The tears finally subside, and I freshen up before Jase helps me get dressed. When he’s done tying my sash, I turn to face him as he looks me over. He smiles, and when his eyes meet mine, he says, “You look amazing, sweetheart.”
“Thank you . . . for everything you’ve ever been for me.”
“It’s just the beginning,” he says as he takes my hand. “You ready?”
“Just one more thing.” I walk over to the dresser and pick up the necklace that Ryan gave me. “Can you clasp this for me?”
I know it doesn’t go with the dress, but I wear it every day, and today is no different. So when Jase puts it on me, I know I’m ready.
“Let’s go,” I say.
Jase helps me into his car and drives to Ecola Park, through the winding streets until we get to Indian Beach. He parks the car, overlooking the beach down below where I see the pastor, Donna, Mark, Tori, and Ryan. I smile when I see him down there, wearing black slacks and a dark charcoal button-up shirt.
“No tux?” Jase says from the driver’s seat.
“I told him they were cheesy.” Taking his ring that I have been clutching in my hand, I give it to Jase to hold.
Keeping my eyes fixed on the people who mean the world to me standing below, I hear Jase as he reads the inscription, “I see you in colors that don’t exist.”
I’ve never been so sure of my life until now, and all I want is to feel his touch, so when I turn to Jase, I say, “Will you take me to him?”
He gets out of the car and walks over to my side, opening my door. I take his hand as he helps me out, and when I smooth down the lace, he says, “Grab the umbrella.”
“No umbrella.”
“You’re gonna ruin this dress, you know?”
“I know.”
Taking my hand, I lock my fingers with my best friend’s as he starts walking me over to the wooden steps that lead down to the beach. A thick blanket of grey covers the sky as the heavy mist falls from above. The sound of crashing waves fills the air, and when Jase gives my hand a squeeze, he begins walking me down the first flight of stairs. When we hit the landing before taking the last set of steps to the beach, Ryan turns to see me.
My eyes hit her when I spot her on the stairs. God, she looks incredible, wearing nothing but lace with her hair down. She’s clutched to Jase, and I know she’s got to be freezing in this rain, but she’s never looked more beautiful.
When Jase starts leading her down, she keeps her eyes locked on me, and I can already see the tears running down her cold, pink cheeks. My heart begins to race at the mere sight of her, and I feel like the luckiest man. Everything about her is everything I dream about now.
She walks across the dense sand, rain puddles everywhere, but she doesn’t care. She walks right through them, dragging her dress through the water and sand. Before I can touch her, she turns to Jase and gives him a hug and kiss. When he gives her over to me, I run my hands down her soft, damp arms as she smiles through her tears. Pulling her into my arms, I take a moment and hold on to her, needing the closeness. I breathe her in, and when the pastor begins to speak, I keep my arms around her, giving her my warmth. We stand, wrapped up in each other, and no one else exists right now—only her.
We make our vows to each other, and when I take the ring from Tori, Candace keeps her eyes fixed on the vintage ring I found for her. When I saw the aged pearl, I knew it was perfect, and I love what it stands for because she’s the purest thing in my life. The pearl is set on a weathered gold band with a stamped filigree pattern. It’s simple, delicate, and when I slide it on her tiny finger, it couldn’t be more perfect.
We may not have a fairytale meeting, and we may not always have sunshine and roses, but what we do have is a raw love that is honest and true. And when the pastor declares her as my wife, I take my sweet time kissing her cold, rain-covered lips, tasting a life that is so much more promising now that she’s in it with me.
Wanting to get my girl warmed up, we say our goodbyes to everyone, and I take her up to my car. But before I open her door, I band my arms around her, and really kiss her. Moving my lips with hers as I run my hands down the smooth skin of her exposed back. And when I finally drag my lips away, I look down at her and ask, “Now what?”
“Let’s go home.”
Helping her up into the car, I tuck in the bottom of her lace dress, which is now soaked with rain and dirt. I grab her a blanket from the back seat and wrap it around her before I get in and start driving us back to Seattle. She holds my hand the entire way, and when we finally make it back to the loft, I carry her up the stairs and inside.
When I get her upstairs, we stand in the center of the room as I cradle her cheeks in my hands, saying, “You will never have to doubt your place in this world again because I swear I will spend forever making sure you’re right where you belong.”
I watch her eyes rim with tears while I run my hands down her neck and underneath the lace on her shoulders as I slowly begin peeling off her wedding dress.
