Page 68 of Chasing Smoke

Ansel squeezes me tightly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Collins.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. The floor caving in was not your fault. It’s one of the risks of the job. You are not to blame, you hear me?” When he doesn’t say anything, I pull back to meet his gaze. “You are not to blame, understand?”

He nods, but it’s clear to me that it’s a halfhearted effort.

“Do you want to know what would really upset me? If you went through the rest of your life bearing the weight of the responsibility for Caleb’s death unnecessarily.”

He stares off into the distance.

“Do you remember when you told me that Caleb wouldn’t want me to live that way?” I put my finger on his chin and turn his face to mine. “He would tell you the same thing. He wouldn’t want you feeling responsible for his death. He would never want that for you. I may be about to discover a side I didn’t know, but I know that for sure. He loved you and Fowler like brothers. He would hate to see you tormenting yourself this way.”

His shoulders sag, and there’s a flash of relief across his face. He knows I’m right.

Ansel pulls me in for another hug, and we stay in the embrace, just breathing each other in until our heartbeats sync and something like acceptance washes over us.

When my knees start to ache, I pull away. “Are you okay? Have you thought about talking to someone?”

“Yeah, we all went through the critical incident stress management. And I’d come to peace with it until you and I started this. I mean, I think I’ll always harbor guilt, but seeing you go through all this and having to dig yourself out… I can’t help feeling responsible for what’s happened to you.”

“Ansel, this isn’t on you. His death isn’t on you. He was a trained firefighter, and he had his own instincts that were guiding him. And as far as me, I’m good.” I hold out my arms even though I’m a little bit of a tattered mess right this minute. “So, no guilt, okay?”

He says nothing. I understand it will take time and that he harbors guilt for our relationship on top of not being able to save Caleb that night.

“Do you think the phone is charged enough to turn on now?” I figure distraction is the key right now, and I try to keep my voice from shaking, but I’m not sure I’m successful.

He grabs hold of my hand. “Whatever is on that phone, never forget that Caleb loved you. He did. That’s one thing I’m certain of.”

Pressing my lips together, I nod. “’Kay, let’s do this.”

We shuffle over to the wall where the phone is plugged in and both sit cross-legged in front of it, facing the wall that’s wet with new paint.

My hands shake as I pick up the phone. Steeling myself, I press and hold the button on the side of the phone. The Apple logo pops up on the screen, and it goes through its start-up sequence. My stomach roils. I need to know what’s on this phone, but at the same time, whatever it is has the potential to blow up everything I thought I knew about my dead husband, everything I thought I knew about the life we made.

When it’s finally done, the screen opens to a lock screen.

My head falls forward. Of course there’s a lock screen. He had a hidden phone. He’s not going to just leave it without a password.

It dawns on me that however Caleb was paying for this phone, it’s likely not being paid for anymore, so there’s probably no plan associated with it. But I can see that it’s connected to the house Wi-Fi, so he’s clearly used the phone here before.

“Would you be able to guess the code?” Ansel asks.

“I knew the code for his other phone.” I punch it in, and to my surprise, it unlocks the phone.

The fact he didn’t even make up another code makes me feel like a fool, as if he thought I was too stupid to ever suspect he’d cheat on me. As though if I had found the phone, I would have just handed it to him and gone on my merry way. Anger builds inside me, my heart racing as though it’s knocking on my sternum, demanding to be let free.

I stare at the screen and the text message app that shows twelve unread messages. One press of my finger to that little green app, and everything I knew of my life could be blown up. Such a simple act with such potentially devastating consequences. Once you know something for certain, you can’t unknow it.

Ansel puts his hand on my leg and squeezes.

Drawing in a deep breath, I press the icon. Inside the app, there are only messages between Caleb and Madelyn. I look at Ansel, tears filling my eyes. He meets my gaze, jaw set, and nods. I nod back and press on the screen.

I knew.

And it’s confirmed, only it’s so much worse than I thought.

THIRTY-ONE

Collins