For Better or Hearse

Chapter Forty-Three

A sh wakes to the scream of her CGM alarm. Blearily, she reaches for her phone, sandwiched between her right hip and the couch cushion. After checking the reading, she silences it.

It takes all her effort to drag herself to the kitchen for a glass of juice. At five a.m., and after yesterday, her blood’s the last thing she cares about. Even if Nathaniel’s stern voice sounds in her head, telling her to take care of herself.

She stands at the sink. Numbly, she drinks her juice. Augustus’s house is a cavernous type of quiet. The silence is matched only by the rush of blood in her ears. The glow outside, the rising sun, feels like a taunt. A new beginning, a new morning, but does it matter?

All the Whitfords—with the exception of Augustus—are at the hospital waiting for word on Nathaniel. It kills her to not be there, but Delaney’s promised to send updates. Ash’s duty is to Augustus. Nathaniel would understand. He’d want her here.

Her heart balloons when her phone rings. The hospital?

Then slowly deflates.

It’s Tessie.

Ash picks the FaceTime call up quickly, not wanting to wake Augustus.

“How are you doing?” her cousin asks. She sits in bed, Solomon beside her. Sympathy lines both of their faces.

“Hanging on by a thread,” Ash says morosely, propping her phone up on the counter.

“Still no word?”

“No.”

“I’m so sorry, Ash. ”

She shakes her head. Tears well in her eyes. “How are you?” she asks, needing a distraction from her agony. “Still on bed rest?”

“Two more days.” By the force of his growl, it’s clear Solomon is not happy about that.

Bear, cradled in Tessie’s arms, lets out a tiny wail.

Her lip quivers. “Same here, kid.”

“It sucks.” Tessie’s voice cracks.

“Fucking sucks. I keep thinking, what if? Lasts. I know I deal in those…but right now, all I want is love. I just want Nathaniel.”

Tears spill from Ash, cascade down her cheeks. She can’t stop them. She’s a rose bush that’s been overplucked and de-thorned. She might still go on, but she’ll never be herself.

“I told him my name, you know,” she whispers between shaky, gasping breaths.

Tears fill Tessie’s eyes. “You did?”

“I did. And he didn’t laugh.”

“Oh, wow.” Now Tessie’s voice is wobbly. “He’s a keeper.”

Ash wipes her cheeks with the pads of her fingers. Even now, the thought of never hearing her full name from Nathaniel’s mouth again has her wanting to fall apart.

“I know.” Fanning her face, she says, “I don’t know how to do this, Tessie. This love thing anymore. Maybe I never did.”

“You do,” Tessie disagrees gently. “You so do, Ash.”

She shakes her head, feeling broken.

The bed shifts as Solomon tucks Tessie’s body against his. He gives Ash a kind smile, but then his adoring gaze returns to his wife.

“Grief and love coexist,” he says, resting his massive hand on Tessie’s belly. His rugged face creases with pain. “You can’t have one without the other. You have to take the good with the bad. And when you do, you’ll find the bad doesn’t matter as much as the good.”

Ash’s chest constricts at his words, making it hard to breathe.

Solomon’s right .

Life doesn’t give us what we expect. And in all those moments, we find joy, terror, and ourselves. She found Nathaniel.

He gave her something she hasn’t had in a long time. Trust in a man. Trust in herself.

He’s seen her. Maybe more than anyone.

No matter what happens, she will always have that to hold on to.

“Okay, I’m done being a crybaby.” Ash sniffs and exhales a shaky breath. “Tell me some good news. Because I need it.”

Solomon looks at Tessie, and Tessie looks at him.

“We finally picked a name.” Tessie touches her bump. Her brown eyes shine with tears. “Willow.”

“Oh, Tessie. I fucking love it.” She looks at her best friend’s belly. That little life. That little baby she will love with her entire soul. “Willow.”

Tessie’s smiling and Solomon’s smiling and Ash’s heart is a great balloon in her chest. Nothing is right. But for one long second, it all feels like it will be okay.

Ash wakes to the sound of the front door opening.

Heart thudding, she rockets up on the couch, smearing her palms across her bleary eyes. She shakes her head to rid herself of the fog of sleep. Reality, her surroundings come back into focus. Footsteps. Down the hall.

Wait.

Shouldn’t all the Whitfords be at the hospital?

The footsteps get closer, and then a broad-shouldered form stands in the parlor.

Ash looks up. And up.

An unholy strangled sob leaves her throat.

Nathaniel.

“Ash,” he says softly .

For one long second, she’s sure he’s a mirage. A hallucination caused by lack of sleep. Even though her heart, her brain, the two best annoying parts of her, scream otherwise.

He’s here. In front of her. Whole. Alive.

Ash cries out. And then she launches herself up and covers the distance between them.

He catches her in his arms. Instantly, a sense of calm, of rightness, washes over her.

He glues her body to his like he’ll never let go. “Ash,” he breathes into her neck like a mantra. “Ashabelle.” He’s shaking. They both are.

She burrows into him, presses her face to his chest, absorbing his heartbeat. “Oh my god,” she gasps. “You’re alive.”

Nathaniel collapses to his knees, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his face against her stomach.

“You’re hurt,” she says, alarmed. Her hands, unsure of where to go, hover urgently over him. “You need to go to the hos—”

“No.” A miserable sound wrenches out of him. He shakes his head over and over again. “Let me hold you. I just need to hold you.”

The scent, the sight of him hit straight to her heart like a flood.

He’s here. He’s here.

“I’ve got you,” Ash whispers. “I’ve got you.” Trembling, she runs her nails through his damp hair. She doesn’t have any bones left in her legs.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he rasps, hands tracing over the curve of her back. “You’re all I thought of, Ashabelle. Getting home to you. I had to make it home.”