I never knew that a person could be capable of falling as hard as I have for Candace. I spent so many years fearing the fall, but she made it effortless, taking all my fears away. With her, I know I’ll never get enough. I’m always gonna want more, and as I make love to my wife, I know I’m gonna spend the rest of my life falling.
As I wait for the curtain to draw up, I turn to Jase and watch as he and Mark keep their daughter, Caroline, busy by showing the program to her, reading off the various performance titles. This is her first time at the theater, and I’m surprised with how well-behaved she’s being.
Jase and Mark ended up getting married a few years after Candace and I. When they adopted Caroline, simply having Candace and I be her aunt and uncle wasn’t enough, so Jase and Mark asked us to be her godparents. She’s always been a huge part of our lives, and to see that she is fast approaching her fifth birthday is a test to how fast the years have flown by.
Candace has managed to have a successful career, quickly becoming a soloist at Pacific Northwest Ballet during her second year, and moving to principal her fifth. She’s loved every minute of it, and getting to watch my girl dance the lead in so many shows has been amazing.
Shortly after we got married, I took her to New York to attend a performance by the American Ballet Theatre, the company she turned down to stay in Seattle. I wanted to remind her that we could still make New York happen, but she was firm on staying with PNB. I never questioned her decision to stay, but I know a piece of her has always been scared to leave everything behind.
Security has consistently been something she has craved, and Seattle offers her that. Having her friends and family close was also important while she was in therapy and trying to recover from her attack. She continued with therapy for a few years, but through it all, and after twelve years since the attack, she’s never gotten over holding herself responsible for that night. It’s not something I believe will ever change, so I’ve simply accepted it and no longer try to convince her that she should feel differently.
A few months after we married, nearly two years since the rape, she finally came off of her sleeping pill. It was a rough transition, but the doctor insisted. She had nightmares for a while, but I feel it was her anxiety that was triggering it. Eventually the nightmares lessened, and then the night terrors lessened. She still has nightmares, but those only happen a few times a year, and they aren’t nearly as bad as they used to be.
Aside from a few lingering effects of that night, she’s blossomed into a beautiful woman, and I’ve been lucky enough to watch it firsthand. She’s a lot more spunky than I would have imagined from when I first met her. Her laugh is infectious, and she has brightened every aspect of my life.
I wound up selling a percentage of Blur to Max, making him a partner. We remain close friends, but my main business now is my art. When my photos started being picked up by galleries in different states, my commissioned work really took off, but the majority of my income comes from gallery s
ales.
Candace and I have transitioned through the years with ease. She remains the love of my life, and I spend every day making sure she never forgets it. I’ll never be able to thank her enough for giving me this life.
When the lights dim, and the curtain goes up, Caroline is excited as she watches the dancers on stage. I have to wait a few numbers until I get to see my girl. When the music cues, she lights up, sending chills up my neck. She moves across the stage with her beautiful smile, enjoying every second. I can’t take my eyes off of her even though there are other dancers on the stage. She captivates me, and I’m stuck on her.
She’s the greatest gift in my life. I never thought I could love the way I love her. The music comes to an end all too soon. I could watch her on that stage forever. When she takes her curtsey, she beams at the applause. After the curtain falls, I just can’t wait to see her, so I quietly tell Jase, “I’m gonna run backstage.”
Making my way out of the theater, I head back to the hall where all the dressing rooms are, and when I spot her, she smiles as she rushes towards me. I hold my arms out for her and catch a glimpse of Candace off to my side as she smiles proudly before my girl bounds into my arms, squealing with joy, “Daddy!”
I See You In Colors
I am pretending you did not exist.
Ink nightly washes black
over my consciousness
and abandons me as morning seaweed
upon a foreign beach.
I am pretending we were simply
the sparkling imagination of some higher being,
our life together set below a singular epic sky
unrepeated
in future histories.
I am pretending I cannot taste you
each day as I do the sea air in my breath
when I am running,
my heart tied upon one foot,
ancient melancholy tied upon the other,
anxiously racing,
madly racing through lifetimes,
to find our brightened souls.
I see you in colors that don’t exist.
It is all that I see clearly.
and why I run.
—P. Matsumoto
1 in every 4 women will experience domestic violence in her lifetime. 30% to 60% of perpetrators of intimate partner violence also abuse children in the household. Boys who witness domestic violence are twice as likely to abuse their own partners and children when they become adults. Only approximately 1/4 of all physical assaults and 1/5 of all rapes are reported to the police.
Candace and Ryan’s story is simply one of example of how so many people live. Although both of them hid what they had suffered through, you don’t have to.
National Domestic Violence Hotline
1.800.799.SAFE
Visit www.ncadv.org to find more information and resources.
