Page 54 of Embers Glow After the Fire

“Go to bed.” Brendon cracks.

“Come with me,” he pleads.

“No.” Brendon stands and pushes his chair in. It’s rod-iron legs grind against the stone. “Not tonight.” He doesn’t deserve the sweet man’s empathy.

He turns away.

“Thank you—” The sentence is cut by a rush of emotion he bites back. He enters the house and climbs the stairs. He closes himself in his room and latches the door locked, barricading himself from the world.

Sitting on the edge of the bed in the darkness, he listens for Matthew’s footsteps in the hall. They pause outside the door before traipsing into the room across the hall.

Chapter 22

Aftermath

Matthew drifted off when the sky turned gradient shades of blue-violet ahead of the rising sun and birds began singing their morning tunes as if the day ahead will be the same as every other. He’s grown comfortable with the stillness of his personal space since losing Adam but this renewed loneliness is destabilizing. He misses the bedmate who’s brightened his mornings, days, and evenings during this vacation.

The short sleep was restless and he’s just as tired as the moment his head lay on the pillow. He swallows past the sharp sting in his throat and rolls off the bed, smoothing out the lush white comforter one more time.

He pulls on an old gray t-shirt with denim shorts. Packing everything else back into his suitcases and dragging the luggage to the hall. Brendon’s door is still shut and the room past it is silently unnerving.

He veers into the bathroom to relieve himself and dampen his curls with wet hands to scrunch them back into tidy bundles. The mirror reflects a haggard sight with the dark track of fingerprints under his jaw and matching bags under his eyes. He fumbles a deep breath before strolling back into the hall.

Resting a shoulder against Brendon’s doorframe, he gently taps it with hooked knuckles and listens with his ear close to the wood. His hand reaches for the brass knob but pauses when there’s no response. Hopefully, he’s getting some sleep.

?Matthew hurls his duffle bag over one shoulder and lifts the rolling suitcase off the floor, carrying both down the stairs with concentrated steps.

Despite the glorious sunshine outside, the energy in the cabin has shifted and the bright cheery space is heavy with gloom.

Robbie is hunched over a steamy mug of coffee and Dennis is busying himself packing the fridge into coolers and paper bags sprawled over stone countertops.

“Morning.” Matthew’s voice squeaks. He parks his luggage next to the sofa and pets Robbie’s shoulder.

The pint-sized hero leans back against his chest and lets out an exhausted sigh.

“Did you get any sleep?” Dennis whispers.

“A little.”

“Is Brendon okay?” Robbie’s brow stretches.

“I don’t know.” Matthew lifts his shoulders.

The room falls silent for a moment.

The wheels of Perry’s suitcase grind up the hall and settle next to the pool table. He wraps an arm around Matthew’s shoulder and kisses his forehead then grips Robbie’s shoulders and nuzzles the top of his head. He perches on the neighboring barstool and rubs the shattered host’s back.

The great room is somber except for the shuffling of tin-foiled bundles and craft paper as Dennis works.

Jamie’s crooked smile and curious brow appear in the glass doors, checking if it’s clear to enter.

Robbie claps his fingers against his palm and waves an invite.

The pair cross the threshold. Nathan waddles close at Jamie’s back, hanging over his shoulders with his lips pressed in a pensive smile.

Jamie strokes Robbie’s bicep, trying his hardest to offer comfort.

Perry rounds the island and gathers a clinking bundle of mugs from a cupboard. “Who wants coffee?”

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