by Matson , TC
I’d have to be dead not to see how beautiful Julia Hansen is. I’ve known her since we were ten when her dad took partnership at Dad’s law firm. But as beautiful as she is, I wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole. I grew up thinking of her like a little sister.
She smiles widely when she sees me and stands when I approach the table. “Asher Broderick. It’s been forever since I’ve seen you.” She hugs me before sitting back down.
“Since the funeral,” I remind her.
Her mouth contorts to the side with a sad smile. “I didn’t think you’d remember me coming by a few weeks after. You were in an ugly head space.”
I scoff. “Ugly head space is a nice way to say I was piss poor drunk. And I’m sorry if I said anything out of the way. I don’t remember.”
“You didn’t.” She takes a sip of her wine and grins. “But look at you now. Successful at tattooing. I remember when our families went to Disney World, you told me you wanted to tattoo. We were, what? Twelve? Thirteen? I’m glad to see you made your dreams come true.”
“What about you?” I change the subject off me.
The waitress comes by and takes my drink order before Julia replies.
“Well, I took over the One2One Foster Care division four years ago—”
“I heard and am surprised I haven’t heard from you before now.”
“Same goes for you, AB.” My nickname brings me a smile. When Julia was younger, she had a speech impediment and couldn’t do S-H sounds. Instead they were T-H and being the age I was, I couldn’t help but laugh at her every time she called me Ather. After I grew up some, I apologized, but she laughed it off and said I was an asshole. No truer words spoken.
“I was married for about two years,” she continues. “Divorced when I found out he was a cheating asshole. Thankfully we didn’t have kids. I moved back to Pittsford in the same year and shortly after I started running the FC division. My life story rolled into a nutshell. Dad and Mom are still as annoyingly sickeningly in love as they have always been.”
I chuckle as I take a sip of my beer the waitress sets down. We order our food.
“They were always disgustingly in love,” I say.
Julia sighs. “It might have been disgusting when we were kids, but damn if I don’t want to find a man who makes me swoon like he does Mom. What about you? Is there a Mrs. Broderick in your future?”
The thought of Kenlyn makes me smile. “Girlfriend.”
“Lucky her.” She smiles. “I got an interesting case file on my desk the other day.” I know where she’s going with this. “Actually, Miss Ward,” Zandrea, “brought it directly to me in hopes for an urgent resolve with a letter of recommendation.”
“Ollie’s a great kid, just given a shitty hand.” I knew Zandrea was going to do as much as she could to help.
There’s a shimmer in her dark brown eyes. “You’re working with Mr. Diaz, right?”
“I contacted him the day after everything happened.”
“He’s a good lawyer. And loved your dad.”
My head flinches. “He knew Dad?”
“Both of ours. He’ll take care of you. He’s called and talked to me about it. I can’t get into much but read between the lines—you’ll make a fantastic father.”
My heart swells. Ollie will be mine.
Once our food arrives, we eat in silence. It’s not uncomfortable. It’s familiar. Years might have separated us, but we’re still the same kids.
“As you know, I’m the guest speaker at Promise Hope this year.” She wipes her lips with her napkin and tosses it onto her mostly empty plate. “Would you be okay to share with me the aftermath of…” she doesn’t finish the statement and suddenly, I’m not so hungry any longer. “This year I’m focused on the guests understanding the difficulties of finding and seeking help after a tragedy and how the resources need to be available at people’s fingertips. I’ve been working hard to create and construct a new web division. Mr. Weldon, the FC’s founder, has given me the okay, if and only if, I can get enough funds and support to start it.”
Sweat begins to bead across my forehead and down my back. That part of my life I hate talking about. Reliving… Nightmares have already crept back in. I don’t need to rehash these things. My therapist would disagree. He’s a talkative asshole.
I clear my throat. “I didn’t know where to turn. I was lost,” I admit, my throat dry. “I remember I tried to search the internet for a therapist, but there were so many options and confusing degrees, that I was overwhelmed and didn’t seek further.”
She frowns. “I want to make the website easy to understand. Grief specialist, child, cognitive, youth, and tragedy therapist easily accessible with the addresses, office numbers, and emergency numbers at the fingertips of any person seeking help. I want to make it so that when they get on the site, they will know without a doubt they’re heading in the right direction.”
“Is it only for people exposed to tragedy?”
