Page 57 of Ashes

A man with a woman who upset the balance of everything he’d believed in.

A husband with his wife in a moment where she needed him to justbethere.

We sat in silence, the seconds trickling by.

The moment felt longer than a minute, but once it was over, she removed her hand from mine and I missed the contact immediately. I should have been thankful that she’d put a halt to my lapse of judgment, but I couldn’t ignore the desire to do it again blazing inside me.

Grabbing her bag, she stepped out of the car and I followed her inside the house.

“I’m going to head to bed,” she simply said andclimbed the stairs. She still hadn’t looked at me since we’d left the car and I didn’t like it.

I didn’t like the thought of her being sad, so I did the only thing I could think of and headed to the kitchen.

About an hour later, I stood at her door. I kept lying to myself that I was here because it was the right thing to do. But I apparently couldn’t stay away.

Especially when I didn’t know if she was still unhappy.

Being here was dangerous, but fuck that if my wife wasn’t okay.

I finally knocked after standing here for the past five minutes, staring at her door, trying to determine whether I should or shouldn’t. She hesitantly cracked her door open and surprise etched her features when she registered it was me on the other side.

She was freshly showered, her wet hair wrapped in a towel. My eyes drank her in.

Beautiful.

I mean, she always was.

She wore an oversized black T-shirt and matching boxers that hugged her body.

Her cheeks flushed when our gazes met and she shifted, hiding herself behind the door. “Yes?”

I took a step toward her, pushing the bowl ofsancochobetween us. “I made you food.”

She stared at me, seeming in disbelief. “You made this for me?

“I thought it might make you feel better,” I saidhesitantly. I figured she might like something comforting, so I thought this recipe might work, but I might have been wrong. I stepped back. “I can go back down and make you something different if you don’t like this. Sorry, I should’ve asked. Let me?—”

She placed a hand on my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “No, Jamal. It’s perfect.” She took the bowl and spoon from my hands. “Thank you.”

I scratched the top of my brow, not knowing what to do next. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Stay,” she blurted out, taking me by surprise.

“You’ve had a long day. I don’t want to?—”

“I want you to.”

She stepped to the side and let me in. Then she walked to her closet and came out pulling a large sweatshirt over her head. It had a similar design on the front to the one she wore the first time I drove her to work but in a different color.

She propped herself on the edge of the bed while I stood a few steps in front of the door, not knowing where to appropriately place myself. The only place to sit was her bed, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

With anyone else, I couldn’t have cared less, but it was different with her. I was quite a confident man, but for some reason, being around her unsettled me to the point I didn’t know what to do with myself.

She patted the space next to her on the bed. “You cansit,” she offered. “If you want,” she quickly added when she sensed my hesitation.

I nodded once in response and walked over to the bed, settling next to her but leaving a generous distance between us to avoid any accidental brushing. I didn’t think I could handle touching her again without crossing a line.

I leaned against the headboard and watched her stir the contents of the bowl.