Asher (Ashes & Embers 6)

I wish I could take her up on that, or say that all back to her, but I can’t. Not yet.

I’m not proud of my behavior lately.

Hiding.

Lying.

Avoiding.

Deceiving.

Hopefully, they’ll understand I had to do this for myself, and they’ll forgive me.

Minutes after I kneel on the floor to resume painting, my cell phone chimes once again. Sighing, I put my brush down on the edge of the paint tray and pull my phone out of my pocket. My stomach twists when I see I have a FaceTime video chat request from Redwood.

Dammit.

I accept the chat, and his face, surrounded by a cloud of smoke coming from the cigarette hanging from his mouth, fills my phone screen.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls. “Look at you.”

“I thought you weren’t going to call me. You said you wouldn’t.”

“Obviously, I lied.”

“Obviously.”

“I sense a disturbance in the force, Ember. Thought I’d check up on my little Frankenstein.”

“I’m doing fine.”

“You look better than fine, sweetheart.” He raises a dark eyebrow suggestively.

I glare at the screen.

“You doing all the things I taught you?” he asks.

“Yes. Every day.”

“How’s our favorite rock star doing?”

“He’s still on tour.”

“You didn’t tell him, did you?” he questions.

“No. Not yet.”

“Tsk, tsk, Ember. That’s a naughty girl.” He takes a drag on his cigarette. “I like it,” he says on exhale, his voice deep and throaty.

I sigh and wipe the back of my hand across my forehead. “He’ll be home in a few weeks.”

“My offer stands. If you need a place to stay, my door’s open for you.”

“Hopefully that won’t happen, but thank you.”

He pulls the cigarette from his mouth and stares at the glowing tip. “Do you ever wish I had let you die?” he asks. “Sometimes I wish someone had just let me fucking die.”

“On bad days, yes,” I admit. There’s no sense in lying to him. He would see right through it. “But I think things will get better. For both of us.”

“Your hope is amusing.”

I swallow hard. “I should go. I’m painting.”

“Don’t lose my number, Ember. You might want to disappear for good someday…embrace the dark hole in your mind instead of fighting it.”

“No,” I say. “I won’t want to do that.” My life is getting better. Everything I’ve done is to avoid the hole—not fall into it.

He grins cockily. “If you say so.”

My chin lifts toward the phone in my hand. “I do.”

“Tell me one word that describes how you feel now.”

I look into his blue eyes watching me from the small screen. “Free.”

He nods. “Free is good. It comes with a price, though. Who knows what that might be?”

“Thank you for all your help,” I say, ignoring his cryptic commentary.

“I knew you’d need me.” Twisted satisfaction manifests in his crooked grin.

I end the chat and put the phone down as if it’s on fire.

I don’t care if Redwood’s elevator is stuck somewhere between the third and fourth floors—he was there for me when I needed him. He understands things about me no one else can. I can tolerate his random weirdness.

Kneeling down, I pick up my brush once again to finish painting the trim. Tomorrow the new furniture is coming for the living room and master bedroom, and I can’t wait to see it all.

Later, I’m emptying the dressers in the bedroom so the movers can take them to our storage facility. Not wanting my jewelry box to get lost in the shuffle, I take it into my walk-in closet. As I place it on one of the shelves, one of the tiny jewelry drawers slides open. Nestled on the velvet is a locket with Teddy’s photo on it.

Curious, I lift the necklace to examine it and realize it can’t be opened.

It’s been sealed shut.

Turning the necklace over, my heart stops when I see the engraving on the other side of the pendant.

Teddy: April 1, 1988 - Oct. 30, 2000

I shake my head in confusion as my heart jolts and starts to beat rapidly.

This can’t be right.

These dates are a long time ago. That means that—

Gasping, I cover my mouth with my hand and glance at Teddy lying on the bedroom floor with his toy.

The truth slowly pours over my brain and drips down to my heart.

That’s not Teddy.

My Teddy died a long time ago.

This necklace is a memorial charm. Filled with ashes.

Suddenly, a carousel of quick, sporadic images flash through my brain. Teddy as a puppy with a bow on my sixth birthday. Running and playing. Sleeping on my bed. Me and Teddy growing up. Teddy licking baby Kenzi’s face. Me crying over Teddy.

Me clasping this necklace around my neck, sobbing uncontrollably.

All the memories of my life with Teddy, from the beginning to the end, crash into my brain all at once.

My head throbs. My chest aches.

Tears fall down my cheeks as I carefully put the necklace back in the tiny drawer with shaking fingers. Turning toward the door, I slowly approach the beautiful dog Asher brought home months ago. Kneeling down, I gently pet his head, and he immediately wags his tail.