Page 100 of Ashes of the Past
I shake my head, waving him off. “I’ve got it, really.”
But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he grabs a dish towel and starts drying the plates I just washed. I sigh, a little irritation bubbling up because I wanted to be alone.
Well, I thought I wanted to be alone. Why do I feel so relieved that he’s helping me?
We move around each other with an easy rhythm, like we’ve done this a hundred times before. It’s effortless the way we work together. I catch myself smiling and feeling relaxed, the overwhelm and anxiety slowly dissipating just by him being in the same room with me, helping.
When the last dish is put away, he turns to me, his hands still damp from drying. Without hesitation, he pulls me into his arms and presses a tender kiss to my lips. It’s soft at first, patient like he’s giving me the space to pull away if I want to. But I don’t.
His lips part from mine just enough for him to ask, “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” I answer quickly, looking away just as fast.
He pulls back, his eyes locking onto mine with unwavering intensity. “Brynn.”
I swallow hard, my heart hammering. I fidget, trying to pull out of his grip. I can’t think straight when I’m this close to him.
“I said I’m fine.”
He shakes his head, his thumb tracing along my cheek. “You’re a bad liar, you know that?” His voice is low, warm, and full of concern. And I feel myself relax a bit more. “You don’t need to sugarcoat things for me. I want the truth so I can help make it better.”
I look away, trying to step back again, but he won’t let me. His hands are firm yet gentle, holding me steady. “You’re strong,” he continues. “So damn resilient. The way you’ve takencare of everything, how patient you’ve been with your dad… I know it hasn’t been easy to see him like that.”
I let out a shaky breath, blinking hard against the sting of tears. “It’s just another day.”
“Brynn.” His voice is softer now, and all my defenses are slowly crumbling. “You don’t have to be the strong one all the time. I won’t think any less of you if you lean on me.”
I stare at him, caught between disbelief and the deep, aching desire to trust him. He sees me struggling, sees the way my emotions are threatening to break free, and he does the only thing he can—he kisses me again.
This time, it’s different. There’s heat, urgency, a silent plea for me to let go. And for once, I do. I melt against him.
The tension I’ve been carrying for weeks, months—maybe even years—unravels like a frayed rope finally snapping. My fingers dig into the muscles of his back, holding on like he’s the only thing keeping me from combusting.
My heart pounds against my ribs, a desperate rhythm that matches the unspoken emotions crashing over me. I don’t know what to do with them all—the fear, the exhaustion, the weight of holding everything together. But in his arms, for just a second, I don’t have to.
His lips press against mine, firm yet searching, and it’s like he’s trying to pull the truth from me without words. He already sees it and feels it in the way my body trembles against his.
I want to trust this. I want to trust him.
But the moment I start to let go, Barney’s barking shatters the quiet. A vicious, warning growl that sends ice straight through my veins.
Then Olivia’s voice slices through the night.
“Uncle Lane? What are you doing? Why are you here?”
Her voice is loud enough for me to hear, but it’s timid and full of fear.
Every part of me snaps back into place like a whip cracking in the cold.
“Jack,” I choke out, already moving. “Call 9-1-1.”
And then I sprint out the door. The porch lights flood the yard in a dull glow. Olivia stands rigid, her arms wrapped around herself. Lane is a few feet away, yelling at Barney.
“Barney, no! Come here, boy!” she calls out. “Just stay still, Uncle Lane. He’s just protecting me.”
“This mutt,” he hisses as he lifts his foot and kicks Barney hard in the ribs.
“No!” Olivia and I both cry out at the same time.
