Life In Reverse(64)

I look into my father’s eyes, uncertain if this is the first time he’s showing me, or the first time I’m aware of it. But the sadness and despair that drips from them makes guilt eat away at my chest until I can no longer breathe. My inability to consider what he might be going through—what this has meant for his life and the life he created with my mother. I’ve been a selfish * in more ways than one.

My thoughts roam to Ember. I picture her sitting there with that same expression, that same pain, and it crushes me. Because, although we’ve just begun, I know what I feel for her and what we could be together. Internally, I berate myself. To think that I actually let it get this far. That I thought… it was even a possibility. I’ve been fooling myself. And her, too. It’s not fair.

The realization makes the bottom drop out of my stomach and my world. My shoulders curl inward and I grab onto the wall for support. But I need to carry myself through this. I refuse to drag anyone else down with me—least of all Ember.

“I’m… sorry, Dad. I know it’s not enough. But I’m sorry… for everything.”

I turn to leave but my feet are like lead, making it difficult to climb the stairs. My body refuses to cooperate with what my brain knows it has to do. When I reach the top step, my father’s words stop me again. “I understand. And I don’t blame you, son. It’s not your fault.”

I only hope Ember feels the same.





I’VE BEEN STARING at myself in the full-length mirror since Avery left. The dress she let me borrow was beautiful, sexy even, but it wasn’t me. In the end, I peeled it off and opted for a pair of skinny jeans and a Mickey Mouse t-shirt.

Standing in front of the mirror now, I smile. The tee is snug and hugs my breasts. My hair is down in waves, lips stained with a soft pink gloss. Of course I’m wearing the black lace. This is my little bit of sexy while still being me. I’ve never felt I had to be anything else with Vance, anyway.

The doorbell rings and the grin I’ve been harboring all day, broadens. I bolt down the stairs, darting to the dining room to light the candles before exhaling a giant breath and opening the door. Flowers and a beautifully wrapped package are what I notice first, and my heart skips. But when my gaze climbs to Vance’s face, the grin slips away. His cheeks are pale, mouth pulled tight.

“What is it? Is it your Mom?” I ask, stepping back so he can come inside.

“No, Ember. It’s not.” Vance holds the roses out in front of me. “I wanted you to have these. They… reminded me of you. And this.” He shakes his head and puts the package down on the corner table, releasing a breath filled with too many things I can’t identify. I swallow down the nervous ache in my throat, attempt to ignore the little voice telling me something is very wrong, and wait for him to elaborate. He rubs the back of his neck and stares off to the side, eyes glued to a spot on the wall. “I… this… we… we can’t do this.”

“Vance, look at me.” I place the flowers on the coffee table. “What can’t we do?”

His desperate gaze flicks to mine. He points a finger back and forth between us. “This.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know,” he whispers, moving closer until he’s standing in front of me. “Because I haven’t been honest with you. God,” his palm finds my cheek as his eyes search mine, “you’re so beautiful.”

The devastation on his face is too much and tears well in my eyes. “Vance, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“You have the most genuine heart,” his voice softens, “and I refuse to break it.” He makes a noise in his throat, engulfing the silence. “There’s not much in this world I’m afraid of,” he admits. His eyes roam everywhere; my hair, my cheeks, my chin, my lips, as if he’s memorizing me. “But what scares the absolute hell out of me, is the thought of not being able to remember your smile. Or your beautiful, beautiful eyes. Or the way your heart calls to me on some level I don’t understand. I don’t think I could take losing that… losing you.”

“Vance,” I plead. “Please, you’re not making any sense.”

He backs away, tugging hard at his hair. A quiet rage rolls off of him. “I’m going to end up like them. It’s inevitable.”

“Like who?”

“Take your pick, really.” He paces the carpet, feet wearing a hole in the small space. “My grandmother, my uncle… my mother.” His motion halts and his eyes lock on mine, empty and lost. “It’s genetic, Ember, and there’s a very high chance I’m going to end up the same way. Julian, he got tested already, but I never did. And now… I don’t know if I can handle it.”

“I understand.” I step closer, needing to be near him. “You have to get tested, though, Vance. I’m su—”

“I already have symptoms.”

“Oh, Vance.” I don’t know anything about this disease but I do know something about fear. I recognize it in his slumped posture, the quiver of his chin, the utter defeat in his gaze. The chill running through my veins. Everything hits me at once and I move to wrap my arms around him like a shield, wanting to protect him from everything bad.

“I… had some tests done and they called to let me know I need to come in to discuss the results, but….” His arms settle around me and he squeezes so hard I can barely breathe. “I’m really scared.”