Love, Artifacts, and You by Sarah Ready

14

Emma

He loves me. He wants to marry me.

I rest my head on Andrew’s chest and wrap my arms around him. The air is cooler here than in the forest, but Andrew is warm, so I curl into him. He lays on his back on the pile of our clothing, completely relaxed. I press my face into his neck and breathe in the heat of him. I love him so much.

I rub my hands over his shoulders, his chest and arms. I can feel the thin scars as I pass my hands over him. I stroke him gently, sweep the sadness of them away, like an archeologist with their brush, meticulously removing the dusty layers.

He came back to me. Seeing what he suffered, it’s a miracle that he’s here.

What he doesn’t realize is that I would take him any way he came to me, scarred or not, rich or poor…in good times and bad, for better or for worse.

The cavern light has faded. Andrew runs his hand over the curve of my hip and then rests it at the base of my spine. A warm pulse deep inside me responds to his touch. I feel tethered to him.

“This is the first time I’ve been in the dark since escaping the mine.”

I shift and look up at him, but his face is completely shadowed. “You haven’t…”

He pulls me closer. “No. Every time I tried I’d feel like I was suffocating, like I was being buried alive. I couldn’t breathe, I’d break out in a sweat. I’d go senseless with fear until I turned the light back on. I never lasted more than fifteen seconds. I haven’t been in the dark in almost five years.”

I reach up and brush my hand over his face and through his hair. “What happened?”

“I found something that scared me more than the fear.”

“What?”

“Losing you.”

I move up and brush my mouth across his lips. “You won’t lose me. I’m right here.”

He leans into me, buries his face in my hair and takes a deep shuddering breath.

“How’s this,” I say. “If either of us ever gets lost, all we have to do is come back here. That’s what this place is for isn’t it? Finding your true love again?”

He makes a noise of assent and presses his mouth against mine. Finally he pulls away.

“I didn’t think I’d ever be with you again,” he says. His voice is low and rough, like the edges of the sandstone surrounding us.

“Me either.”

“When we were young, everyone said you shouldn’t be with me because I was a former street kid and destined to go nowhere. Now, people will say you shouldn’t be with me because I’m broken.”

I make a noise of disagreement.

“It’s the truth, Emma. I’m broken. I spent five years crawling like an animal through a mine, chained to five other miserable souls, prying loose emeralds. If you couldn’t walk into the mine, you died. If you didn’t bring out your quota, you died. My uncle was murdered in the first year, by Crudell. I called him and his lackeys the wardens. There were a dozen prisoners, sometimes two dozen, always there. Always chained.”

I curl into him and hold him. I want to reassure myself that he’s here, with me.

“Storms would come and the rain would wash down the mountain and fill the mine. Once all five of the men chained to me drowned. I don’t know how or why I lived. It took me fifteen hours to drag their bodies out. I felt then that it was a blessing that my uncle died so early on. He never had to see the horrors of it.”

Andrew continues, his voice a quiet whisper, like he’s afraid to say what happened out loud. I press my hand against his cheek.

“I tried to escape. Eighteen times. I wanted desperately to get back to you. Each time, Crudell held me for days. He was creative in the ways he tried to dissuade me from running.”

“No. Andrew.” I press my forehead to his. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve looked harder. I should’ve tried harder. I…I failed you.”

“You haven’t.” He sits up and pulls me into his lap. Wraps his arms around me. “Just by being you, staying you, you’ve done more than I could’ve ever hoped.”

I lean into him and soak up his warmth. Then I say, “You may have conquered the dark. But I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I spent every night starting now with you.”

I feel him smile against my cheek. “I don’t mind. In fact, I demand it.”

“We should get married.”

He lets out a laugh, “I already asked. You said yes.”

“I mean this week, or next. I don’t want to wait.”

He presses a kiss to my mouth. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

I wakeup spooned in Andrew’s arms in his king bed back at the rental house. There’s a loud banging on the door. I growl then moan, “Go away.” My eyes are gritty and I realize I’m not going to wake up without a healthy dose of coffee.

The knocking continues. I look over my shoulder at Andrew. He’s still asleep. Looks like persistent knocking isn’t something that’ll wake him. I slip out from under his arm and scoot to the edge of the bed. The sunrise is just starting to filter through the curtains. So, it’s six-ish. In the morning.

The knocking stops and I let out a sigh of relief. But then, my cell phone starts vibrating. It’s in my shorts pocket on the floor. Suddenly, my chest tightens. This isn’t some random jerk pounding on the door at the crack of dawn. Someone’s trying to reach me. I hop off the bed and yank my cell phone out my shorts pocket. It’s Justin.

“Hello?”

“Emma. I’m at the door. Open up, for crying out loud.”

I look back at Andrew. Still asleep. His arm is thrown over the spot where I was lying and his head is resting on my pillow. I throw on my shorts and my tank top.

“What is it?” I move back toward the bed to wake up Andrew.

“Linda and I have been calling for hours. What have you been doing? Em, it’s your dad.”

