I move my lips across her cheek, pushing her hair out of the way to kiss her neck. “We could still practice while we’re here…”
She giggles as I nip at her neck. “There was a guy hiking earlier. He might see us…”
As much as I want her right here, right now, I don’t want to risk another man seeing her undressed.
Brushing my lips across her ear, I breathe softly. “How ’bout we go home, get in the hot tub, make love under the stars, then eat our weight in ice cream?”
She snakes her arms around my neck and presses her mouth against my temple. “I can’t wait.”
Before we part, I cup her face in my hands, staring straight into her eyes. “I love you twice—now and forever.”
She smiles dreamily at our special quote and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
“I love you twice.”
We jump off the rock together, but I’m not abandoning the idea of coming back here in a few weeks with a little tent to make love in.
“Whoa.” She shakes her head a little. “I feel kinda dizzy.”
“Are you alright?”
“I think so. It must be those kisses of yours.” She smiles and turns to walk back toward the path but falters for a moment, lifting her hand to rub her forehead.
“You okay, baby?” I ask, catching up to her.
She shakes her head, moving her hand to the back of her neck like she’s squeezing a sore muscle. She turns to the right, then the left, her movements erratic, almost robotic, her feet turned at an awkward angle. I start to laugh, thinking she’s acting goofy, until her legs suddenly buckle beneath her, and she stumbles dangerously close to the cliff.
“Em!” I rush forward and grab her arm just as the thin earth of the edge crumbles under her feet, completely giving out beneath her. She lets out a yelp, grasping at the dirt and grass with her free hand as she falls.
I’m brought to my knees by the dead weight of her hanging from my arm.
I gasp. “Holy shit.”
“Asher.” Her voice quivers with terror as she dangles over the river below us.
“I got you,” I say, breathless. “Hold on to my arm.”
Instead, she flails her free arm and legs, trying to find something to grab on to on the slippery mountainside.
“I—I can’t get a grip on anything,” she sobs. “I’m slipping.”
“Grab on to my arm with your other hand. I won’t let you fall.” Not breaking eye contact with her, I run my free hand over the ground around me, trying to find something—anything—to give me leverage, but there’s nothing but dirt and smooth rock.
My heart pounds so violently with fear-fueled adrenaline, my vision blurs. Shaking my head to fight it off, I refocus my eyes on hers and gather my wits. She only weighs about 130 pounds. I work out almost every day. I know I can lift her up if I can get leverage. There’s no way my wife is falling into that river.
“Ash…” Her green eyes stare up at me. Dark and pleading.
“It’s okay.” My voice, the very thing I’m known for, cracks and completely annihilates all attempts at strength and confidence. “I got you. Hang on to my arm. Squeeze it tight, and don’t let go.”
She grasps my arm tighter. Her long, pink fingernails dig into my flesh as I try desperately to pull her up. Instead, I’m inching closer to the edge. Like tiny razors, her nails rake deeper into my skin and slowly drag downward, slipping in the sweat coating my skin. Thin trails of blood begin to ooze in their wake.
“Fuck.”
“Don’t let me go.”
“Never.”
Scooting down on my stomach, I reach frantically with my other hand and try to grab on to any part of her—her hair, her shirt, anything—but I can’t reach.
She flails. The erratic movement makes her hand slip.
Out of my grasp.
“No!” I scream. “No—”
My heart stops.
My breath stops.
My entire world stops as she falls—so fast yet so slow—to the water below. Her desperate, gut-wrenching scream echoes through the mountains surrounding us.
“Ember!” Her name strangles from my raw throat as I scramble to my feet and run like a wild animal down the path, searching frantically for a clearing where I can jump into the water to get to her. I yank my cell phone out of my back pocket to call 9-1-1 for help.
The screen flashes.
No connection.
Fuck. Fuck!
“I’m coming!” I yell to the right, over the side of the mountain. Low, thin branches whip into my face and arms, scratching my flesh and tangling in my hair. I don’t care. I just need to get to her.
I can’t lose her.
“Hold on, baby. I’m coming.” By the time I reach the clearing near the bottom of the mountain, I’m gulping for air. My T-shirt is soaked in sweat. I scan the water. Where are you?