Page 56 of Ashes

After we walked into the room, I left them to their grief and filled out the necessary documents they’d need.

Then I firmly put my mask back on and got back to work, ignoring the incessant pressure clawing at my rib cage and the unending sound of the flatline and shuddering cries of grief occupying every inch of my brain.

CHAPTER 14

JAMAL

As soon asI saw her, I knew something was wrong.

“Are you okay?” I asked as she settled into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She fastened her seat belt, avoiding looking at me.

“Did someone hurt you?” I asked, my mind going into a frenzy at the thought.

“No, I’m fine.” Noticing I hadn’t moved, she added, “Let’s just go home.”

Home.I liked that she called my house her home.

“Okay,” I replied quietly, not wanting to push her before she was ready to talk about whatever happened. So I pulled away and beelined home.

We’d been parked in our driveaway for the last ten minutes and she still hadn’t moved. I reached for a loosestrand of her hair that escaped her bun and tucked it behind her ear.

“Sienna,” I murmured.

She hummed quietly, still looking in front of her.

My thumb grazed the soft skin on the side of her face and it jolted her out of her thoughts. “We’re home, baby.”

She blew out a long breath and finally turned her face toward me.

“Let’s get you inside,” I said, moving to take her bag from her hand, but she clutched it tighter.

“One minute, Jamal,” Sienna said ever so softly I’d barely heard her. “I just need one minute,” she whispered, her voice breaking at the end.

Her statement made my heart stutter, the way her voice cracked latching itself into the little nook she’d been digging for herself inside my rib cage.

“Okay,” I finally said, taking my hand back. I shifted in my seat to face up front.

I glanced at her sideways to see her close her eyes, noticing a tear trailing down her cheek. My heart sank, threatening to crumble at the sight.

Despite not knowing her for a long time, I knew my wife never showed her vulnerability to others. Especially me. I wanted to ask her what was wrong and how I could help, but she’d already told me.

“One minute,” I mirrored. Then, without thinking, I reached for her hand and intertwined our fingers together.

I knew touching her was a bad idea because it meant walking through a fire knowing I’d burn myself.

But for a moment, none of that mattered.

Just for a minute.

I’d always made decisions based on rationality, considering every angle and finding ways to mitigate consequences. But right now, the notions of consequences blurred and the instinct to comfort her overtook me.

I wasn’t supposed to give in to thesefeelingsshe was inspiring. And yet, here I was, letting the need to make sure she was okay guide my actions.

Just for a minute.

For one minute, all I wanted to do was sit with her and forget about who I was and who she was and just beus.