Page 50 of Hearts & Embers

The words became easier once they started.

"I keep remembering the hospital and waiting outside surgery. Then I remember Rachel and everything you told me about what happened to her. Reasonable, I know your situations aren't the same, but my brain doesn't seem interested in being reasonable."

Jasper leaned forward slightly.

"They aren't the same."

"That's the frustrating part. I know but don’t seem to accept it."

The conversation continued for almost an hour. Neither of us raised our voices. Neither of us became angry. The difficulty came from the fact that neither of us possessed an answer capable of fixing the problem. Jasper understood why I worried. I understood why he couldn't promise absolute safety. Every explanation eventually returned us to the same place.

"I love my job."

The admission arrived quietly.

"If I walked away from it, I'd resent that decision for the rest of my life."

I lowered my gaze.

"I know you would and I don't want you to walk away."

Jasper remained silent.

"But I don't know how to stop being afraid either and I can’t live with the fear something is going to happen."

The honesty seemed to age both of us slightly.

Eventually Jasper stood and moved toward the window. I watched him stare outside for several moments before turning back toward me. The sadness in his expression proved difficult to ignore because it mirrored exactly how I felt.

"Maybe we need some time."

The suggestion settled heavily between us.

Not forever.

Not a breakup.

Simply space.

Space to think.

Space to decide whether love could outweigh fear.

I hated the idea immediately.

Unfortunately, I couldn't dismiss it.

"Maybe."

The agreement hurt more than I expected.

Jasper crossed the room and sat beside me again. He kissed me softly before resting his forehead briefly against mine. Neither of us seemed interested in pretending the decision felt reasonable or fair. Sometimes two people could love each other completely and still struggle with realities neither had created.

After he left, with no promise of if or when we’d speak again, the apartment felt strangely empty.

The following days proved even worse. I went to work, taught classes, attended meetings, and completed all the responsibilities that normally occupied my attention. The problem was that every routine eventually reminded me of Jasper. Books reminded me of our meeting at the bookstore. Coffee reminded me of our first real conversation at the café. Even the drive home each afternoon created memories because so much of the previous several months had included Jasper somewhere within them.

By Wednesday evening, I realised I missed him constantly but the admission didn't solve anything. If anything, it complicated matters further. Missing someone didn't automatically make concerns disappear. Loving somebody didn't magically remove risk from their life. The questions that had started after seeing the burn remained unanswered. Unfortunately, so did the questions created by his absence.