Page 38 of Embers

We unpack all the food and supplies we found, take care of the chickens, and get everything back into order.

Cal doesn’t speak at all.

Eventually it’s too much for me. I’ve been organizing the stuff in our cabinets to make room for the new canned goods we scavenged, and he comes back into the cabin with more water from the well.

As soon as he sets the container down, I snap.

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about!” The words burst out of me without thought or intention.

Cal grows still. He turns toward me very slowly. “I think she does.”

“No, she doesn’t. She was making assumptions based on her experiences with other men. And other women. And I’m sure she’s right about a lot of relationships. But not us. She has no idea who we are or what we have together. She’s wrong.”

He takes an intentional breath. I see it in the way his shoulders rise and fall. “I am taking advantage—”

“You are not taking advantage of me! Don’t you dare say that!” I’m angry and more than that. Desperate. So I’m not in control of my emotions. My cheeks are blazing hot, and my hands are fisted at my sides.

“I’m at least taking advantage of the situation. You’d never want me to touch you—you’d never even want me around—if you weren’t stuck with me because the world went to shit. You know that’s true.”

I swallow hard, trying to treat his objections fairly even though I want to swat them away like pesky flies. “Maybe. But we don’t know that for sure. People grow and change as they get older, and they end up drawn to different people as they do. It doesn’t take an apocalypse to change someone’s heart.”

He winces slightly, as if the words hurt him in a way I never intended.

“Cal, please.” I have no shame here. I’m willing to openly beg if that’s what it takes for him to see reason. “You didn’t want me either until we got stuck together. But now you do. We want each other, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

He’s quiet for a minute. Breathing raggedly. The muscles in his jaw and his upper arms ripple slightly as if he keeps tensing up. “There’s a difference.”

“What’s the difference?”

“The difference is that if you weren’t too young, I’d’ve wanted to fuck you back then too! I had to stop myself from thinkin’ of you that way ’cause you’ve always been the hottest, prettiest girl I’ve ever known. The best, sweetest thing to ever happen to me. My views on you haven’t changed! I’d’ve always wanted you—apocalypse or no. I’m that kind of selfish, dirty asshole. Wantin’ to fuck my own son’s girl!”

Deep emotion shudders through me, blurring my eyes, clamping down in my chest. I raise a hand to cover my mouth. “Cal.”

“That’s who I am! It’s who I’ve always been.” His features twist, and he rubs at his beard, ruffling the coarse hairs. “And, baby, you deserve so much better than that. You deserve so much better than me.”

“Fuck that!” I take a step over and grab for his sweaty shirt. I clutch at it, wishing I could shake him with the grip. “I don’t want better than that. I don’t want anything but exactly who you are. Why can’t you understand that, Cal? I don’t want some hypothetical nice boy who’s never done anything wrong. I only want you. And think about what you’re doing to me when you refuse to let me want what I want.”

He stands stiffly, just a few inches away from me. His eyes look almost black in the afternoon light streaming in through the windows.

I’m panting audibly. So is he. Eventually I loosen my fingers from the grip on his shirt and smooth down the wrinkles I made. I’m suddenly sure that if I push too far right now, I’ll lose him completely. And I’m not going to make that mistake. “Maybe just think about it. Please? We’ve been doing so good. We’ve been…”

Happy.

We’ve been happy.

Both of us. He has as much as me.

I know it for sure.

“I’ll think about it,” he mumbles, stepping back from me at last. He glances down at the floor.

For just a moment, he looks broken. Such a strong, competent man. Broken.

I can’t let it go unanswered. Not when everything inside me rises up in defense against anything that might hurt him. So I step forward and pull him into a hug.

He’s stiff, unyielding for about ten seconds. Then he lets out a guttural sigh and wraps his arms around me too.

We hug for a long time. No words. No pressure. Just our bodies hanging on to each other. Until he finally lets me go.

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