We walked to center stage where a tall white candle stood waiting, its wick already prepared.
I picked up the long match from the table beside it and struck it against the box, and the flame caught immediately and fought to stay alive.
Together, we leaned toward the unity candle where I touched the match to the wick, and Ember cupped her hand around mine to shield the flame from the evening breeze.
The candle lit with a soft whoosh, bringing a smile to Ember's face.
The way she looked up at me with a soft smile made my heart stir.
She was so beautiful.
How had I never noticed before this moment?
We turned to face them, and I began the first verse of the carol.
My voice felt rusty, unpracticed, but the crowd joined in after the first few lines.
Ember stood beside me, mouthing the words but not quite singing.
I could feel the tension radiating from her rigid posture.
When the carol ended, we descended from the stage and moved toward the rows of attendees.
Each person held an unlit candle, waiting for us to bring them the flame.
I lit the first candle from the unity flame, then passed it to a young boy who grinned up at me with missing front teeth.
Ember took the next candle and lit it from mine, then helped a woman in the second row.
We worked our way through the crowd as they continued to sing carols, and soon, everyone was sharing the light from row to row.
We reached the back of the crowd, and I spotted a gap between two vendor booths—a narrow space where the sides of the stalls had been pulled closed for the evening.
The shadows there were deep, offering privacy from the flickering candlelight and the watchful eyes of the community that continued to face the front where the coordinator and other volunteers were raising a wreath on stage.
I touched Ember's elbow and nodded toward the gap.
She hesitated with a frown on her face, then followed me into the narrow space between the booths.
The moment we were out of sight, I doused my flame and took her candle and doused it too, then pulled her against my body and leaned into the booth wall.
"What's going through your head?" I asked in a rushed tone.
She seemed put on the spot, fumbling for words, turning her head away from me. "What do you mean?"
"You've barely said two words to me all night. You didn't return my call. You show up here acting as though yesterday didn't happen." I braced one hand against the wall beside her head while the other firmly held her body against mine. "Talk to me."
I knew it could be seen as predatory, but something so desperate inside me needed her reassurance, some hint that it was as incredible for her as it was for me.
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"I want you to tell me what you're thinking."
She let out a shaky breath. "I'm thinking I'm insane." One hand snuck up between us and she bit down on a fingernail.
"For what?" I asked, pulling her hand away, brushing my thumb over her lip. God, I wanted to kiss her again.
"For being here. For not quitting." She met my gaze directly. "I thought about it… but then God, that sex was so incredible, Nathan." The way she said my name made my insides jiggle like Jell-O.
