Page 42 of Embers of You (Amity #1)

Jameson

The last week has gone by in a blur. I hardly remember anything that’s happened after the night of the accident. My days consist of making sure everything is done around the ranch, helping Ma, and getting all the funeral arrangements done.

Sutton has stuck around to help with everything. She’s hardly left my side and I’m beginning to feel like I don’t deserve her. She tried to push me away, to fight what was going on between us, and now when she should be fighting it, she isn’t. And I don’t deserve it.

I can feel how distant I am. I’m a shell of the man I’ve always been. The loss has hit me harder than anything else I’ve experienced before and all I know how to do is busy myself to the point of exhaustion so I don’t have to think about it.

I can’t think about what it was like pulling up to the accident. Seeing my dad and the ambulance ride.

I just can’t.

I tried to go back to work, but was promptly yelled at by the chief that I needed to take time off.

I wanted to distract myself and get back to my normal routine, even though leaving Ma wasn’t ideal.

I ended up coming back home only an hour later to her still on the couch, staring at the TV with the sound off.

Sutton was there with her, and didn’t seem surprised when I came back. She just gave me a hug that I returned, before mumbling that I had work to do. And I left.

Every night we crawl into bed together, I kiss her goodnight, and we fall asleep in each other’s arms. Neither of us say much, because there’s still not much for us to say.

The next day we get up and do it all over again.

The funeral is today, I get up extra early while Sutton is still peacefully sleeping so I can get all the morning chores done before the busy day that lies ahead.

Of course that isn’t the type of busy I want to be right now.

Today will be the kind that’s going to leave me emotionally exhausted instead of physically.

I’d rather my body be so exhausted that I have no choice but to fall asleep instead of leaving my mind to race through the darkness that creeps in.

“Are you almost ready?” Sutton asks, peeking her head into the room we’ve been sharing.

I adjust the tie I’m not used to wearing. The button down shirt and slacks feel oddly suffocating and it all just feels wrong. I don’t think I ever saw my dad wearing an outfit like this and it seems odd to wear this to honor him when he would just show up in jeans and a flannel.

But Ma insisted we all look nice to go to the funeral home where his service is being held, so I do it for her. Sutton is wearing a black short sleeve dress and low heels. She looks pretty, and I want to tell her that, but for some reason the words get caught in my throat.

I want to tell her everything that I’ve been feeling. But instead of complimenting her, or telling her how much she means to me or even how much my life shifted in a single night, I just answer her question. “Yeah.”

She nods before walking in, shutting the door behind her, and coming up to me, gently wrapping her arms around my waist. I haven’t denied her touch, and I never would. But it feels different now and I know she feels it just like I do.

“She’s hanging in there pretty well so far.” She looks up at me. “What about you?”

I clench my jaw, swallow roughly and look down to her. “I’m hoping to just get through today.”

“You will. I’m here for anything you need.”

Too good for me.

I lean down to press my lips against hers softly. She sighs at the contact and I hold her a little closer, wanting her to know how much I appreciate everything she’s been doing for Ma and me. I may not be able to voice much now, but I want her to know in some way.

We break apart and I tell her, “We should get going.”

I drive us to the funeral home. Ma and Sutton are in the back seat just like the night we left the hospital.

The car is just as silent as that night, too.

Once we get there, I lead Ma inside. She’s been weaker since that night, and sleeping more, but I can’t tell if it’s from the sickness or from her broken heart.

I guess they could go hand in hand. I can’t lose her too.

At the root of all of this, that’s the fear I can’t voice. I can hardly even consider the possibility that I’m going to lose both my parents in such a short amount of time. I want her to keep fighting. I want her to use this as her fuel to fight.

But I worry that this will make her give up. She can’t give up.

We get inside the funeral home, and the service goes by in a blur. I sit between Ma and Sutton during the speeches, Ma choosing not to speak. I opt out as well. There’s nothing to say that I want these people to know. Anything I want my dad to have known I could have told him. Should have told him.

But I didn’t.

We fought instead. The last interaction we had was a fight, a fact that remains unresolved.

The tears are back, and I don’t wipe them away as I think about the last time I spoke to him.

If I could go back and change everything, I would.

I wish he was proud of me, and that he understood why I did what I did. I wish we cleared the air before…

“We can stay as long as you need,” Sutton’s voice breaks through my thoughts and I realize the service is over.

