I’m not leaving her. I won’t let this happen again. “No.”
“I’m sorry, did you say no?”
“I’m staying. We belong together, Ashton. I know it, you know it—hell, even your dad knows it.”
Ashton lets out a laugh. “You know it, huh? Now you suddenly know it? Where were you six months ago when I asked you to love me? Where were you a year ago when we fought about our future and you made me promises? Where was this profound knowledge when I told you that I want to get married and have babies and you said—” She taps her chin like she’s thinking hard. “‘Well, good luck with that, fragolina, I hope you’re happy with that man.’”
She may be spitting the words at me, but I hear the pain. I hurt her. So many times, I’ve made mistakes, but I was protecting her from loving me.
“I was a dick.”
“Oh, I know.”
“I was scared, but I’m not anymore.”
Ashton shakes her head. “Well, I’m not yours anymore.”
That’s where she’s wrong. She is mine. She will always be mine. “I’m not walking away this time, Ash. No matter how hard you push.”
She laughs once. “Good for you, but I’m done. I’m moving on. I have plans, big ones, and they don’t include going for another ride on the relationship train with you. I’m done being a casualty of that train wreck.”
The many arguments I’ve already prepared start to resurface, but I stifle them. I know that winning her back isn’t going to take words, she needs me to prove it. So, that is exactly what I plan to do.
“I have no plans of that either.”
“What exactly is your plan then? Did you think I would sleep with you?”
That wouldn’t be a bad thing, but I know her better than that. “No, but if you’d like to, I won’t turn you down.”
She huffs. “Asshole.”
I am, but I know sarcasm and anger are her fall backs. If I can evoke those, I’m partially there.
“Let’s go inside and have dinner. That’s all I’m asking.” I know it’s a long shot, but maybe she’ll take pity on me. “Please. I am injured and all . . .”
Ashton isn’t one to give in. It’s one of the things I love about her. She’s strong, and when she makes up her mind, that’s it.
I also know that her heart is ten times bigger than she’d like to pretend it is.
“Don’t use that on me.”
“Okay, how about I missed you. I came home yesterday and drove here to see you. I would get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness, but I kind of can’t.”
“Quinn . . .”
“I’m serious. I want to have dinner and then talk.”
We stare at each other, waiting for the other to break. I’ll be damned if it’s me. I’ve done it to her too many times. I’ve walked away, given her a reason to think I’ll do it again, but this time, I won’t.
I love her.
I love her so much that I can’t fucking breathe without her. When she left me, I thought I could get over it. In time, I assumed things would be easier. At no point was I prepared for the never-ending pain that would come with knowing I’d really lost her.
I said as much in the letters I wrote but never sent because I knew she’d be the one left hurt. I saved them all and decided to man up and tell her in person. She deserves that much.
“Let the man in.” Ashton’s father’s voice breaks the standoff. “Quinn, son, come in and eat.”
As much as I want to stroll past her and do just as he asked, I have to let it be her.
Ashton whips her head around. “No, Dad. No way. If he stays, then I’m leaving.”
“Let the man have a home-cooked meal, pumpkin.”
I seriously love her family right now. Although, I suspect she doesn’t.
“He can have all the food he wants, but you’ll have to tell Mom why I’m leaving.”
I missed that fire. It breathes inside her, and when she lets it out, everyone around her burns. It’s a thing of beauty so long as you’re not in its path.
“It’s okay, Ash.” She turns back to me, her hands are at her sides but they are clenched in fists. “Mr. C., as much as I’d love to stay, I think it’s best if I go.” Her eyes widen. “My leg is bothering me a bit, and I plan to do some walking tomorrow in New York.”
“You’re staying in New York?” Ash asks as she crosses her arms.
“I am. I have this person in the city who I want to see over the next few weeks.”
Mr. Caputo smiles. “All right, don’t be a stranger, though. Ashton . . .” He turns his gaze to her. “Don’t be too long, your mother is starting to pace.”
“Sure thing, Dad.” Ashton huffs. Her blue eyes turn their focus back to me. “Weeks? You’re spending weeks, as in plural, in New York?”
“Could even be months, I have a lot of groveling to do, and I have a feeling it’s going to take time for this person to come around.”
Ashton bites her lower lip and closes her eyes. “Don’t do this.”
I take a step closer, brushing her lip and smoothing where her teeth touched. “I’ll see you tomorrow, fragolina. And the next day and the next because it’s time I started showing up for you.”
I kiss her cheek and hobble down the stairs without looking back. I’m ready for the fight of my life, and no matter what scars I end up with, I won’t care as long as I win her back.
6
Ashton
I slept like complete shit.
My night was filled with dreams of my mother’s food since I barely ate dinner, dreams of impending doom that ended in train cars on fire, and dreams of super hot sex with Quinn that had me waking up horny.
All in all, I have a feeling today is going to suck.
