aunt B throws me a look, “wants to go on a date or anything.”
“A date?” Mom glances at me, eyes wide.
“Aunt B’s just kidding.” I let out a forced laugh.
Mom didn’t allow me to date growing up, but that wasn’t a result of her grief about Diandre. After two failed relationships, Mom gave up on finding love and just reveled in bashing all men.
She would have a heart attack if she knew how many guys I’d dated in secret. I’m pretty sure she expects me to stay single and glued to her side all my life.
“Who’s dating?” Mom demands.
Aunt B glances between us, bewildered. “Uh, no one. Ember’s right. I was just kidding.”
“Men are all good for nothing,” Mom mutters. “You can’t trust them. Not a single one. Except my Diandre, of course.” She places a hand to her chest and squeezes her eyes shut. A tear runs down her swollen cheek.
“Of course. We all love Diandre.” Aunt B rubs Mom’s back.
“I see him sometimes.”
Aunt B flinches. “That’s… great.”
I hang back, happy that someone else is listening to Mom’s spiels for once.
She trembles slightly. Her voice cracks. “When I’m at my calmest…”
Translation: when she’s high on pills.
“…I can see him. He’s smiling at me. Sometimes he’s frowning. I can’t hear him, but I know that he’s there.”
“Uh-huh.” Aunt B takes my mother’s hand. “I’m sure Diandre would want you to be safe and happy. That’s why we’re moving back home. You’re happiest when you’re around the people that you love.”
“Exactly.” Mom jerks her chin down.
From the sluggish way she’s moving, I can tell she’s taken a few pills. She’ll probably sleep through the ride. We might not even be able to wake her up to move her into the house if she used a strong prescription.
A sick feeling creeps over me. She’ll die if she continues like this, but I’m at a complete loss. Hopefully, my grandparents can convince Mom to go to rehab or get some counseling. Even if it doesn’t cure her, at least she’ll be on her way to getting better.
Aunt B and I help Mom into the car. As predicted, she falls asleep before we’ve even left city limits.
Aunt B glances at her in the rearview mirror and then sighs. “I didn’t know it was that bad. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I should have. I’m sorry. Mom didn’t want any of you to worry.”
“Nina was moody since we were teenagers but this… it feels like she’s become a different person.”
“After Diandre died, Mom was quiet. She slept a lot, and she was very rarely belligerent. Unless I tried to convince her to stop smoking and taking pills. Then she got angry.”
“Did she ever…” Aunt B adjusts her grip on the steering wheel, “hit you?”
I shake my head. “I stayed out of her way when she was in one of her moods. Mom’s always been a little emot
ional. It’s why I preferred staying with Dad. Diandre was the only one who could calm her down. Guess I’m not as good as he is.”
“Ember, you’re perfect.”
I shrug.
She clears her throat. “It must have been hard.”
“It was my life. Plus, I had a break when I visited my dad for a week in the summer. I survived. Mom only got this bad when I started working. By that time, I was already an adult.”
“Still…”
“Aunt B,” I shake my head, “stop. It’s not like I was abused or neglected. You don’t have to feel guilty.”
But I can tell that my words haven’t assured her at all. Aunt B is uncharacteristically quiet the entire drive back. It’s easy to guess what she’s thinking. That guilt is something I’ve struggled with too.
When we love someone, we take on their failures as our own. Wondering where we went wrong, where we tripped up. I’ve had to learn that Mom’s choices, her mistakes, are hers alone.
The miles fly by.
I check my phone when we get back to town. Axle hasn’t responded to my text yet.
I wonder if he’s busy?
“Ember!” Aunt B yells. “Could you grab the wheelchair?”
I stuff my cell phone into my pocket. “Coming!”
Over the next few hours, I focus on my mother as we help her into my grandmother’s house and get her situated in bed. She falls asleep soon after greeting everyone.
The mood in the living room is sober, shocked. This is the first time my aunts and uncles have seen Mom in all her drugged up glory. I wonder how Mom will respond to her siblings being nosy and trying to straighten out her bad habits.
If I know her, she’ll fight tooth and nail. But maybe, just maybe, the collective strength of our family will be able to wear her down. Because I sure couldn’t.
When I leave the ranch to return to Aunt B’s condo, I’m hopeful that things will get better.
The moment we step inside her apartment, Aunt B flings herself into the couch and lets out a sigh that’s hard enough to blow the ceiling and the roof off.
I drop beside her, amused. “You sound like an old woman.”
“It’s been a long day. I’m going to shower, stuff my face with ice cream and watch unrealistic romance movies. Want to join?”
“I wish I could…”
“Oh?” Her eyes sparkle with mischief even though the lines of exhaustion are still on her face. “You have plans with Axle?”
“Not officially.”
“Do you need to borrow my clothes again?”
I laugh. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll pass. Dressing up isn’t my thing anyway.”
“Suit yourself.” Aunt B gets out of the couch and slogs to the bathroom, rubbing her neck all the way.
I smile and slip my phone out of my pocket just as it lights up with a text from Axle.
AXLE: Hey, just saw your message. Are you back yet?
I answer immediately.
EMBER: I got in an hour ago. It was a long trip.
AXLE: Are you too tired to go out tonight?
EMBER: I’m good. As long as we do something low key.
AXLE: I just want to see you. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing.
I cup my cheeks, knowing there’d be a flush there’d if my skin wasn’t so brown.
EMBER: Give me twenty minutes.
I toss the phone and rush to my bedroom to change. Aunt B is still in the shower when I knock on the door and inform her that I’m leaving.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!” she yells through the door.
