Page 54 of Firefly Embers

The therapist nodded, urging me to continue.

What did I want to share about Ray?

I’m sure she didn’t want to hear about how responsive she was to my touch, how her body reacted like it was made specifically for me. She probably didn’t want to know about how sinking inside her for the first time had left me raw and emotional at how good it had felt, and how right. So, I settled on a version of all of the above.

“Rayna Cortez is the sun that shines, even on my darkest days. She is my anchor in the storm, keeping me from drifting. She’s it for me, and she’s the love of my life.”

“It sounds like she’s a very special woman. It takes a strong partner to stand beside you, encouraging you to be the best version of yourself. Can you tell me about the moment you realized that you loved her?”

I thought back, trying to remember the singular moment I knew that my feelings for her had veered from friendly to romantic.

There had been so many moments over the years that I’d seen her in a light that was more than just friends, but only one stood out that encompassed everything for me.

WADE - 27 YEARS OLD

The cool water rushed around my fingers as I trailed them through the creek’s inky depths. The ripples waved around the traces of my touch, receding into nothingness as they edged outward.

Everything hurt.

I had come to the one place we shared since I was a little boy. Ma always brought Max and me to the cove when we needed a quiet place to chat, think, or just exist. It had become our place. It was the last place on earth where I felt as if I could still feel her.

I had discarded my suit jacket beside me as soon as I sat down on the riverbank, yet I could still hear my cell phone buzzing in one of the pockets. I couldn’t bring myself to answer whoever was relentlessly calling. I needed to be alone for a while.

Everyone always expected me to be the happy twin. The one they could count on to lift their spirits when times got tough. Max was the storm cloud, and I was the sunlight.

But right now, I couldn’t be that happy-go-lucky guy. There wasn’t a single ounce of happiness flowing through my veins that I could spare for anyone else. I was completely drained and exhausted.

The crunch of leaves and snapping of twigs behind me signaled her approach, but I didn’t need to hear her to know who it was. I had an uncanny ability to sense Ray long before seeing her.

I’m sure the fact that we had been best friends for fifteen years had something to do with it. Or, it could have been the uncomfortable fluttering in my stomach that had started recently, heightening my senses to her presence.

“Want some company?” she questioned, plopping down beside me on the bank of the small creek that flowed through the cove.

Here’s the thing about Ray: she‌ rarely gave you a choice. Even if she posed something as a question, she really wasn’t asking. She was inadvertently telling you what she was going to do. Hence, she was sitting beside me when I couldn’t be bothered to be any sort of pleasant company.

We sat in silence for what felt like hours, but likely only minutes, before someone spoke. Neither Ray nor I was any good at expressing our emotions. We both repressed things until we exploded, often causing volatile blowups at each other that resulted in us tiptoeing around one another for a couple of days, before the person in the wrong apologized.

“The service was beautiful,” she whispered, breaking the quiet serenity.

I grumbled in response, not bothering to speak. I didn’t trust myself enough not to lash out after the emotional rollercoaster I’d been riding over the last week.

“I’m sure she would have loved it. All those people coming to see her? She was always one for a little bit of theatrics.”

I didn’t bother responding as I stared off into the trees surrounding us. I knew Ray meant well. When the situation was reversed, I had done the same thing, sitting beside her, cracking jokes and hoping to make her smile—even if just for a second during one of the hardest moments of her life.

Giving it one last valiant effort, Ray stood from her spot beside me, cleared her throat, and in a booming, announcer-like voice, exclaimed, “Welcome to the dead moms club!” She waggled her fingers dramatically at her sides.

That was enough to get a small tilt of my lip and a breathy chuckle. I scrubbed my hand down my face and rested it on my bent knee.

“Fuck, Ray. That’s not funny,” I huffed, doing my best to hide the sound of the secondary chuckle that threatened to crawl its way up my throat.

There was nothing, and I mean nothing, funny about losing my mother. Ma had been the glue holding our family together for so long, and the mere thought of returning to normal life without her had my heart beating wildly in my chest.

We weren’t even given a chance to say goodbye. She was here one minute and gone the next. She didn’t even see it coming.

A fucking brain aneurysm.

Life could be so goddamn cruel when it wanted to be. Our vibrant, beautiful, and full-of-wisdom mother had been taken from us without warning. She had lived a good, healthy, and happy life—only to be robbed of the rest by a medical anomaly.