I climb out of bed an hour before my alarm and start my day. Once I’m dressed in my favorite plum top and my black leggings, I head to the door. I pause once I get there because, what if he’s here?
Do I talk to him? Pretend he’s not there?
Damn him for fucking up my new normal.
No, you know what? I am a confident, brilliant, and successful woman. I don’t have to be afraid of seeing him because I’m stronger than that. I have all that I want—or at least, I’m about to once I get myself knocked up.
Which, I plan to have happen sooner rather than later because nothing says I’m over you like a baby with a new man.
My phone pings and I pray it’s not Quinn.
It isn’t.
* * *
Gretchen: I heard you’re knocking yourself up.
* * *
Me: Catherine has a big mouth.
* * *
Gretchen: I’m sure she assumed you told me already.
* * *
Me: Probably. Guess what?
* * *
Gretchen: What?
* * *
Me: I have big news! I’m going to get pregnant without a man present for it.
* * *
Gretchen is the most pragmatic one of us. If anyone is going to understand, it’s her.
* * *
Gretchen: Wow! That’s big news! So glad you told me before I heard about it from someone else. Now that I got that out of the way . . . I’m happy for you. Did you pick the lucky guy yet?
That’s the part I’m dreading. The whole browsing the book thing is unappealing. I almost wish she would pick for me. That’s not a bad idea, actually.
I head out of the apartment and make my way to the elevator while sending her another message.
* * *
Me: No, can you come for a visit this week or next?
* * *
Gretchen: I’m sure I could come up. My mother is up my ass about not visiting before the wedding, why?
* * *
Me: I need you to find my baby daddy. Lots of lists and pro and con columns.
* * *
Gretchen: Oh, this is the best gift you’ve ever given me.
* * *
Her and her lists. I swear, this
girl needs a support group focused on curbing the need to make them and check them two hundred thousand times.
* * *
Me: You’re welcome. See you soon!
* * *
Gretchen: Yes! And prepare for a list of questions in your email today.
Shocking. Another list.
I make it to the first floor and out the door without seeing Quinn. My leaving early was a fabulous idea if I do say so myself. Usually, I don’t roll into work until later in the day because we don’t see patients until the afternoons on Mondays. Not that I ever actually see patients, but I like that I get to take my time most Mondays.
Today, not so much.
I put my earbuds in and start to walk. This is what I love about New York City, the air. Sure, it’s filled with smog and God knows what else, but I can just breathe when I’m here. While I’m on a street with thousands of people, I can feel completely alone. The rap music blares in my ears as I sing along in my head.
Blocks pass by, and I’m jamming out without a care in the world.
I turn to cross to the other side of the street, and a hand wraps around my arm, pulling me back and against someone’s chest.
“Hey!” I protest and turn to give the asshole a piece of my mind, until I see who the hell it is.
Quinn pulls the headphone from my ear as my heart begins to race. “You almost got yourself killed.”
“What?”
“You didn’t even look at that car that was turning and almost ran you over.”
Confused, I look around, see the two people staring at me, and then look over to the car that’s flying down the street.
Shit.
“Well, thank you, but you can release me now.”
Quinn’s hand tightens slightly, pulling me even closer to his body. “I should, but I don’t want to.”
“You’ve done it often enough that you should be a pro by now.”
He sighs. “Maybe I’ve learned my lesson.”
I have to remember all of the shit I’ve been through with him. My resistance to him has never been strong, but I’m going to have to hold on to the little I have. He and I don’t want the same things, and there’s no way to change that.
He wants war and guns and the adrenaline rush from whatever the hell he does. There will never be a merging where we stand.
“Are you still in the navy?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Did you reenlist?”
His eyes fill with sadness. “I had the papers drawn.”
So, that’s a yes. He’s going to do it, just hasn’t yet.
“Do you ever plan to give it up, get married, have kids, or love anyone?”
His fingers start to loosen. “No, maybe, I hope, and I already do.”
I shake my head and step back. We are not doing this. I am not going to believe that this time is any different. I take the earbud back from him and put it into my ear, letting the angry rap music fuel me. “We’re done. Go back to Virginia.”
As much as I’d like to believe he’s going to do any of that, he won’t. Quinn is determined, and apparently, I’m on the list of things to conquer.
I just have to ignore him and hope he surrenders before I do.
“So he’s there? In New York?” Catherine asks as I sit in the bathroom stall, trying to get my head together.
“Yup.”
She laughs. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“He always does this, Cat!” I look at her on the screen as she wipes her eyes. I woke her and don’t even feel bad about it. She’s the only person who will understand. She walked away from Jackson once.
“You and I both know that these guys are determined when they realize they fucked up.”
Jackson’s head lifts, and he stares into the camera. “You do know it’s early here?”
“Good morning, Muffin. Did I wake you?”
He groans and then kisses Catherine’s shoulder. “You know we’re on the West Coast.”