“Behavioral health, suicidal tendencies, domestic abuse, all have their own branches with easy-to-find help.”
I nod.
“Why didn’t you ask for help, Ash?” her voice softens. “You know I would’ve been there had I known you—”
Holding up a hand, I shake my head. “I didn’t realize I needed help until I woke up from my bender, Jules. You could have moved in and babysat me and I still wouldn’t have thought I needed it. Only when I realized how low I’d hit and how pissed Mom and Dad would’ve been at me did I seek help. Even then, I did so begrudgingly. I went through three therapists before I found the one who didn’t put up with my shit. He forced me to face it without making it feel forced, if that makes any sense.”
She nods and reaches over, placing a hand on mine. “I’m sorry, AB.”
“My life hasn’t been pretty, but I’m good now.”
“Are you though? Ollie’s situation has had to dredge up some feelings for you.”
“I’m good.”
“Do you still blame yourself?”
I squint. How the hell does she know that? Only Fay does.
“You were blaming yourself when I showed up. You have to know it’s not your fault.”
“Are we done?” I ask, pushing away from the table.
Her eyes widen. “I’m sorry. Yeah. No more heavy stuff. Stay and let’s catch up on other things. Please. It’s been years and you were my best friend. Tell me about your girlfriend,” she rushes out. “She’s got to be impeccable. You always did love the beautiful girls.”
My laugh is empty, but I do as she begs and stay. “She’s a fucking saint to put up with me,” I admit. “And she’s beautiful inside and out. Treats Ollie well too.” I would tell her about Cody, but if she didn’t report me, she could lose her job. I save us both the heartache and stay quiet.
“Is she all tattooed up like you?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “She doesn’t have one tattoo on her.”
Her brow arches. “Are you itching to put one on her?”
Smiling, I tighten my lips. “Nah. I did when I first met her, but getting to know her, she’s perfect the way she is.”
“Grown up AB in love.” She snickers. “It’s different than when you were with what’s-her-bitchy-face in high school.”
I bark a laugh. “High school love is equivalent to puppy love. Remember when you thought Roger Devlin was going to be your husband?” I roll my eyes. “You were crazy about him and he was too busy picking his boogers to notice.”
She covers her face hiding her blush. “Gah. I was so young and stupid.” She laughs, lifting her beet-red face back up. “When can I meet her?”
“She’ll be at Promise Hope with me.”
Her grin explodes. “Can I tell her all your dirty secrets? You know I have many, like the time you were dared to eat worms by Jeffery? Or the time I dared you to do a back flip into the pool. You acted all big and tough in front of all our friends but ended up face-planting the diving board before hitting
the water. You were always the reckless daredevil.”
We crack up and it feels good to go down memory lane without any judgment. Julia doesn’t look at me with pity, even knowing the ugly truth my life holds. We reminisce for another hour before calling it a night and heading out.
Chapter Thirty-One
Since Ash had some things to do tonight, Lucia and I decided to have a girl’s night and get out of the apartment. We haven’t had a lot of time together lately and I’ve missed her. We used to get all dressed up and go out to a nice restaurant once a month. We always thought we could find a good man that way, so needless to say since meeting Ash we haven’t done it. Tonight we decided to but only for the confidence boost it gives us.
I’m definitely not interested in any man other than the one who holds my heart and doesn’t know it. I still haven’t told him exactly how I feel because I’m scared he doesn’t reciprocate the same feelings. He’s blunt with most of his thoughts, so if he was falling in love with me, he’d tell me. He hasn’t. I chalk it up to having a lot on his plate.
“How’s Ash doing with Ollie?” Lucia asks as we stroll down the sidewalk, taking a walk before heading back home.
“He’s good. He’s working hard to adopt him.”
“Single life to single dad flawlessly. I have to admit, that’s pretty damn hot.”
“It’s taking some time to get used to. We don’t see each other as often. We haven’t gone out and I haven’t seen his crazy reckless side in a long time.”
“I’m assuming trying to find alone time is strenuous as well?”
I lift a shoulder. “It’s just contained in the bedroom now.”
“Have you two shared the three special words yet?”
“No. I’m scared and he’s been busy.”
Her brows dip low. “Scared of what? And too busy to talk?” She side-eyes me. “Sounds like you’re making up excuses. Do you love him?”
