chapter 19 - "The flashback"
632 Words
My mouth opened—then closed. What could I even say?
He had done it again.
Pulled the ground from under my feet… or should I say, the snow from beneath my boots.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I whispered, not able to meet his eyes.
“And yet, you’re still here,” Ryder said softly, stepping closer. “You could’ve run… but you came to my room instead.”
“I didn’t come for you, I came for network!” I snapped, folding my arms. “You’re—ugh—you’re such a—”
“Such a what?” he smirked. “A man who’s madly in love?”
I froze.
His words hung in the cold air, heavier than the snowfall outside.
He took another step. “Ashlyn, do you know what it felt like, seeing you cry? Seeing you leave... like I didn’t matter?”
I looked away. “I didn’t remember… anything. Not who you were… not what we were... Ryder, it was like a part of me died.”
“And I waited… every day... for that part of you to return,” he said, gently touching my arm.
I wanted to push his hand away, but my body didn’t move.
Instead, my heart stuttered.
Outside, the snow picked up speed, gusts thudding against the windows, as if nature itself was syncing with our storm.
Blackout.
The lights flickered once again.
Then—darkness.
My breath hitched.
The silence inside was sudden and deafening. Only our breathing and the crackle of wind outside.
Ryder moved without a word.
He walked to the dresser, pulled out a candle, and lit it with a match he found tucked beside the wine bottle. The flame cast shadows across the room.
He looked like a memory. A beautiful, painful, precious memory.
He walked back to me. “Come. Before you catch a cold.”
“I’m not a child—”
Before I could finish, he scooped me into his arms.
Every. Damn. Time.
“Put me down—Ryder!”
“No.”
He gently laid me on the bed, pulled the thickest blanket around us, and slipped in beside me like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“I hate you,” I mumbled.
He laughed softly. “No, you don’t.”
I faced away from him. The warmth of his body seeped through the blanket, and I wanted to be cold. I wanted to stay angry.
But then—
His hand gently slid around my waist.
A familiar pressure.
A trigger.
Flash.
Suddenly, a memory rushed through my brain.
Me—laughing. Him—hugging me from behind. A kitchen. A winter day. Me wearing his hoodie. And that same arm—around my waist.
Another flash.
The accident.
The rain. My scream.
His voice—“Ash, stay with me!”
I gasped. My hand flew to my mouth.
“I remember... I remember everything.”
He didn’t speak. But I felt his heartbeat quicken.
“Ryder… why didn’t you tell me before?” I whispered.
“Because I didn’t want to force you into memories you didn’t want to relive. I didn’t want to be your pain.”
“You weren’t.”
I turned to face him.
“You were the only real thing left.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. “I lost you once… and it broke something inside me. I don’t want to lose you again.”
Ryder leaned closer, eyes burning into mine. “Then don’t.”
And he kissed me.
Not like a first kiss, not like a stolen one.
It was something deeper.
A kiss of returning.
Of remembering.
Of home.
The wind howled outside.
But in here… the storm had passed.
- Writer
