EMBER #2
Once in the car, heading home, I glance over and ask, “Where were you?” He doesn’t answer, so I push a little more.
“I have a right to know what is more important than answering your pregnant girlfriend!” I yell from the passenger seat.
He lets out a “hmph,” clearly not planning to elaborate further.
My mom isn't off of work yet, but it’s late, so everyone is in bed and all the lights are off. Dean follows me to my room and locks the door. My stomach drops, and I feel like I’m going to vomit. There’s only one reason he ever locks the door.
I tense as I feel him advance on me. “Dean, it's not a good idea. The paperwork says no intercourse, it can send me into labor.”
He leans down, his lips on mine, and he laughs into my mouth.
“That would be crazy if you did. I’d have to tell our son one day that I sent you into labor fucking you.
” I wince, unable to grasp why he’d ever want to share that information with his kid.
“Just fucking do it, Ember. All you have to do is lay there. I’ll be fast.” He pushes me onto the bed and unbuttons his pants. And with that, he’s won.
Ten minutes later, I head to the bathroom to clean up.
He’s already taken up his spot on the couch when my mom comes through the door.
“Hey hon, I’m so sorry I couldn’t come to the hospital, everything okay?” she asks as she pulls me into a hug. She’s doing her best, so I smile and pass on the majority of the information.
She sighs, knowing it's going to be a long two weeks of bed rest. She gives me a tight squeeze before she heads to her room to go to bed.
I go into the bathroom, finally getting to clean up, and I notice blood in my panties.
It’s not a lot, but it's enough to break the dam and finally let my tears fall after the events that unfolded tonight. It shouldn’t be like this.
“No” should have been enough, doctors orders should have been enough.
But it never is, not with Dean. I pull myself together before heading back to my room and locking my door, in hopes it keeps him out all night.
I wake up in a cold sweat to the sound of my alarm. My heart is racing, and I grab for anything to keep me grounded. After a few minutes, my heart starts to slow.
I had planned a full face of makeup, but now I'm looking at leaving the house late.
I have just enough time to throw my hair into a messy bun on top of my head.
Sweeping my eyelashes with clear mascara, and swiping on a layer of chapstick, I head into my room to get dressed.
I settle on my dark skinny jeans, chelsea rain boots with the moonstone crystal charms on the back, and a hoodie.
I head downstairs, put my to-go cup under the Keurig, and click the largest setting. I wait for it to brew, adding a splash of my favorite creamer into the cup.
I can tell it’s not going to be a good day.
That dream—memory, nightmare, whatever—ruined my chance of a good day. It’s raining, so I press the start button for my car on my key fob while I finish getting ready.
I slip a couple of pieces of pizza into a baggy for a snack later, and throw it into my purse.
Getting to the door, I scratch Maggie's ear and give her a peck on her head.
I pull my raincoat from the closet and push my arms through the sleeves before I head out the door.
I make sure everything is locked up before walking down the stairs and getting into my car.
I drive to the bookstore with no music on, eyes on the road. We usually aren’t busy first thing in the morning, so I know I can continue to wallow in self-pity by myself for a bit before having to “fake it till you make it” with customers.
I pull into the parking lot on the side of the building, haul my purse over my shoulder, grab my to-go cup in one hand and the keys to the shop in the other. I turn the corner and stop dead in my tracks, my heart stuttering in my chest.
Standing at the door, Harley has a to-go cup, a white paper bag, and a smile that could make any woman drop to the ground on sight.
He sees me, and his eyes flash with a sliver of worry. He walks towards me, getting to me before I can make it to him. “Ember, what’s wrong?” He eyes me warily.
I smile, putting my hand out, signalling that I need a moment. If he touches me, I'll lose it right here, and I'll be completely ruined for work today. I have to be here today, so I need my distance.
He moves out of the way, allowing me to unlock the door of the shop.
I still have about ten minutes before I need to flip the sign on, so I shut the door and lock it.
Harley follows me to the back room, not saying a word.
I put my things on the desk we keep back here, and let my palms lay flat on the surface.
My head drops, and I try to take deep breaths. I feel him shift behind me, and he rests his hand on my back.
“I just need you to tell me nothing happened,” he says quietly.
I stand and turn around, letting the tears finally fall. I’m only so fucking strong. His arms circle me, and I sob into his chest. I swear it's a normal occurrence for us at this point. I’ve lost count of how many times in three days he’s held me while I cried.
He holds me tight. “Ember, I am doing my best, but I am losing control of my composure.” He tightens his arms even more around me.
“I just had a memory visit in my dreams last night, and it ruined my mood,” I tell him softly. I don’t want him to worry about me, even though it seems inevitable.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, loosening his grip and looking down at me.
I shake my head because I have to open the store in just a few minutes. We walk out front, and I flip the lights on as we go. Lighting up the store gives me just a little bit of happiness. I hold a small smile.
“Do you think Mrs. Philch will mind if you have a work buddy today?” he asks in a teasing tone.
“She probably won’t mind you being here, but she’s not going to pay you.” I laugh out loud before walking to the front and turning on the switch to signal we’re open.
Harley follows me through the store, watching me do all of my bookkeeper duties. Finally, everything is done, and we’re ready to take customers. As expected, no one is here, and since it’s raining, I'm almost positive it'll be a slower than normal morning.
I head to the back to grab another chair, but Harley stops me.
“What do you need? These muscles can be put to work.” He hikes his arm up to flex his muscles, and I throw my head back and laugh.
“I was just going to grab a chair so you can sit with me,” I tell him.
He turns on his heels without another word and heads for the back. “The black chair work?” he calls out.
“Yeah that's fine,” I call back to him. Seconds later, he’s marching out with the chair held in his arms. He sets it down to the side of the checkout counter.
“I don’t want you to get in trouble for having me behind the counter,” he states before plopping down.
I grab the books from the Barter Stack and check them in.
It’s kind of like our own library. I love seeing what people bring back for the next person.
Harley watches me silently as I work, letting me do what I need to do.
Once that’s done, I flop down in my chair, leaning my head against my propped arm, and look over at Harley.
He’s already watching me. “Can I hold you, just for a minute?” he asks. I thought he meant to hug me, so I stand up and hold my arms out, but he snags my hand and pulls me into his lap. His arms go around me and I relax. This is definitely better than just a hug.
I close my eyes and soak in his smell. He smells like his cologne with a hint of coffee and rain. Honestly, there isn’t a better smell than that. He kisses the top of my head.
“Do you want to tell me about the dream?” he asks, his face pressed against my chest, his arms wrapped firmly around my body.
I let out a breath. If I said no, I know he wouldn't push me. But I feel safe with him, so I let it all out. As I'm talking, I stay cradled in his arms, not wanting to meet his eyes because I'm ashamed and scared of how he’ll react. I feel him tense up and suck in a breath at the worst parts.
Finally, I get to the end of my dream, and I go lax in his arms. He doesn’t say or do anything for a couple of minutes, and I get nervous. I sit up and look at him—his eyes are absolutely feral.
“Did you ever tell anyone? About what he was doing?” he asks calmly, despite his eyes telling me he’s anything but calm.
I let out a breath and hunch down. “No. At the time, I assumed it was normal,” I tell him. “I just figured that’s what women did.”
He’s shaking his head. “No, Ember, that’s not what women are supposed to do.”