“I don’t care. No one told you to move.”
Catherine shakes her head. “It’s been years, Ash.”
“Doesn’t make it any easier.”
One day, I’ll get over it, just not today.
“Regardless,” Jackson grumbles, “Quinn loves you, and he’s already asked me about positions at the company if he should ever have the need.”
“He what?”
“He called a few weeks ago, asking if he could come work for me if his circumstances changed. It happens a lot when the guys are thinking about transitioning out. Apparently, I’m like fucking Santa Clause when it comes to jobs for the good little SEALs in this community. But, with his interrogation and shooting skills, he’d be a great asset.”
I stare at my friends because Quinn would never leave. He’s going to reenlist. So, we’re talking about years before that would even be possible, right? “But . . . he doesn’t want to get out.”
Jackson sighs. “Many of us who get out don’t do it because we want to. I was shot and that’s why I was booted. Hell, Natalie said Quinn got injured and that’s why he’s home now. Plus, he hasn’t signed the papers yet.”
“He’s on a crutch, but . . .” I think back to the incident on the street. He didn’t have his crutch. He was standing there, holding me without it. “He doesn’t even need a crutch! The bastard was just playing with me yesterday! Oh, I’m going to kill him myself. Seriously, he had a crutch when he showed up, and then today, he suddenly doesn’t need it?”
How low is that? To use a fake injury. Did he think I was going to forgive him for all the shit over the last few years because he had a fake limp? He’s dead.
“Ashton,” Catherine calls my attention. “He’s not faking it, honey. He was manning up so he could make it through the streets of New York without losing you.”
“How do you know?”
She looks at Jackson, who answers. “Because it is what I would do. If my job was to protect the girl I love, there would be no amount of pain I wouldn’t endure to make sure I was successful in my mission.”
“Protect me?” I laugh. “Please, he has done the opposite of that at every turn.”
“You’re really stupid sometimes,” Catherine says. “As much as I’d love to debate this, I have to pee and you need to go back to work. Just think about this, why would he keep coming back? Why were you the first person he ran to when he was released from the hospital?”
“Because he’s an idiot!” I yell.
They both laugh as Cat sits up. “Maybe so, but then again, isn’t there a saying about fools in love or some shit?”
She hangs up, and I groan. I hate my friends sometimes. He isn’t here because he wants to protect me. He never has. All Quinn Miller has ever cared about is protecting his damn self. And what the hell is he protecting me from? Cabbies and coffee? If he cares about my safety, he would stay away from me.
I head out of the bathroom and run into Clara.
“Hey! I was looking for you,” she says.
“You were?”
“Yeah, I wanted to see if we could get some blood work started for you.”
Yes. This I can control. The baby and my pregnancy is the priority here, so that’s what I want to focus on. Not that stupid boy with his stupid penis and his stupid ideas of getting me back.
“I am still very serious. I just know your caseload is huge.”
“It is, but you’re my friend, Ash. I want to work on this one. Come on, let’s get you to the lab and get things moving.”
“Ah, the lab,” I say with a hint of wistfulness. “My home away from home.”
We catch up on a few cases we’re working on as we walk. It’s been a tough few weeks for both of us. One of the patients, who should’ve had no problem conceiving, lost her last viable embryo. It was, by far, one of the hardest cases I’ve worked on. In the lab, it’s easy to be slightly detached since I focus on the science of things and, most of the time, I don’t have to see their faces. But Clara and I h
ad spent a lot of time trying to figure out what was happening, and we both grew more and more invested in every loss. It was heartbreaking, really.
“Do you have any worries?” she asks as we approach the lab.
“Just that it won’t work. You know my family history and how I worry that I’m going to be like my mother, not to mention my age and the fact that my viable eggs have dwindled.”
“I won’t lie to you, Ashton, we have no idea yet what the chances are and if you’ll be able to carry. We still don’t know what exactly caused . . .”
Caused the miscarriage.
Clara is the only person other than Quinn who would know this wouldn’t be my first pregnancy. Just about three years ago, I was pregnant with my married boyfriend’s baby.
I found out two weeks after I met his wife. I was a mess and had gone to Clara so she could do a full workup. I found out that I was nine weeks pregnant.
I lost that baby two weeks later, and all the fears I had about my inability to have children, became very real.
“I know, but I’m going to hope that was a fluke.”
She gives me a sad smile. “I hope so too, and this time, we’ll be prepared with great medical care through the entire pregnancy.”
There wasn’t anything we could pinpoint as to why I miscarried, but Clara had suggested that stress could have been a large factor.
So, after I lost the baby, I took a month off work.
I headed to Virginia Beach and hung out with Mark because I figured he would be someone who wouldn’t judge me. Jackson’s best friend and I have gotten along from the beginning. He makes me laugh, and for about two seconds, I thought maybe he and I could be something. Thankfully, that idea disappeared as soon as it started.
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