Page 38 of Ember’s Heart

Ember

K eeping my voice in a normal tone, I said “Colton. You’re safe. I’m safe. We’re at the cabin.”

The low moans and pained gasps coming from Colton was tearing me apart. I wished I could do more to help him. My heart was pounding hard against my ribs, but Alejandro’s calm voice echoed in my mind. “Stay calm. A calm presence is what he’ll need.”

He thrashed and mumbled, his body slick with a cold sweat that had soaked the sheets. I wanted to touch him, but I knew I couldn’t. All I could do was keep talking to him.

“Colton,” I whispered, my voice trembling but firm. “Colton, it’s Ember. It’s okay. You’re at the cabin. You’re safe.”

His thrashing intensified, a desperate sound tearing from his throat. “No… no, I can’t… get out. Get out!” he choked out, his voice hoarse with panic. My heart was breaking for him, but I forced myself to take deep breaths. I needed to stay calm for him.

I continued to talk to him. “You’re okay. We’re in the cabin by the lake. We’re safe. You’re safe. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” I just kept repeating the words.

Slowly, his frantic gasps changed to ragged breaths. His body was still tense, but began to relax. I gave him his space and just waited until he stopped thrashing completely.

When I knew it was over, I reached out again, this time placing my hand gently on his back, my palm flat against his skin. He flinched, a small, involuntary movement, but didn’t pull away. He just laid there, his chest heaving, his face turned away from me.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, my fingers gently tracing the lines of his scarred back. “I’m here.”

He slowly turned, his eyes meeting mine in the dim light.

I could see the shame, the fear, and the exhaustion swimming in their depths.

The man who had been so strong, so in control, just hours before was now just a frightened boy.

I didn’t say anything. I just pulled him into my arms, holding him tight.

He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my neck.

I could feel his body shaking with the lingering adrenaline as I held him, my fingers stroking his hair, whispering, “It’s okay,” over and over again, until his breathing finally evened out.

The tension in his body eased. I gently pulled back, my hands cupping his face. I wiped the sweat from his forehead with my thumb.

“You’re okay,” I whispered again, pressing kisses to his forehead.

He nodded, his eyes closing. “I’m sorry,” he rasped, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry, Ember.”

“Shhh,” I said, shushing him with a finger to his lips. “Don’t. Don’t you dare apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.” I kissed him gently, a kiss that was filled with all the love and admiration I felt for him. “It’s okay, Colton. I love you.”

He let out a shaky laugh that wasn’t quite a laugh. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“Shh, stop. I don’t have to. I want to. I choose to deal with this,” I told him. “With you. That’s what love is, Colton.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw. “I love you too, Firefly” he whispered.

I didn’t want to break this moment, but I needed to get the soaked sheets off and put dry, warm ones on. “Come on,” I said. “Go get a shower. I’ll strip the bed and get us some clean sheets.”

He hesitated. “I’ll help.”

I pushed a strand of hair from his forehead, my thumb stroking his brow. “No, you won’t. Just go get a shower. I got this.”

He nodded, a look of gratitude in his eyes.

He got up and disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of the shower turning on.

As I stripped the bed, I threw the soaked wet sheets into the laundry hamper, my mind replaying what had happened.

The desperation in his voice… it was all so real, so gut-wrenching.

I quickly remade the bed, smoothing out the new sheets. When he emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, he looked a little more at peace. He was wrapped in a towel, his hair still damp from the shower.

I took his hand, my fingers lacing with his. “Come on,” I said, pulling him back to bed.

We laid there, him on his back, one arm behind his head, the other around me as I snuggled in close. I laid my head on his chest, as my fingers traced the outline of the scar on his side. It was a long, jagged line that ran from his ribs to his hip.

“Does it hurt?” I whispered, my lips brushing against his skin.

He tensed slightly before relaxing. “The scars? Not really. The nerve endings were damaged so I don’t feel much there. But yeah, sometimes, when I overdo it, or strain my muscles, I feel it. It’s like a dull, constant ache. A reminder.”

