37. Silas
Silas
Just over two weeks had passed, and Ember was starting to come back.
Little by little, I watched as she rebuilt herself and started to thrive in our life together.
Each step she took forward was not just her simply stitching the broken parts of herself but welding the pieces I offered her into place.
Each day that passed hardened her fragility, until the woman standing before me wasn’t just healed—she was forged into something far more resilient than she ever was before.
If you asked me at the beginning if I even thought this was possible, I would have laughed. Not because I doubted her, but because it took some people an entire lifetime to recover from things like this. Turns out, my girl’s fire had room to grow.
When I first brought her home, I thought there wasn’t going to be a chance in hell of getting her back fully—at least, not for a long time.
But just a few days in, she’d opened up to me, allowing me to be part of this process with her.
What started as an apology turned into me proving I wasn’t going anywhere, and we’ve taken it day by day since.
Considering the events that unfolded were enough to rewire anyone's brain, I waited for the days where she might regress, but this woman, this goddamn goddess, had yet to yield.
At first, we spent a lot of time just existing in each other's silence.
I felt it often, how the quiet would turn against her.
Every particle of the air surrounding us would go stale, and she would stiffen.
When those moments crept in and I saw her slipping into her own head, I did everything I could to pull her back out of it.
I talked about anything that came to mind—stories about my brothers and the stupid things we did growing up, like the time I duct-taped them to the wall.
I rambled about my plans for the club, about the future I wanted to build for us.
When she needed it most, when the quiet became the loudest, I told her how I felt about her.
Each time that conversation came up, I wished there was a better way to explain things.
There was no word that described my connection to her.
Every emotion felt too small, too soft for something that had rooted itself so deeply inside me.
Having her in my life wasn’t just something I wanted—it felt vital, like the breath in my lungs.
It was during these specific talks she made me realize that I’d never truly lived before her.
I simply wandered around a black-and-white world, refusing to see the color.
I think something inside me died when my mother did, and it was only after Ember found me that I started to notice it.
Somewhere along the way, without me even realizing it, she became the reason I looked forward to the idle moments.
The times when I could just sit, feel her skin and be in her presence.
Those moments became pivotal to her recovery, and as time went on, I realized just how important they were to me too.
They gave me purpose. She gave me purpose.
Every chance I was given to help her helped heal a small part of me.
This became our routine, at least for a little while.
Soon, I felt comfortable taking phone calls about the club without worrying about her.
On days I needed to attend meetings or go over numbers, I grabbed the blankets from our bed and made a little nest on the floor next to my chair.
She seemed content with that, and it became our daily thing.
I’d load her up with a variety of snacks, along with different books, and she’d snuggle into the blankets around her.
At times, I wished it could be me giving her that comfort in our bed, but little things like this made her happy.
After my meetings ended for the day, I looked down at her. “How does a shower sound?”
Tilting her head back and forth, she considered the thought before pulling the blanket from around her to stand. Walking toward my bathroom, she looked back over her shoulder once at me before turning the corner. Shaking my head, I heard her yell, “You coming or what?”
I stiffened at the offer before answering. “Are you sure you need help?”
A mess of brown hair popped out from around the corner along with a very naked collarbone. “Well, I need you. So...”
I stood from my chair faster than I probably should have, and she squealed before moving back toward the bathroom. Against my better judgement, I followed her.
By the time I opened the door, she had the water running and was standing next to the shower, waiting for me. There was a towel wrapped around her, and from what I could tell, her body seemed tense.
Closing the door, I looked over at her. “Are you sure?”
Nodding once, her eyes hardened, and she dropped her towel.
I moved closer, letting my eyes roam over her skin.
I had missed this body and the feeling of it in my hands.
I brushed my fingers over her hips and around her back.
Reacting to my touch, she stifled a breath, and I paused.
Sensing my doubt, she moved her hands to mine and continued the movement.
Her brown eyes slowly raised to mine and I swore I could tell exactly what she was thinking.
With a small smile, I guided her under the falling water.
As the drops rained over her, she held my gaze before grabbing my hand and pulling me under too, fully clothed.
At first, I thought it was because she was uncomfortable, but then her hands moved to the button on my jeans, and she pulled them down.
Stepping out, I kicked them into the corner before pulling her close.
Flattening my body against her back, I wrapped my arms around her.
Careful to avoid any sensitive areas, I lowered my head to her neck and just held her.
She accepted me and tightened her arms over mine.
When I noticed the water start to drop in temperature, I pulled away and grabbed the shampoo bottle.
Pouring some in my hand, I watched as the foam slid between my fingers.
Once it was soapy enough, I gently worked it through the strands of her hair, massaging her scalp.
Rinsing it out, I repeated the process with conditioner.
Next, I carefully washed her body. Her eyes closing as she made sounds of approval.
