EMBER
CHAPTER NINE
Harley left about twenty minutes ago, and I hate how empty the house feels.
It never used to feel empty before, but now that Harley’s presence has touched my home, the weight of the emptiness is as loud as ever.
I head into the kitchen, carrying the pizza box from earlier.
I set it on the counter before drifting into my own world while I clean up.
Starting my day with a clean kitchen feels essential for a good day.
I’m setting the last pan in the dish drainer when I get a notification on my phone. Drying my hands, I walk over to my phone.
Motion at door.
My body freezes, as I pull up the live feed, just in time to see the back of a balding head retreating from my driveway.
Scrolling back, I see Dean was definitely headed much closer, but the motion light must have turned on and he realized I’d installed a camera.
The smug smile on his face sent chills down my spine.
Shivering where I stand, I wait to see what he does, staring into the phone with a grip so tight my fingers ache.
I made sure everything was locked up as soon as Harley left, but the unease is still prominent in my stomach.
I don’t understand what he wants from me.
All we ever did was fight. He sits there for another ten or so minutes before his headlights flip on and he pulls out from in front of my house.
Another car passes soon after, and I let out a breath.
I turn down the house and grab my bottle of wine, toting it with me to my bedroom. I already showered today, but I could go for a long soak.
Running my bathwater as hot as I can stand it, I strip down and slip into the tub.
My wine bottle sits on the edge. I scroll through my phone and click on Facebook.
Hitting the notifications tab, I see that I have a new friend request. I take a swig of wine, and click into Harley’s request with a smile plastered on my face.
I click “accept” and then click on his profile.
Scrolling down, I see that he’s active and updates his page often.
Manly posts—short, sweet, and to the point.
Scrolling back to the top and clicking on the photos section, a handful of photos pop up.
There are some of coffee beans and an espresso machine.
A few with the three guys he’d been with at the birthday get together.
And then, just when I thought the coast was clear, a cluster of photos with Harley and a girl with dark hair, hazel eyes, and a button nose.
There are some of them at the water, some in a park…
so many different places. In all of the photos he is smiling, but it’s not the same smile I've seen him share with me over the past few days. I lay my phone down on the side of the tub and dunk my head under water to silence everything around me. It’s been seventeen years, give or take, since we were teenagers in love.
Obviously, he’s been with other women. He’d ventured into my thoughts every now and again, but I have been in a mix of survival mode and not giving a fuck, so I hadn’t let any of those thoughts dominate my mind.
Rising up out of the water, and running my hands over my face to get the water out of my eyes, I let the overlook creep into my brain.
Harley was fucking amazing—he knew how to cause the perfect amount of pain to make it pleasurable.
I’ve never been with anyone who has done that before.
I also have never been choked, and that is something I absolutely want to get on board with.
He was dominating, and it felt good to let go and have someone else make the decisions, but also know that I was safe.
I smile to myself, putting soap in my hair and leaning back to rinse it out, knowing full well I'm about to drain the tub and finish up with a shower.
Finally finishing up, I exit the bathroom and climb into bed.
I plug my phone in and make sure my alarm is set for the morning.
The bookshop is under twenty minutes away from my house, and while I usually don't go for a full face of makeup, I might put in a little extra effort in the morning—just in case anyone stops in. Harley did seem pretty interested in where I’d be tomorrow.
I pull up the camera feed one last time, just to put my mind at ease.
Clicking into the app, I see two tabs, both under the same name.
I didn’t notice it earlier, but I hadn’t messed with it too much.
The weight of the day finally hits me, and with nothing raising suspicion on the camera now, I drift off to sleep.
I’m on bedrest because I went into premature labor. I was at work when one of my coworkers noticed me standing off to the side. I was out of breath and just taking a minute to breathe.
“You good?” she asks, coming closer.
“Yeah I’m good, just out of breath. Tired. You know, pregnant life,” I tell her, straightening to head back to the front to take orders.
She places a hand on my stomach. “Ember, I think that’s a contraction?”
My heart drops, I’m only seven months, I can’t be in labor now. He’s not ready yet. I start breathing heavily, feeling a little lightheaded.
“Hey, let’s call Dean, okay? Maybe you should head up to the hospital, just to be safe rather than sorry.”
