Page 65 of Into the Light

“I bought it because you encouraged me to.” She turned so she was facing me. “You told me that I should follow my dreams. This place? When I saw it this week, I realized that this is my dream. Living in a small place like this, with these sunsets, raising kids . . .with you?”

As if the words finally registered in her mind, she jumped off my lap.

“I don’t want kids.” She crossed her arms and looked around as the night settled in around us. “I didn’t ask to be here.”

She walked inside as I jumped out of my chair to chase after her. With how she emphasized only a portion of what I told her, I could feel something was fucking wrong.

“I thought this would make up for treating you like shit last weekend.” I trailed after her as she grabbed her bag and headed upstairs. So much for giving her a tour.

She was huffing and refusing to let me in. I needed for her to tell me what was wrong, but she kept stomping around upstairs until she reached the long hallway of doors.

“What did I do wrong?” I demanded as she slammed open the first door she saw, which was one of the hall bathrooms. Not a peep from her, and it was now starting to get under my skin.

“Nothing.” She huffed, but didn’t give me a single glance back. Well, good. I was glad she was talking to me at least.

She shoved the second door and third door before settling on the smaller guestroom in the back corner. Damn. I wasn’t expecting her to fall at my knees again and say what she did, but this wasn’t the reaction I was expecting, especially after she’d been so hot and cold all day.

I needed her to talk to me. I needed her to let me in.

Why wasn’t she letting me in? I was becoming frantic.

“I don’t get this,” I practically screamed at her from the hallway as she shoved her bag on the bed.

“Get what?” She shuffled around inside her bag, trying to make herself look busy.

“You told me that you were fucking falling in love—”

“I did not.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and I leaned against the doorframe, watching her. My eyes narrowing at her because she confessed it in front of the whole fucking class.

“Ugh.” She threw her hands up in the air before falling to her knees and burying her head into her hands. I rushed to where she’d fallen, dropping down to reach her level.

“I didn’t mean that . . .” I said before her hiccups and sobs carried through the room. There was a painful ache inside my chest because I didn’t want to be the one to hurt her, but I didn’t understand what was happening either.

“It wasn’t . . . You wouldn’t understand.” Her sobs slowed. “This is so beautiful. It was a precious moment earlier and I completely ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, Ember.”

“I always ruin everything,” she mumbled, and the wails began again. I held her as she rocked in my arms, letting her warm body fold around my hands.

Chapter twenty-two

This was the ideal way to make up for the embarrassment he had caused me last weekend. It felt like the perfect moment as we sat together, his hands gently holding my waist, watching the sun dip below the horizon.

And here we were, sitting in a house where our dreams resided. He said the house was mine, but I also was smart enough to know I signed nothing. Although, it wouldn’t surprise me if my name ended up on the title.

Then he mentioned a future with children, and my heart constricted. A familiar feeling of helplessness and profound loss washed over me. My chest was so tight, I thought I would have a panic attack like Rain had last weekend.

This led us to the moment where I hadn’t planned to break down, yet here I was, in his arms once again. He carried me downstairs to the cozy fire, where tears racked my body, placed me on the couch under a thick blanket, and settled in behind me, tracing soothing circles on my back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and I knew he wasn’t apologizing for anything he had done. Instead, it was a heartfelt apology born from empathy, an apology for reliving this pain repeatedly.

He sat with me, his hands moving from my lower back to my hair, his touch a comforting dance around me. Leaning back into him, I closed my eyes, recognizing that it was time. I needed to share this with him, to move forward, which had been my guiding principle all along.

I leaned farther back so my back was supported by his chest and took a deep breath, preparing to open up.

“Ember, it’s okay,” Rain muttered. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Closing my eyes, I knew I had to tell him. It was time, no matter how hard it would be. I owed it to myself because there was more than one story I was trying to write today. I wanted to exploreourversion too.

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