The Truth According to Ember

by Danica Nava

For every Indigenous woman who has ever felt invisible. I see you. I am you.

The electricity was most certainly not from the elevator. This man’s energy zapped right through me. If he felt it too, he didn’t let on.

I crossed my legs at my ankles as Queen Clarisse Renaldi taught me when I was a kid. If dorky Mia Thermopolis could be a princess, then I could get hired here.

That was the problem with hope. It created expectations, and when they weren’t met, you were left feeling crushed.

Poor pride was what my family and I flaunted instead of Ben Franklins. We didn’t need money or fancy shit. We didn’t need anything. We had each other. All our friends and family were poor, and we looked down on those who had money. Like they weren’t as tough as us. It was backward, but it was just how it was for

Bathrooms were the equalizer of humanity. It didn’t matter how rich you were or where you were. Everyone had to shit. Really, if you were shitting in a bucket or in a gilded toilet, did it matter? The act was the same.

Danuwoa eviscerated my soul. He was forbidden, and the spark that set my body aflame. His lips moved over mine, coaxing my stunned mouth to respond to him. To stop fighting and enjoy. It was sweet and sexy. So tender and sensual.

We needed each other’s kiss like we needed the air to breathe. We were insatiable lust incarnate, and I didn’t care.

His touch seared my soul and had ruined me for all others. He was a drug, and I was waiting for my next fix.

He was earnest and kind and steadfast. He was the rock that tethered me to reality.

“I’m a mess and you deserve so much better.” “Bullshit. Gvgeyui, I love you. You made mistakes, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.” “You love me?” “I’ve been in love with you for a while, haven’t you noticed?” “No,” I breathed. “You are such a liar.”

“I still can’t speak Cherokee,” I said, tears starting to stream down my face. “But gvgeyui.” My emotional tongue butchered the pronunciation. “I really love you.”

He shattered my walls. Every defense mechanism was no match for Danuwoa Colson, the sweetest man I’d ever come across.