When I reached her thighs, I handed her the loofah, but she pushed it back toward me, lifting one leg up against the wall.
I breathed deeply at the sight of her exposed in front of me and channeled everything I had into controlling myself.
I washed her thigh down to her calf, easing the sponge across her.
I then moved to the other leg and she let out a low moan.
The sound instantly made me hard and I looked directly at her, to make sure I didn't imagine it.
I caught her eyes for the slightest second before she pulled my shirt off, pushing me up against the shower wall.
I kissed her deeply, letting my hands finally feel her.
The rush was exhilarating and I hadn't realized how tense I had been.
I kissed her more, before moving my lips to her neck and chest. The sound she made amplified, and soon, it echoed around us.
Turning her, I pushed her chest up against the glass wall and moved her hands up above her head. “Tell me what you want.” I pushed into her backside, as she tried to slide her hands down, but I gripped her wrists.
Throwing her head back, she pushed into me with her ass. “You, Silas. I want you.”
I placed her hands against the glass, telling her to stay while I bent to take off my boxers. After only a second, I was back behind her with my hands against hers. This time though, I placed my hands over hers and intertwined our fingers. “Ready?”
She nodded as I pushed inside and it felt like I’d died.
The moment she took my full length, I literally had to fight myself from cumming.
I thrusted inside her, watching the leftover suds on her skin, the way her chest moved against the glass.
This was where I belonged. This was where I would always belong.
I brought my mouth down to her ear and whispered to her as I pushed in harder. “I love you so fucking much.”
The moan that resulted was more of a cry, and she began to fight me to turn around. Allowing her the movement, I brought her legs up around me, and kissed her hard as her hands roamed over me. It was only when she tried to pull away again that I let her tear her mouth from mine.
“I love you too, Silas.”
Those words engrained themselves in my soul, in my very being as I kissed her again.
I took my time with her, pausing to check in.
We finished together as I held her under the water that was now cold.
She stood with her eyes closed, but not in an uncomfortable way.
Her body had relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen before.
She had needed this. The sound of the nozzle turning off caught her attention.
She made a small defeated sound in my direction.
I chuckled quietly as I stepped out, grabbing a towel. Wrapping it around her, I motioned for her to go into the bedroom. “Better?”
She didn’t respond but looked up with a content smile as she leaned into me. “Your clothes are still bagged in the room, do you want to go through them?”
She looked over the piles that had remained untouched and then to the dirty basket full of the clothes she’d been wearing. Nodding, she went to the drawer and pulled out some of my boxers and a shirt. I did the same, and we dressed before settling onto the bed, another first.
Soon, we were surrounded by different piles of shirts, blankets, and jackets. There was a clear indication that she wanted to get rid of most of it, but the more time that passed, the more she became uncomfortable.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, as she held up a dress, staring at it.
“I guess I just realized I don’t even have anywhere to put this stuff now, you know?”
Wanting to stop whatever thoughts were in her head, I walked over to the closet and grabbed a handful of coat hangers from the rack.
Tossing them onto the bed, I took the dress from her and threaded the hanger through it.
“What do you mean? There’s lots of room in the closet and my dresser,” I explained, laying the dress down and grabbing a shirt. “Well, our dresser.”
I lifted my eyes to her to find her smiling. Smiling.
The jolt that hit my heart was instant. “Because you’ll be moving in with me.”
The grin on her face only grew as she followed my lead with the clothes, reaching between us for more. Together, we hung the rest of the random piles and then sorted through the ones she wanted to donate. As I threw the bags away, she picked up one of the last pieces on the bed.
My jacket.
The one I’d originally left in her room.
I watched her from the corner of my eye as I gathered more hangers.
She looked down at the black fabric for a few seconds before pulling it on and rolling up the oversized sleeves.
Shifting the items in my arms as they started to fall, I walked the contents over to the closet.
The one that now belonged to both of us.
Sliding my dark items to the back, I made room for all her things.
Each top I lifted was different from the last but all made from bright ass colors.
There was everything from glitter fabric to chevron patterns.
By the time I was done, I found myself quietly laughing at the colorful chaos in front of me.
My closet wasn't just full of clothes now; it was full of her. I scoffed at myself as I placed the last hanger. A few weeks ago, my plan had been to bleed this color out of her completely because I didn’t want to see it.
Little did I know I would let it saturate my life.
It felt good. Right.
Now I would just have to work on restoring her flame.
When I returned, she was collecting the clothes left into one single bag.
Some she hadn’t recognized, and some she simply didn’t want anymore.
There were so many times through this process that I wanted to just stop and offer to buy her a whole new wardrobe, but I restrained myself—that would come in time.
As she tied the bag and set it against the wall, I swore her eyes seemed different, lighter in some way. Looking down at the bed, she fluffed one of the pillows before grabbing my attention. “I think our backs would appreciate sleeping in here from now on. I call the left side.”