National Sexual Assault Hotline
1.800.656.HOPE
Visit www.rainn.org for more information and resources.
As this series comes to a close, I am taken back to the night I finally swallowed my doubts about writing a book, remembering the moment I turned to my husband and said, “I’m gonna do it.” He’s the one that, out of the blue, said I should write a book, and it took him time to finally convince me, but eventually he did. No amount of ‘thank you’s’ will ever be enough. I’m not even sure he realizes this gift he’s given me.
And so I start with him.
Thank you to my husband, who, through it all, has always seen the light within me. Seen the potential that lies beneath. Seen everything I’m not able to. Always believing and sacrificing to make sure I can act upon every opportunity that comes my way. It’s been a crazy year while I have been writing this series, and watching you take control of everything to allow me the time to write these stories has proven to me how lucky I truly am to have you by my side. And just as Candace views Ryan, I also see you in colors that don’t exist, because what we have together is a rarity. Don’t doubt for one second that I don’t see everything you have ever given me. I do.
Gina, what can I say? You have been my partner through it all. Being able to share this journey with you has been amazing. The time you have sacrificed for me is something that I can’t thank you enough for. You’ve been there from the beginning to the end, and I love you for loving Candace and Ryan as much as I do. For believing in their story and believing in me. For all the late night phone calls and texting. Encouraging me when I felt defeated. Guiding me to the end with your constant support. These books would not be what they are if it weren’t for you.
And to Lisa, my amazing editor and friend, you constantly push me to make my writing better. You are the queen of cuts, and with each book I resist you less and less. I love that we have been able to share this whole experience together. That you were always a part of it and in the passenger seat with me. It’s an amazing thing when you can share the discovery of a dream and passion with a friend. You were by my side when I felt so lost in life a couple years ago, and I love that you were by my side as I dug myself out and found this hidden talent. You’re a unfailing support, and I hope to create more and more wonderful stories with you!
Now my family. To my father and step-mother, having the two of you tell me how proud you are of me means more to me than you will ever know. It’s something that every child craves from a parent, and something that you have always given me. I’m one lucky girl to have such amazing parents. Cathy, to have you so invested in my writing is so much fun for me. Being able to sit around with you to plot and bounce ideas off of is the best. Thank you for your enthusiasm and unwavering support. Kelley and Traci, my sisters, thank your for taking the time to read my stories and for all of your encouraging words! And to my brothers, Josh and Quentin, thank you for not reading my books because I just don’t know how I feel about you reading my intimate scenes. Josh, you have been a great support even if you don’t know it. I love that you can be someone I can discuss my writing with and that you offer ways to strengthen my stories. Thank you for showing me around Seattle and Oregon and for being the one who took me to a place I never knew existed—Cannon Beach. You changed the direction of this story from the very moment I set foot onto Indian Beach. It might not be that significant of a moment for you, but it was for me and for my characters.
I want to thank all of my betas for putting in the hours to read and critique my manuscript. You guys do it all, from encouraging me when I get stressed to helping me promote. Your honesty and support has become something I have depended on through writing this series, and I am blessed to have had such an amazing group of women be on board with me.
Last but not least, to Candace, Ryan, Jase, and Mark, I know you aren’t real, but it feels like you are to me. It’s been an amazing journey getting to know you all. To live inside each of you for the time I was able to affected me in a way I never thought was possible. To learn and grow with each of you has been a true gift. I have spent the past year with the four of you, and it’s sad to say goodbye to your stories, but I thank you for giving them to me, because no matter how anyone else feels about these books, for me, you have given me the stories I have always wanted to read but could never find—until now.
FADING (book #1)
Purchase your copy from Amazon
“Heart-wrenching, jaw-dropping, and absolutely beautiful. If you enjoy not only reading but feeling a great story, don’t miss this intense tale of love and healing!”
—Aleatha Romig, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author
“E.K. Blair has upped the standards of indie writing forever. This author is an artist. One of the most incredible, breathtaking stories I have ever read.”
—Word
FREEING (book #2)
Purchase your copy from Amazon
“Another amazingly beautiful, heart-wrenching, yet heart-warming story. Like Fading, Freeing is brilliantly written and once again, it is so easy to get lost in the pages of this story.”
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—Book Crush Reviews
“A book that’s packed with an intensity that is rare to find in today’s New Adult Genre. Blair’s writing is phenomenal, and the tears her words induced were not like any other’s.”
—GMB Reviews
e. k. blair
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www.ekblair.com
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E. K. Blair, Falling (Fading Series)
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