“We can go,” I grunt, standing up.

Ma is up by the urn that holds the remains of her husband. Her back is to us, but I can see her shoulders shaking with a sob. I step up to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and she turns into me, crying even harder.

Sutton stands by, ever vigilant, and I just look at her. The woman I’ve fallen so deep in love with and I’m mad at myself that I’m not giving her everything she deserves.

Some people say if you love someone you should let them go, and I always thought they were full of it because you should fight for your love.

But at what point is that unfair? When is it better to set them free? At what point am I being unfair to Sutton, and should let her go?

As I stand here, looking at her, watching as her bright green eyes shine with tears as she stands with me and the only family I have left. I know there’s no way I could be strong enough to let her go myself. But if she wants to leave, I’ll have no choice. I’m not going to hold her back.

We leave with Ma hugging Dad’s urn tightly, and as we get to the car, she stops Sutton from getting in the backseat with her.

“Sit up front with Jameson, honey.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she says, her voice breaking.

I open the passenger side for Sutton and help her climb inside before we all endure another silent car ride back home. I reach over, placing my hand on Sutton’s leg just like I always have when she rides in my car. Immediately, her hand falls to mine, and she holds it tightly.

We say nothing, but the small connection between our hands almost feels like enough.

Almost.

After we get back home, Ma retreats to her room like she’s started doing, denying my help. Sutton turns toward me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m as okay as I can be at this moment.”

She nods in understanding. There’s not much more to say, and suddenly the house feels claustrophobic.

It’s like I can feel my dad around, sucking the air from the space and making it hard to breathe.

Even though he’s not here, the weight of his disappointment lingers and I don’t want Sutton to see how much it’s dragging me down.

“I’m going to go get some work done,” I tell her.

She nods, wrapping her arms around herself.

I want to pull her into me. To kiss her senseless and lose myself in her for as long as she’ll let me.

I want to tell her everything I’m thinking and feeling, all my thoughts and fears, and to pour them out to her.

I want to bring her into my orbit, but it’s not fair to her. I refuse to drag her down with me.

I change before going outside, leaving her in the house while I busy myself with anything and everything I can that needs to be done.

After making sure all the animals have food, cleaning the stalls, and doing some needed maintenance around the property, I’m in the barn.

The heat is brutal today, and I take my shirt off to wipe my face and toss it to the side.

I’m flinging hay bales around to get them organized and make feeding easier when I hear quiet footsteps approach.

Sutton appears in the entryway of the barn, and I go to meet her. The second I see her face streaked with the remnants of her tears, I break, cupping her face, and bringing her to me. “Baby, what is it? What happened?”

“It’s stupid, I just came here to check on you.”

“It’s not stupid. Nothing you could say to me would be stupid.”

“I—I’m?—”

I rub my thumbs against her cheek, wiping away the tears that appear there.

“I’m worried you don’t want me around. That I’m doing more harm than good.”

“No. Why would you think that?”

“I just don’t want to be in your way. I know this is a lot for you both, and the last thing I want to do is make it worse.”

“You’re not making it worse. I’m just…I don’t know what to do.” I shake my head, dropping my forehead to hers.

“About what? You aren’t expected to know what to do.”

“It feels like I am. I should be able to handle this and be strong for myself and Ma, but I’m failing at it for her and for you.”

“Hey.” Sutton places her hands on my cheeks forcing me to look at her. “You’re not failing me in any way.”

Yes, I am. I’m keeping you here where you feel like you have to be when you shouldn’t. I’m selfishly not wanting to let you go.

I can’t say any of that. My mouth refuses to form the words, instead it seals over hers, and all the light kisses we’ve shared are nothing compared to this.

This is forceful, demanding, and needy. As soon as my tongue pushes into her mouth she moans, opening up for me.

I flick my tongue against hers, then bite her lip and pull it into my mouth.

“I’ve been failing you, and I’m going to make it up to you right now.”

I need to distract myself, pull away from the darkness surrounding my every thoughts.

I need to get lost in her, to show her how much she means to me when I can’t say the words.

I need to feel like I deserve her in some way.

To show her that she’s helping me more than she can ever know just by being with me.

I need to give us both something that will make everything okay if it’s only for a little.