Like she wasn’t expecting us to be here.
I watch her over the rim of my coffee mug as I slowly sip my latte. She pulls her lemon poppy seed muffin apart and tentatively places a bite-sized piece in her mouth. Chewing slowly, she wiggles the fingers of her left hand, watching her diamond ring sparkle under the sun.
I want to believe she’s just daydreaming about our upcoming wedding, but her odd behavior has an uneasy feeling creeping down my spine and settling in my gut.
“Babe?” I clear my throat with a rough cough. “Do you feel alright?”
Her face perks up. Finally, a smile. “I’m okay,” she says. “I didn’t sleep very well last night. I think I have brain fog.”
I recall waking up around three a.m. and finding her sitting up next to me reading the journals. She does that a lot, though, so it didn’t stand out as odd to me.
“I can call Storm and tell him I’ll come over tomorrow instead. We’re just moving some furniture. He won’t mind.”
“No, you should go. I’m fine, honey. Just tired and a little headachey.” She stands and starts to clean up the small table. “I’ll take a hot shower. That always wakes me up.”
We carry the dishes down to the kitchen, and after loading them in the dishwasher, I pull her into my arms.
“I won’t be gone long.” I smooth her hair away from her face.
She looks up at me, smiling. Her eyes are animated, bright, engaging with mine. “Maybe you can pick up some s’mores ice cream, and we’ll have an ice cream and movie-in-bed date tonight after Kenzi goes to sleep?”
I force the smile to remain on my face, even though my heart rate has suddenly ramped up, and the hairs on my arms have prickled.
“I could go for that. I’ll stop at the store and get that and some whipped cream.” I swallow and tilt my head. “Kenzi won’t be here, though.” I purposely don’t say anything else so I can gauge her reaction.
Her forehead creases. “Oh. That’s right.” She laughs and glances toward the foyer. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I feel like a space cadet today.”
“Maybe I should stay home.”
Half her mouth quirks up. “No. Don’t be silly.” She stands up on her tiptoes to kiss me and winds her arms around my neck. “You go, and I’ll see you when you get home.”
Reluctantly, I gather up my keys and my cell phone, and she walks me to the garage door, where I kiss her goodbye before I walk out. When I get in my car, she’s still in the doorway watching me. Her hand is raised to her throat, and I realize she’s touching the skeleton key necklace.
I wave at her from inside my car, and she waves back, then disappears inside the house. I sit in the car for a few minutes debating whether I should go help my brother move his furniture or stay home and make sure Ember’s really okay. I haven’t seen her act so distracted, confused, and disoriented in almost a year.
My hovering days are behind me, though, and I should leave them there. Things have been great between us, and we’ve never been happier. She’s been writing her book and painting, and I’ve been writing new songs. We spend tons of time with our friends and family. We’ve reached a level of closeness and intimacy that has surpassed what we had before the accident, and that’s saying a lot.
The only things that could possibly make my life remotely better is having another baby and Ember remembering her past—and remembering me.
I think I’ll always hold on to hope that those things will happen someday.
Chapter Fifty-Six
What the heck is wrong with me?
Right after Asher drives off, I go straight upstairs to the master bathroom and take two ibuprofen for the stabbing ache in my temple and a Xanax to calm me down. My body feels like it’s vibrating, as if thousands of tiny bees are buzzing through my veins.
I rub my hands over my arms, but it does nothing to alleviate the stinging sensation.
As I stand in the middle of the bathroom, my head pounds and spins. My heart beats erratically, skipping and thumping. I can’t catch my breath. My skin is warm and flushed. It’s like I just spent an hour working out—only I haven’t.
I’m literally doing nothing except thinking.
What is happening?
Last night I had the dream again. Yes, that one. The one where someone is trying to rip my face off. This time, the person in the dream was showing me things.
Good things and bad things.
Pictures of Ash and I together.
Toys.
Jewelry.
A box.
Flowers.
A keychain.
A guitar pick.
Kenzi.
A waterfall.
Tor.
A big rock.
Teddy.
A cliff.
Butterflies.
The skeleton key.
Shaking, I sit on the edge of the bathtub and rest my head in my hands. The spinning won’t quit. Teddy has followed me and lays at my feet on the bathmat with his chin on top of my bare foot. His big brown eyes peer up at me.