Page 73 of Light in the Dark
"Yes, Ember." He touched his clammy forehead to mine. "Your love is your light. Don't let it go out. You're gonna hide. Run. Bury it. But you gotta…" a wheeze, a cough, a groan of pain. "Youhaveto love again. You won't want to, but you have to."
"I can't, Dutch. I can't. I can't do this without you."
"Have to."
"I won't."
He tried to laugh. "Not sure…I have time for a fight…or—or the strength for…for makeup…sex."
My laugh was a sob. "How can you joke, Dutchie?"
"How can I not?" He struggled to pull my hand to his lips. "Promise me."
"No—no."
"Emberly James. I've never asked you for a promise."
I wept bitterly, nodded. "Okay. Okay."
"Don't placate me. I want your vow—" he kissed my wedding band, and then moved his hand to my lips, "on our wedding rings."
"Damn you, Dutchie. I love you. I need you. I can't do this without you."
"No choice. And not…the point."
"Goddammit, Richard."
"Oh…shit. The real…name." He was weakening. Fading. "Vow. On our rings. You'll let yourself love again. You'll give him your light. You have to. The world needs your light. And out there somewhere is a man who will need the love you have to give. Swear it."
I shook my head. "Dutch."
"Swear it, goddammit!”
I stared at him, stunned by the ferocity in his gentle voice. "Dutchie—"
"Emberly. Please. I'm begging you." He’d looked at me with such desperation that I'd dissolved into helpless sobs.
"Okay, okay." I kissed his ring and then mine. "I swear to you on our rings that I'll…" I couldn't finish it. Swallowed hard. "That I will love again, someday."
He nodded. "The world needs your light.Heneeds it." His eyes closed. "Love you, Emmy."
"I love you, Dutchie-baby."
His grip on my hand weakened. His eyes opened. Saw me. He smiled.
For a moment, then, it seemed like he was seeing something else. His eyes brightened, and he smiled faintly.
And then…he was still, and his body was empty, and Dutchie was gone.
My husband was dead.
And he'd extracted a vow on our rings—which he knew damned well I held more sacred than any other possession—that I would love again.
Except I don't know how to keep that promise.
I fucking miss him.
It hurts.