I didn’t say anything, just continued tracing the line of the scar. He was quiet for a moment before he said, “The ones on my back are worse. The doctor said it was a miracle I wasn’t killed from the blast.”

I recalled the scars on his back. They were pink, thick, raised uneven lines. A sob caught in my throat recalling what he told me about that day. I couldn’t bear to remember it. Just the thought I could’ve lost him was too much.

“And after...” I whispered, needing to change the subject. “After you were… discharged. Where did you go? What did you do?”

He was quiet for so long I thought he wasn’t going to answer.

“I just traveled,” he said finally. “I just moved around. Never stayed in one place too long. Maybe a couple of months at the most. I spent some time in California. Tried to surf.”

My head shot up, a surprised laugh escaping my lips. “Surfing? You can surf?”

He smiled. “Tried. I tried to surf. I also slept on the beach a couple times. Don’t recommend that. Sand and crabs get everywhere.”

I laughed, a genuine laugh that eased the tension in the room from moments ago.

He laughed too. “ Yeah I tried to surf, Firefly. The Pacific Ocean and I made a mutual agreement, I was not cut out for the surfer life.” He paused, a playful glint in his eye. “I think I spent more time getting pummeled by waves than I did actually on the board.”

“Good,” I said, smiling. “I might like you as a surfer boy, but I love my country boy.” I rested my head back down, giving his scar another kiss, and then laying my head back on his chest, my fingers tracing circles across his chest.

The comfortable silence that followed was different from the tense one moments ago. I waited, and then, after another long moment, I asked, “You never stayed anywhere long. Why?”

He sighed, the sound a mix of exhaustion and affection. “Because you weren’t there,” he said simply. “No place felt like home without you.”

He had been thinking about me, even when he couldn’t bring himself to come back. I was still his home.

We didn’t say anything else. There was nothing else to say. We just laid there, wrapped in each other’s arms, until we both drifted back to sleep.

When I woke again, the sun was peeking through the loft’s windows, and Colton was gone. I went downstairs looking for him and found him coming in from outside, his phone in his hand, his brow furrowed with concern.

“What were you doing?” I asked, my voice still thick with sleep.

He looked up, a soft smile touching his lips when he saw me. “Just tried calling Cade again. Still nothing.” He shook his head, pocketing his phone. There was a look of frustration on his face. “I just don’t get it. He’s always been so good about calling me back.”

“I’m sure he’ll call when he can. He hasn’t been phoning our parents as much lately. So it’s not you.” I walked into his arms, wrapping my arms around his waist. He held me tight, burying his face in my hair. “Thank you,” he murmured. “For last night. For being there for me.”

I just tightened my hold. “Anytime. I love you.”

He kissed my head and then pulled me into the kitchen, where he had a delicious breakfast waiting. There was scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast waiting for us on the table. It was simple, but delicious.

As we sat there, just talking and eating, the warmth of the room and the sight of him across the table from me was a perfect picture of a life I was finally getting to live. And I couldn’t wait for this to be our forever.

After we ate and packed up our bags, getting ready to say goodbye to this small piece of paradise we found.

He was loading our things into the back of the truck when I walked up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“I’m going to miss this place,” I whispered into his back.

He turned, keeping his arms around me. “We’ll come back,” he said softly. “Anytime. We’ll make it our spot.”

I smiled, my heart full. “It was perfect,” I whispered looking into his eyes. “Everything was perfect.”

He leaned down and kissed me, a soft, lingering kiss that was a promise of a future I was finally ready to believe in.

As we got into the truck and pulled away from the cabin, I watched it disappear in the side mirror.

It was more than just a cabin by a lake.

It was where our new beginning started. It was our first real step forward.

It was proof that even after years of being apart, after broken hearts and promises, some promises could still be kept.

I had waited what felt like a lifetime for him to come back to me, and finally, my life with him was just beginning. It was the first time I felt like everything was going to be okay.