“That’s not what I asked.”
He stiffens. “You deserve someone whole, Ember. Not a man built from ashes.”
My throat burns. “I’m not asking you to save me.”
His eyes flicker. “Then what the hellareyou asking?”
“I’m asking you to see me,” I snap. “Not the charity case. Not the girl who can’t cook rice without setting off the fire alarm.Me.”
“Iseeyou,” he says, voice breaking. “That’s the problem.”
And before I can stop him, before I can find the words to fix it—he’s gone.
Out the back door.
Into the smoke.
I spend the next day hollow.
I tell myself it was always fake. Always temporary.
But the lie doesn’t stick.
Because the truth is, I fell for a man who never asked me to be anything butme. Who carried my groceries, rubbed my back during the meeting with the insurance company, and kissed me like he needed air.
The fireman who never flinched at my fire and ashes.
So that night, I do something insane.
I light a candle in the kitchen. Just one. A soft flicker.
And I wait.
And wait.
And just when I’m about to give up, the door slams open.
Clay stands in the entryway, melting snow dripping from his shoulders, eyes wild.
“I tried,” he growls. “I tried to let you go. To do the noble thing.”
I rise slowly, heart hammering.
“But I can’t, Ember. Iwon’t.I don’t want to be noble. I wantyou.”
I blink, tears blurring the edges.
He stalks forward, water pooling at his boots. “You hear me? I want your mess. Your clay-covered hands. Your stupid salsa-ashtray. All of it.”
“You want me,” I whisper, stepping closer.
His hands grip my waist. “I want all of it. And I’m done pretending otherwise.”
I reach up, fingers threading through his damp hair.
“Then stop talking andprove it.”
And he does.