At his words, I forget about waking Andrew. I rush from the room and run down the stairs. When I yank open the front door I find Justin standing there. I drop my phone. His eyes are bloodshot and he has bags under them. He’s in a wrinkled t-shirt and jeans, and his hair is a mess. I’ve never seen him like this. Not even after the benders he did studying for the bar or the sleepless weeks before his first big trial.

A pulse of panic rolls over me.

“What happened. Is he—”

I can’t say it. He can’t be dead.

“No. No. Can I come in? I left the city just after two to get here. I’ve been driving all night.”

A small wave of relief moves through me. My dad’s not dead. But it is something serious. Otherwise Justin wouldn’t have left in the middle of the night to reach me.

“Right. Come in. I’ll get coffee. You can sit down.”

I lead him to the kitchen and flip on the automatic coffeemaker.

“What happened, Justin? Please, I’m really freaked out.”

He nods. “Linda called me last night. Your dad had another stroke. He’s not doing well. He needs you there. He made me promise to bring you back.”

“Of course I’ll come.” I press my hand to my stomach. Dad’s been getting weaker and I knew that his time was going to come soon. “Of course I’ll come. I just have to grab some clothes from the cabin.”

Justin looks at my face and his softens in sympathy. “Hey. It’ll be alright.”

I nod and hold back my tears. He’s right. This has happened before. It’ll be okay this time too.

“Come here,” he says. He holds open his arms.

I walk into them and hug him back. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course I came.”

“Hello, Van Cleeve. I didn’t know we were expecting company,” Andrew says.

I look toward the hall. Andrew leans in the kitchen doorway, deceptively casual. He raises an eyebrow at Justin. I see the same light in Andrew’s eyes that he had after he made love to me in the living room. He’s not happy to see Justin here. Not at all.

Justin slowly pulls back from me and nods at Andrew. “Morning,” he says in a neutral voice.

Andrew is fully dressed in jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. When I left him he was naked and still sleeping. He must’ve woken up, realized I was gone, thrown on his clothes and rushed down the stairs.

My heart pinches at the thought that he might’ve been worried that I left him. I walk over to him, take his hand and pull him into the kitchen. He eyes Justin with wariness and suspicion. Justin remains stoically distant.

“Andrew,” I say. I squeeze his hand. “Justin drove all night to get here. My dad—” My voice falters and I choke on the last word.

Andrew turns quickly and focuses his entire attention on me. “What happened?” He takes both my hands. “Are you okay?”

I press my lips into a firm line and nod my head yes.

The coffeemaker beeps. The pot is full of morning roast. Justin walks over and pulls down three mugs from the glass-fronted cabinet. He pours three cups of coffee and then sets them down on the counter in front of us.

Andrew looks at Justin and the coffee and then nods his thanks. He pushes a mug toward me. “Drink,” he says. Then he turns to Justin. “What happened?”

I look down and wrap my hands around the steaming mug.

Justin speaks in a perfunctory tone. “Last night at nine p.m. Mr. Castleton’s full-time nurse phoned me after she failed in her attempts to reach Emma. She made me aware that Mr. Castleton was seeking emergency medical care for a stroke. I don’t have any updates on his condition. The last I heard was at midnight when Linda informed me it would be prudent if Emma came as quickly as possible. I left shortly after.”

I feel Andrew stiffen beside me. He reaches out and puts a hand to my lower back. I close my eyes and drop my chin. It trembles and I clamp my teeth together.

“I’ll take you,” Andrew says. “We can go together.”

“No,” Justin says.

I feel Andrew’s hand tense on my back. I open my eyes. Andrew and Justin are locked in a battle of wills. They aren’t moving, but their eyes say a whole lot more than words could express.

Justin breaks eye contact first. He looks at me.

“Linda told me that learning of Andrew’s return sent your father into a decline. She feels it would be extremely detrimental for your father’s health to see Andrew. Or even for you to mention him. Linda thinks his presence could tip the scales—”

“That’s ridiculous,” I cry. Stupid, idiotic, ridiculous.

Andrew puts a staying hand on my arm. “No. He’s right. If my presence upsets your father then I shouldn’t be there.”

I frown and look up at him. “But it doesn’t make any sense.”

He smiles at me ruefully. “It doesn’t have to make sense. Your father is important to you, his health is important, therefore, it’s important to me. Go.” He nods to the door. “You’ll be back by tomorrow or the next day. Your dad will be fine.”

I shake my head but he takes my hands and squeezes them. “You’ll be back tomorrow or the next day,” he repeats more firmly, “and then we’ll do that thing we discussed.”

His eyes are deep and full of yearning. He means we’ll get married. I’ll come back and we’ll get married. My shoulders relax and I nod.

“Okay,” I say.

He smiles and I’m filled with happiness when I realize it’s a real smile that touches his eyes.

“Good,” he says. “It’s a deal.”

“Will you stay here while I’m gone?” I’d like to think I’m coming back to him and our Lost Treasure in Romeo.

“I think I’ll be able to keep myself busy,” he says. He lets my hands go and nods his head toward the door. “You better head out.”

Before I turn to go, I reach over and give him a kiss goodbye.