Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 149606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
We never got our ride home together that last day. Ember’s true spirit got left on that mountain.
Not this time. Today, I’m bringing my wife home.
Ember’s car is in the place where we always park—at the end of the trails off a dirt side road. When I pull up next to it, I’m disappointed to see she’s not waiting in the car for me to arrive so we can take the walk together to the waterfall.
Regardless, my heart pounds with a mix of apprehension and giddy happiness with every step as I hike up the woodsy trail that leads to the top of the mountain. The last time I was on this path, my entire life was being torn apart in the worst way imaginable and would never be the same.
I have no idea what Ember’s feeling or thinking right now, but I can’t help but hope some of her memories have come back. The note, the reference to our “special place,” asking for our favorite ice cream, it all points to her remembering those things. I can’t dismiss how worrying her odd behavior this morning was, though. She seemed confused, even disoriented. What if she’s having some kind of mental breakdown on the top of the mountain?
But…what if she actually does remember? Her past? Herself? Kenzi? Us?
I wipe the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand and look up at the clouds. Is she looking at the same clouds right now while she waits for me? Is she remembering me and all our special things?
I love where we’re at in our relationship now, but I can’t lie—I want all of her back. She deserves to remember her entire life—the good, the bad—every moment. Not just the past year and a half.
Fuck. I can’t let myself go wild with wishes and questions. I’ll lose my mind before I get to the top of this mountain.
When I reach the narrow, overgrown fork in the path that leads to our spot, the wind carries the scent of her perfume right to me. My favorite perfume. My aphrodisiac.
I push a few low branches out of the way, ducking my head beneath them, and there she is. Standing a few feet away from our rock with the biggest smile on her face, leaning on an old shovel, which is usually kept in the shed in our backyard. She’s wearing the leather jacket I gave her in high school—the same one she wore the night she got us the Airbnb. I always loved seeing that jacket on her, because it screamed that’s my girl.
“What took ya so long, Valentine?” she teases with a flirty grin.
My breath catches on the lump in my throat, and tears burn in my eyes. Happiness hits me like a freight train. So powerful it almost renders me unable to move.
“Baby,” I choke out as I walk slowly toward her. I want to run and scoop her up, but my legs are like concrete weights, refusing to move faster. “What are you doing up here? Why didn’t you wait for me?”
She tosses the old rusty shovel to me, and I catch it with one hand. I feel like I’m dreaming when she takes the necklace off and holds the key up. The gem glistens in the sun.
“I remember what this opens,” she says, swinging it between us.
I swallow hard. “Do you?”
“Yup, and I think it’s right there.” She points to the ground in front of her. “If I remember right?”
“Ember…” I can barely get the words out. My heart is beating too fast. My hopes are swirling too fast. “Do you—?”
With a confident, flirty smile—the smile I’ve ached to see—she touches my lips with her finger. “Shh…let’s do this first.”
Taking a deep breath, I chew the inside of my cheek and let her happiness infect me. Everything is okay now. This is my Ember—happy, playful, and loving.
I push the tip of the shovel into the ground and lean my boot into it, lifting up the earth and tossing it to the side.
I do it again.
Shaking my hair out of my face, I grin at her, playing along with the game. “You sure it’s here, baby?”
She nods confidently. “Yup. You put it right there.”
I dig up another layer of dirt.
“How far down did I put it?”
“Hmm. About two or three feet.”
“You sure?”
“I’m positive.”
I dig a little deeper as she watches impatiently, holding on to the key.
Clink.
The shovel hits something solid.
I look up and wink at her. “Well, well, I guess you were right. As usual.”
“Yay!” she exclaims. “And you thought we’d never be able to find it after so many years.”
She’s right. I always thought when we came back to find it, after it being buried for fifteen years, the ground would be so overgrown that we’d have to hunt for it. It’s been much longer than the fifteen years we originally planned, and here it is, right where we buried it on our first anniversary.