“I’m debating calling you Charles Dickens from here on out.”
I headed to the door, flipped over the “closed” sign, and locked the top bolt. I then turned around to see Ash wandering the shelves of the bookstore. His eyes still had that spark of admiration as he took it all in. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I didn’t want to take my eyes off him. A part of me felt as if he wasn’t real. Maybe I was just in a state of needing comfort, and the memory of him was what comforted me the most.
No, this is real.
He is real.
I cleared my throat. “Whiskey?”
“Neat.”
Of course he took his whiskey neat. I wouldn’t expect anything else from him. I headed behind the bar and poured whiskey into two glasses. I downed one before pouring myself another shot. My nerves needed a drink or two, too.
I carried the drinks over to Ash and handed him a glass. He took it and then clinked it with mine.
“To surprising reunions,” he offered.
I clinked his glass back. We each took a sip of the whiskey, and the smoothness warmed my whole body. He gestured toward two of the comfy chairs next to Mom’s reading nook. I followed his lead, and we each took a seat.
“I—” we both started to speak at the same time.
We nervously laughed.
“You first,” he offered.
I rubbed my sweaty palm against the fabric of my dress as my mind tried to decide on a good starting point for the conversation. “You’re a paramedic now?” I asked.
“Yeah. Took after my father. Figured I should actually go out and become somebody.”
“You were always somebody, Ash. The only difference now is you wear a uniform.”
For a moment, something unguarded flickered in his eyes. He pushed it down just as fast as he dragged a hand through his hair. How did he do that? How did he blink away his broken pieces so quickly?
“I never thought I’d see you again,” I told him. I felt my eyes tearing up as I thought back to that period of my life. Ash met me when I was deeply living in the shadows, and for some reason unknown to me, he had enough courage to share his light with me. Then when his world got dark, he didn’t allow me to return the favor. I felt betrayed by him leaving, but even more so, I felt sad for him.
I spent a lot of years in therapy working on my mental health and making peace with the idea of letting him go off to try to find himself. Thanks to my therapist, I understood that Ash’s decisions were for his own well-being, not mine. But that didn’t make the heartbreak any less. It didn’t make letting him go easier.
He clasped his hands together and sat back in his chair, still looking at me with amazement. My skin heated up from his stare. “That time period meant just as much to me as it did you, Karla. You meant everything to me. I can promise you that.”
Then why did you let me go?
For a moment’s time, I got lost in his irises. I was afraid to blink in fear that he might disappear.
“You look great,” he added.
I laughed and brushed my palm against my messy hair. “I doubt that after a night of no sleep.”
“You do, though. You look beautiful.”
I wasn’t sure what to do with his words or the way they made me feel. His gaze sent a gentle warmth throughout my body, heating parts of me that I didn’t even realize were cold until that very moment.
He then grew somber. “But your grandmother... Is she OK?”
“Yes. She will be, at least. With time and guidance. Thank you for saving her.”
“It’s my job.”
“Yeah... but still, thank you.”