Home.

Ash feels the tears rise. And then she’s crying, nodding, wrapping her hands tight around those broad shoulders to stay standing. “You’re here,” she sobs. “You’re here.” She doesn’t believe it. This beautiful second chance. A do-over of the highest order.

Gripping her hips tightly, Nathaniel pushes to standing. “Don’t cry,” he says, cradling her face in his hands. He whisks his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away her tears. “Don’t cry, my morbid little beauty.”

“I thought you were dead, you asshole,” she hisses, voice shaking with emotion. “I’ll cry if I want to.”

“I told you. That honor is yours alone.”

She sob-laughs and pulls back, taking him in. His face is haggard and his hair disheveled. His scrubs dirty and water-logged.

“What happened? How are you here?”

His face sobers. “When the rig was hit, I was thrown overboard. I stayed adrift on a piece of wreckage for a few hours until I was picked up by a fishing boat near Catalina.”

She lets out a watery sob. “So you’re telling me it was a pirate rescue?”

With an exhaled laugh, he grips her waist with one hand. “When I got back to land, I came straight here.” He bows his head. “All I kept thinking about was you. How I couldn’t leave this world without seeing you one last time.”

Tears roll down her cheeks. Ash shakes her head. Her fists make a home in the hem of Nathaniel’s scrubs, yanking him closer. “I was so worried. The way we left things…” She gulps air, swallows her tears. “I’m so sorry, Nathaniel. For freaking out. For pushing you away.”

He kisses her hard, passionately. “Never apologize for that. There’s nothing to forgive.”

A thousand explosions happen in her heart. His trust in her, his love nearly make her knees give out.

“I don’t doubt us.” She exhales raggedly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “I choose you, Nathaniel. In every universe, in every afterlife, I will always choose you. I love you.”

“Fuck,” he rasps. His eyes shutter like her very words have carved him up. “I love you. I am so fucking in love with you, Ashabelle.”

With tremulous hands, they trace each other’s features—lips, cheeks, jaw—in wonder, as if they’ve been split apart by time, long lost. Like they’re memorizing each other in case. So close, so needy, a crowbar couldn’t pry them apart.

Whimpering, Ash tightens her hold on him, refusing to let him go. She can’t get any softer. She can’t love him enough.

In the span of two weeks, they got to know each other’s strengths and scars, fears and weaknesses. With each piece of herself she showed him, Nathaniel never once shied away.

Love isn’t about fixing yourself so that someone loves you. It’s about finding the right person to love you as you are.

She will never have to be less with Nathaniel. She is fine the way she is.

Ash. Just Ash.

Fiercely, she kisses him. When she pulls back, she grips him by the throat. “Never do that to me again. I thought I lost you.”

“Never,” he rasps against her lips. “You will never lose me.” He laces his hands beneath her lower back. Tugs her closer. “I’m in this no matter what it takes. The long run.”

“For better or hearse?” she teases.

“For better or hearse.” The corner of his mouth curves. “We’re going to do this, do us, and we’re going to do this good, okay?”

She’s nodding, nodding yes , nodding her happy.

“You just have to know one thing. The rest we can work on as we go.”

She clings to him. “What is it?”

“I will give it all to you, Ash, but you have to fucking let me.”

A smile blooms across her lips. “I will,” she says simply, staring into his handsome face.

One lifetime won’t be long enough to love Nathaniel with all she is capable of.

Somewhere in the house, the crack of a door.

Air bursts out of her in a silent scream as reality hits her. “Oh my god, Nathaniel. Augustus. Your parents. Everyone thinks you’re dead. We have to—”

He snags her hand before she can bolt for the door. “Hold on. I want to give you something first.” With that, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black velvet box. Damp from water, a little worse for wear, but there’s no mistaking it contains jewelry.

Ash gapes at him. Opens her mouth. But nothing comes out. When she closes it again, tears mist her eyes. “What—Nathaniel…”

“I wanted to give this to you the night I left,” he says hoarsely, hands shaking. “I may or may not have carried this with me for the last two weeks.”

She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry or scream bloody murder. She wants this, but…

It’s too early. Too soon.

And yet, she’d still say yes.

In every universe, yes.

He stares at her, amused. Reverent. “I’m going to open the box, Bigfoot.”

“Okay,” she whispers, clasping her hands at her chest. Ready or not, here it comes.

Brows furrowed, his attention exquisite and stern, he does.

“Oh my god.”

She inspects the box, what’s inside, for a long time. Eyes too hot, throat too tight. And yet love fills her.

Pearl earrings. But not just any pearl earrings.

Her teary gaze lifts. Nathaniel watches her anxiously.

She gives a watery laugh. “They’re black,” she says, awed.

Gorgeous pearlescent black pearls. Pearls that scream Ash . That will always remind her of who she actually is.

He leans down, finding her mouth, and whispers against her lips. “Just like your pretty little soul.”

She kisses him then. Kisses him like there’s no tomorrow, like the universe is smirking down at her in that I told you so way. And she’ll accept it. No more fighting it. She drags Nathaniel closer, her tongue smoking over his. In response, he digs his fingers into her hips, shifting her until they’re flush, until all she can feel are his tall bones and brooding muscles .

When they pull apart, she doesn’t release him. She can’t let him go. “I’ll wear the fuck out of them.”

“Good.” He considers her, his expression growing serious. His voice is choked, damp. “They’ll have to tide you over until I buy a ring.”

She nods. “Yes.”

This time, there’s no ache, no fear in her chest. It’s a light, brilliant and blooming. It’s not a sigh, it’s an exhale. Letting go, letting it out.

Time doesn’t wait.

And neither will they.