Chapter 16
“Areyou sure you want to do this?” Josh asked as Ellie stepped outside and locked the front door behind them. Going for a Sunday afternoon drive was her idea, but she’d been looking a little pale since she suggested it, and the idea of watching her suffer made him feel… something. Something he didn’t like.
“Yes. I want to take you out for a while. I want to show you some of the places I love.” She flashed him a small, determined grin. “Maybe you’ll even recognize them.”
He forced himself not to take a step back. Hell. That was even worse. “Don’t do this for me, Ellie. Please.”
She tilted her head to the side watching him. “Don’t you want to go?”
What was the right answer? Leaving the cottage meant accepting that there was a life outside their bubble. It was a reminder that all bubbles popped, eventually. But even more than that, the idea of Ellie making herself do something she was afraid of for him made him uneasy. It was too thoughtful, too compassionate. They were supposed to be having fun and living in the moment. This was something else.
And yet… how could he say no? She had taken this massive step on her own already; she had faced this demon without him. How could he not support her now?
And deep inside him, somewhere buried, he’d dreamed of someone to care for him like this. Someone who he could stand beside and trust that they would face the monsters hiding in the darkness together.
He swallowed his concerns and reached out to tuck a lock of wind-blown blonde hair behind her ear, letting that small contact fill him with warmth. “I’d like to go wherever you’d like to take me.”
“Okay. Good.” Ellie glanced back at the house—Nissy was washing her paw daintily in the window—and then gave him one last quick smile before climbing into the car.
Opening the passenger door was harder than he expected. He’d become used to holding Ellie. Interacting with her. And when he was touching her, everything else was easier. But the door was heavy, metallic, and cold. His fingers slid through the surface as if it had been formed from freezing mist, and he had to concentrate to get a good grip. It was a relief to finally climb inside and settle onto the soft leather seat—even if her mini was small enough that he had to fold his legs up to fit.
Ellie was quiet as she drove them out to the open road. She checked and re-checked her mirrors and her speed, her hands clenched tight around the wheel. It clearly cost her, this idea, but she didn’t suggest they go back. And mile by mile, she seemed to find her rhythm.
Josh leaned back in his seat, watching her as she settled into the drive and slowly began to relax. Her breathing deepened, color came back into her cheeks, and he couldn’t help remembering the way her skin had flushed and warmed under his hands the night before. The way she’d stood, naked and proud and magnificent. He cleared his throat, trying not to shift in his seat. “So, tell me more about your orc.”
She huffed out a strained laugh. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything… everything. Where did you get the idea?”
“I was playing Balrog’s Bridge and there were Uruk-hai”—she glanced sideways at him, eyes twinkling—“and I started thinking about all the awesome orc romances I’ve read….”
The more Ellie spoke, the more comfortable she seemed, and the more the world around them seemed to lighten. She told him about her favorite novels and promised to lend him some books that would make him see the world of orcs in a whole new way. And then she began to explain and build on her ideas for a new game, and as she did, as her passion and excitement filled the air, she seemed to grow even brighter. As if he could almost reach out and touch that spark of joy that she shared so generously. The warmth that he would take back with him, wherever he went.
The thought pierced through him: one day, maybe soon, he would be gone. He rubbed his chest, trying to ease the ache, and Ellie glanced over at him with a raised brow.
He didn’t want to break into their moment, so he simply gestured to the small space and his bent legs.
She chuckled, and for the first time her grin seemed genuine. And after that, they settled into a companionable conversation about books they’d loved and occasional easy silences. The radio was set to indie rock and the air filtering in through the open windows was warm and pleasant.
Ellie drove them down to the beach and they parked for a while, soaking up the sea air and the sounds of families. It seemed like the kind of place he would have loved to visit, but it didn’t spark any memories for him.
They turned inland and drove through the nearby town with its narrow streets, towering medieval cathedral and Georgian architecture. It was charming, but he still didn’t see anything that he recognized. In a way, it was a relief. They still had their bubble; they’d just taken it with them.
After a while, Ellie drove them out of the town center and back onto the ring road. But instead of turning south toward her home, she turned north. “I thought we could loop around closer to London,” she explained. “It’s busier. There are more villages. Maybe something will come back to you.”
The traffic got heavier. Ellie’s attention focused more closely on the road, and their relaxed drive slowly grew more tense.
And then something worse happened. He started to get cold. The kind of bone-deep, soul-deep cold that he couldn’t shake. Closing the windows and turning up the heating didn’t help. Ellie’s glances full of quiet concern didn’t help. He could feel the darkness, pulling at him.
“Ellie.” His voice scraped at his aching throat, and he swallowed heavily. It was as if he could feel something lodged there. His hands tingled with pins and needles, and he flexed his fingers trying to get feeling back before tugging at his shirt, desperate to make space to breathe. But his fingers slipped through the fabric as if it didn’t exist. God.
Pain began to filter through the cold. Pressure through his temples became a sharp, stabbing ache. The radio was too loud, but when he tried to turn it down, his fingers slid through the dial.
He hunched over, closing his eyes against the undulating shimmer of the world and the pain stabbing through his skull, wishing he could block out the acrid scent that filled his nostrils: something harsh and pungent, like bleach or chemical cleaners.
Ellie’s words came from far away. “Josh? What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. He couldn’t answer. And he knew that if he lost concentration he was going to fade completely.
“I’m turning around.” Ellie’s voice was comforting and safe, precious to him, and he clung to it, as he had so many times before.
He nodded carefully, keeping his eyes closed. And then her hand settled on his thigh. Warm and gentle and holding him like an anchor. She spoke to him, telling him about how close they were to her home, and how pleased Nissy would be to see them both.
And slowly, slowly, he came back to himself.
“I’m—” He cleared his throat roughly. “I’m feeling a bit better.”
“What happened?” Ellie’s voice was full of worry.
“I don’t know. I think we got too far away.”
“From what?”
He couldn’t be sure. Too far from Ellie’s home perhaps—the only place he ever woke. Too far from where she felt herself safe and grounded? Or from his own body, wherever that was. “I’m not sure. Maybe from myself.”
“Okay.” Her fingers gripped his thigh a little tighter. “I’ve got you.”
With every mile they drove, the darkness receded, and the harsh smells eased. His body began to feel more solid, and the pain eased until it was only a vague echo in his head. And through it all, Ellie didn’t falter. She did have him.
She faced the darkness at his side.