Page 39 of To Save a Vampire
There are two tan armchairs along one wall. An elderly man in gray button-down pajamas sits in the chair farthest from us, taking in the sight of us with inquisitive dark eyes behind thin black glasses. He must be Asher’s grandpa.
A small oak end table fills the space between the chairs. A lamp provides a yellow hue around the room, sending our faint shadows against the white walls. The carpet is worn but clean, and the smell of vanilla wafts through the small room.
Asher’s immense happiness is overwhelming my emotions. Judging by the vacant look on my mother’s face, she rejected her emotions miles back.
With Ky.
Asher stands towering over the thin, elderly woman. She’s overjoyed, but not just from Asher’s return it seems. She appears to be pleased that my mother and I are here as well. She stretches high in her black slippers to reach her arms around her grandson and embrace him for the first time in what must be years.
I look away, allowing a sense of privacy for them. I swallow hard as guilt drowns me alive at how incredibly unhappy I am during this reunion. It’s probably a day Asher thought he’d never have again. A day with his family. But my family is now falling away, piece by piece. Ky is gone, and my mother seems to have left her life with him.
I blink repeatedly, trying to stay grounded in this moment. I take in Asher’s beautiful smile, his grandmother’s shining eyes, his grandfather’s proud face. There’s life and love filling this room, and my mother and I are gasping for air as it threatens to pull us under. It’s pressing against the walls of my chest, and I can’t find air that isn’t diluted with it. I take a few more quick short breaths, but nothing helps.
Asher’s silver eyes meet mine, and his face falls. His happiness dissolves just from my presence. I should go. I step back, trying to allow the happiness to fill my space in my absence. My back presses against the cold wall near the stairs we just came down. With one swift turn, I’m halfway up the stairs.
Just a few more steps and I’ll be out and into the night air. Almost there.
But then his hands are on me. He holds me lightly by my shoulders, and I stop walking as soon as he touches me. My breath shakes out of me, unsteady and loud in the quiet, empty stairwell. I turn until we’re face to face, but we’re still not eye to eye. He looks down at me in the darkness. His face is etched in worry, and I can’t find words to fill the void between us.
He licks his lips, releasing a slow breath, and searches my tired eyes as quiet tears stream down my dirty face. His long fingers thread through my hair, and he pulls me to his chest. Strong arms wrap safely around me, enveloping me like I could meld into him altogether. My sadness mixes with his happiness to find a state of contentment.
The pain that’s been weighing my chest and lungs lifts a little. Not entirely. It’s still there, scarred into my memory, body, and soul. But it’s not as heavy with Asher here holding me up.
I can breathe again.
My palms are pressed between us. My fingers twist into the stiff fabric of his shirt, allowing him to hold me to him for just a little while. His cheek rests against my messy hair. My tears soak into his chest, and he absorbs my pain.
I don’t know how long we stand like that—in the little cocoon of our own emotions, the dark stairwell shielding us from the life we both know we will return to.
“I think you should take a shower and sleep. We all should sleep. A lot,” he says with a little laugh.
I nod my head against his shoulder. He leads me down the stairs, one hand wrapped around my waist as my body continues leaning into him.
This is not how I should be meeting his family. I’m a disaster, and he’s walking perfection. I hate the weakness that’s wrecking my body, but I can’t find it in me to put on a fake face. I’m too tired, emotionally and physically, to force my feelings.
We stand back in the living room; it’s no longer bursting with happiness, but the remnants of emotions still linger. His grandmother is nowhere to be seen. My mother holds Ripper in her lap in one of the tan chairs, her thin fingers drifting mindlessly through the little dog’s short hair. His eyes are closed, and I hear a light snore.
Asher’s grandfather stands from his seat, walking slowly across the room to us. His posture is bent slightly, but his confidence is there in his stride. He stands before me—white hair and pajamas askew—but the kindness in his dark eyes warms me.
“Shae made up the guest room for you and Charlotte. She’s been fretting about the lot of you for nearly a month now.” His voice is a little gravelly as he speaks. “Asher why don’t you show ‘em to their room and we can all catch up in the morning.” He clasps Asher on the shoulder like he just has to make sure he’s really here, like the weight of his hand could keep his grandson here in this spot.
Asher nods to the old man. His hand pressing lightly against my hip, he guides me a few feet toward a door across the small room. For a moment I’m mortified by how I must look—dirty and broken and weak. My heart pounds in my chest at how different our first meeting should be. How amazing and successful this moment could have felt if Ky were here to share it. I swallow hard and straighten my spine.
I turn quickly out of Asher’s grasp and extend my hand to his grandfather.
“My name’s Fallon Fiercely, sir,” I say, swallowing hard and tilting my chin up higher.
The wrinkles around his eyes grow as he smiles at me. More happiness that I don’t want right now but appreciate all the same. He takes my small hand in his. His grip is loose but warm. Kind and caring.
“That’s a beautiful name. Call me Jim.” He releases my hand and smiles over my shoulder at Asher. There’s a look of approval in his eyes. “Now please, sleep. Y’all look like you went to take a midnight stroll, but wound up in a manure field by mistake.” Shae’s warm laughter is heard from the room adjacent to us. The noise is high pitched but infectious.
I can’t hide the small smile that tugs at the corner of my lips. I can’t fester in my sadness forever. And I can’t force happiness out of my life. It’s there whether I’m currently accepting it or not. Whether I can feel it or not. It’s still there. Waiting for me.
Just like Asher.
Thirteen
The Burrow