She’s right. So I head to the back, grabbing my phone. I call Dean, but the other end just rings and rings. The recorded voicemail comes up, and hitting End, I call again. Voicemail.
What the fuck?
I could call my mom, but I know she’s at work, and we need the money for bills. I call my best friend Levi. He was one of the only people to stick by my side when I started showing and my friends started dropping like flies.
Levi picks up on the second ring. “Hey, I thought you had work tonight?” he says. As soon as I hear his voice, I let out a sob. “Ember, what’s wrong?” I explain what’s going on, and I hear a car door close on the other end of the phone. “I'm on my way.”
I grab my stuff—thankfully, my coworker let the manager know what was going on—and I head out the door. Levi doesn’t live too far, and I could use the fresh air. I’ve been standing outside for a few minutes when I see his truck pull in. I walk over, pull the door open, and climb inside.
He gives me a genuine smile and pats my leg. “It’ll be alright, Em.”
We make it to the hospital, and I'm finally settled after being checked in. Levi stands with his back to me while I get dressed down so the doctor can check for any cervical change. I climb under the itchy hospital sheet and wait.
The doctor comes in, reading through my chart. “You didn’t feel any of these contractions?” he asks me.
“I was at work and just felt out of breath,” I relay to him. “One of my coworkers found me while I was catching my breath, and she felt the contraction.”
“If you’re on your feet a lot, and not drinking enough water, these could be legitimate contractions,” he tells me as he grabs two gloves from the small counter on the wall.
“Let’s check your cervix and see if the contractions are actual labor, or if they’re Braxton hicks.” He applies the clear jelly onto his gloved fingers. “It’s a bit cold.” He taps my leg, indicating that he’s going to check my cervix now.
“A little bit of pressure,” he says as he performs the exam.
Levi holds my hand, his eyes on my own, squeezing so that I know he’s here.
“I’m just going to get a swab to check for any amniotic fluid, and I’ll be back. Hold tight.”
I lay there with Levi standing by my side. We stay quiet as we sit and wait. I hear a commotion out front and recognize the unmistakable voice. Seconds later, the curtain is ripped open.
Dean’s eyes are bloodshot and fuming as he looks from me to Levi. “What the fuck is he doing here, Ember?” He’s getting loud, and he’s advancing on Levi.
“STOP,” I whisper-shout at him. I am livid. “He was helping me since you couldn’t answer your phone!” How fucking dare he start something when he couldn’t even be bothered to answer when I called.
“You’re no longer needed here.” He looks at Levi with hate in his eyes. Levi is much smaller than Dean, so I don’t blame him for wanting to leave.
Levi looks at me apologetically. “Please, let me know how everything is?”
He leans down to hug me, and before he can get any closer, Dean’s voice booms, “I fucking dare you, bitch.” He glares at Levi until he’s no longer in sight.
Dean is in my face in a split second. “Are you fucking kidding me? The first chance you get, you're calling that little fuck boy?” His hot breath hits my nose, and I swear I smell the faint smell of beer.
Has he been drinking, and that’s why he didn’t answer when I called?
“I called TWICE and was sent to voicemail both times, Dean. You couldn’t be fucking bothered to answer my call, and I was contracting and needed to get to the hospital to make sure the baby was okay.” I’m not crying, but my voice is struggling to match my anger.
“He just wants to fuck you, Ember. He knows you’ve at least put out once, and wants to get his dick wet.” He sneers down at me.
Before I can say anything, the doctor comes in.
He eyes Dean, and looks to me, clearly not wanting any part of the heated argument.
“Well, you are contracting regularly, but I don’t see any cervical change.
Labs show no signs of amniotic fluid. We’re going to give you one shot—a steroid to help develop his lungs.
We will need to administer another, so you’ll have to come back tomorrow for the second dose.
And I'm ordering you to be on bedrest for the next two weeks.” He looks from me to Dean.
“You can get her back, right? It’s important that she has these, for the sake of the baby’s health. ”
Dean nods his head, and the doctor heads out to retrieve the shot. I hate shots, but it’s for my little boy. After I get the shot, we’re discharged. I silently put my regular clothes back on. As I’m pulling my leggings up over my butt, I feel Dean’s eyes on me.