I grin. “That isn’t good advice.”
“Whatever!”
I blow her a kiss even though she can’t see me and trail downstairs. Axle is waiting in the parking lot. He’s leaning against the car, one ankle crossed over the other. My heart stops and then starts beating incredibly fast.
He’s dressed in a knitted sweater and jeans. Completely casual. But I doubt any other man would be able to make that outfit look as high fashion as he does.
My voice wavers when I greet him. “Hi.”
“Hey.” He steps closer to me, stopping just short of touching me but invading my personal space. His grey eyes, bathed in shadows, pierce me. “Is it too weird to say that I missed you?”
A thrill zips through my heart. “Mm… yes, that’s definitely weird.”
“Then strike that last sentence from your memory.”
I laugh.
He steps back. “You look great.”
I scan my blouse and jeans. “Thank you. You… smell great.”
“As opposed to my usual scent of what?”
“Ego?”
“You meant it as an insult, but I’m flattered.”
I chuckle, marveling at the ease between us. In the back of my mind, a warning that he’s only here for a week tries to steal my focus. I push it away with herculean strength and train my gaze on Axle.
We only have a few more days. I might as well make the most of them.
11
Axle
The movie is one I’ve been anticipating for weeks, but I can’t focus on it. Not with a woman as beautiful as Ember sitting next to me. My gaze wanders to her. She’s got her hair pulled back into a bun so my eyes are free to roam every inch of her stunning face.
Her brown cheeks are round, smooth. Thick eyelashes fall like angel’s wings. A choker covers her neck and points to the slight dip of her collar.
I try not to stare at her chest and run my eyes lower, falling on equally perilous territory. Ember’s long legs drew my attention ten years ago. Now that we’ve matured, they’re enough to slay me.
Those jeans aren’t helping. They look painted on. Inviting my gaze as well as my thoughts to head into territory it probably shouldn’t. I had a hard time being a gentleman tonight as she pranced around the theatre’s hall.
My fingers itch to touch her, but I need to keep my cool. I don’t want to come off too strong. Scare her away. It’s crazy enough to feel this much for someone, this quickly.
Although I’ve had a crush on Ember since the day we met, I never really knew her. She was like a celebrity to me, high on a pedestal. Perfect in every way. But distant. Untouchable. Swathed in mystery.
Now that we’re closer, I realize there’s not much of a mystery here. Despite her shyness, Ember is open. Bright. Warm. Goofy. Endearing. Her jokes are hit and miss. She knows nothing about politics or sports. In some ways we’re total opposites, but we share the same values. Have a similar worldview.
Most of all, I enjoy her company. She’s a good person. A kind one. The type that inspires others to be better too. The more time I spend around her, the more I don’t want to be apart.
Which is why I’m struggling not to let the intensity of my feelings show. Two days isn’t enough to pledge undying love to someone. Even if you’ve had an interest in them since high school.
At that moment, Ember glances up and notices I’m not watching the movie. She leans over, her sweet scent whirling around me. I tighten my fingers into fists and glue them to my thighs to keep from pulling her in and kissing her.
Slow down, Axle.
“What’s wrong?” she whispers, bringing her supple lips far too close for comfort. “You aren’t enjoying the movie?”
I shake my head. “It’s fine.”
She still looks puzzled. “Are you sure?”
I nod.
“Okay.” She faces forward again.
I try to follow along with the film’s plot. It’s a really good movie and when I allow myself to focus, I’m sucked into the action.
During the high-speed car chase, I reach over to grab more popcorn. Except I don’t touch popcorn. I touch a hand. Ember’s hand.
We glance at each other. Awareness swirls between us and I sense she’s as affected as I am.
“Sorry,” she mumbles. Her mouth falls victim to her teeth as she chews on her bottom lip and yanks her hand away, upsetting the popcorn
box. I scramble to save it, but I’m too late. Ember spills about a third of it into her lap and on the floor.
I spring into action, reaching out to brush the popcorn off her when I realize I’d be, essentially, brushing her upper thighs. My fingers curl like claws, hovering awkwardly in the air while my brain scrambles to find a way to help.
“I’m fine,” she says tightly, scooting to the edge of her seat and cleaning herself off. “Excuse me a minute.”
I pull my legs in as Ember slides past me and flees down the stairs. Concerned, I abandon my seat and follow her. She disappears into the bathroom. I hang back, waiting for her to finish while I corral my galloping heart.
If just a touch of her hand sets me off like this, I can’t imagine what it would be like to kiss her.
Ember emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later and stops short when she sees me. I approach her. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She blows out a breath. “Should we go back in and watch the rest of the movie?”
“If you want to.”
We head inside, but I get the feeling that neither of us is paying much attention to the film.
When it’s over, I escort Ember to the exits. The dark sky is filled with thick, angry-looking clouds, but the moon is bright. A gentle breeze ruffles my hair.
“Are you ready to go home?” I ask Ember. “Or we can take a walk?”
“I’d like that.”
We stroll down the sidewalk. A few cars blow past us. There aren’t many people out tonight. Crickets serenade the sky, harmonizing with the rush of engines and the roll of tires against pavement.
Ember is quiet for a long stretch and I leave her to her thoughts, content to soak in her presence. I’ve been with women that were so chatty they didn’t even breathe between sentences. Ember strikes me as a person content with silence and I respect that.
“Can I ask you a question?” she says after a while.
I glance at her. “Anything.”
“It’s about that decision you made years ago. The one you regret.”
I slip a hand into my coat pocket. “Go on.”
“Did it… does it have anything to do with a girl?”
I stop on the pavement. “What?”