“Yes. Madly.” I shoot her a smile and lift a shoulder. “Although I feel like we’re both feeling the same things, he’s never been shy about voicing what he feels. So I think maybe I’ve fallen faster than him.”
“Maybe he’s waiting to make sure you’re feeling the sa—”
I swear I hear him laughing. It catches my attention and I jerk my head toward it. First I see him and then I see her. Short black dress. Long legs. Red fuck-me heels. His hands are in his pockets with her arm hooked through his as they casually walk together. He’s dressed up too, looking handsome as ever in a navy-blue button-up and dark-washed jeans. They’re laughing and smiling at each other.
And my heart drops. Hurt rises with the flames of angry jealousy.
“Who’s that?” Lucia asks, her Latina accent thick with attitude.
My insecurities explode into a savage fire, embers glowing hot as they rain down on me. “Apparently another reason why we haven’t seen much of each other lately, and possibly the reason why he doesn’t love me.”
We watch as they approach a car and Ash opens the door. She wraps her slender arms around his neck and pulls him into a hug, but my view is momentarily interrupted by a large truck passing by. By the time I see them again, Ash is shutting the door before she drives off.
As if he senses he’s being watched, his eyes lock onto me. Even across the street, I can see the shock, worry, and fear do a one-two punch on his expression. Turning on my heels, I walk away heading back toward the subway.
“He’s crossing the street,” Lucia informs me.
“Kenlyn,” he shouts after me. I’m not in a rush, so it takes no time for him to catch up. “Kenlyn.” My name is right behind me.
I spin around, flooded by hurt and rage. Together, they braid into a perfect concoction for manic. “Let me guess. It’s not what it looked like?”
“That was Julia Hansen. She’s over the One2One Foster Care division and a childhood friend.”
I’m vibrating with exasperation. “You told me you were busy but gave me nothing else. What am I supposed to think when I see this?”
“I know it looks bad, but—”
“You can explain, right?” I interrupt with an angry bite. It’s all too familiar. “How about start with honesty? Straight up and unadulterated honesty. Although, it seems like your style is more asking for forgiveness rather than permission.”
His face falls and he rakes his hand through his hair. “She’s a guest speaker for Promise Hope. She wanted to ask me about my story.”
His story? The one I know nothing about. The one he shuts down and closes up over. The one he promises he’ll tell me but hasn’t. “Did you discuss it?” My voice is eerily calm.
Please tell me no. Please.
“We did.”
My heart disintegrates. A tidal wave of hurt slams into me and I feel like I’m drowning. Tears begin to sting. “I’m your girlfriend and in your eyes, I don’t deserve to know that part of you. I’m not good enough to know that part, yet she is?”
“It isn’t like that.”
“I deserve more than the scraps you give me. I’m tired of the excuses and all the secrecy. I can’t handle it anymore. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so damn hard, but I get nothing but hurt in return. I’m done, Ash. This is over.”
Panic flashes across his eyes. “Kenlyn.”
“Leave me alone, Ash. I’m done.” My tears spill over and I turn on my heel, walking away from the man I love with Lucia quietly in tow.
I’m so tired of my heart hurting like this. Maybe I was scared to tell him because despite my heart belonging to him, my gut knew it wouldn’t work and talked my mouth into keeping quiet.
“You okay?” Lucia asks softly beside me.
“I’m livid,” I snap. “I give him everything and get nothing in return. I was a game. A good time. And it pisses me off.”
She doesn’t say anything, letting me blow off steam. Deciding I don’t want to ride the subway just in case he’s following me as usual, I hail a cab, which immediately comes to a stop.
“I don’t know what to say,” Lucia murmurs as we shut the door and the car pulls off.
Alone, with only Lucia and the cabbie, my heart wretches and my sob escapes me. “I quit. I can’t do this to myself anymore. I always give my all and in return I’m never good enough to get the same. I stuck by him through everything and this is the thanks he gives me. I’m done, Luc. I can’t do this anymore.”
She pulls me close by wrapping her arm around my shoulder and just lets me fall apart while quietly telling me how much she loves me.
By the time I crawl into my bed, my tears have stopped, but my heart still aches. I want to call my brother or my dad, but I don’t want to bring them down with me. Instead, I shut off the lights, pull my pillow into my chest, and close my eyes, begging sleep to take me away from this nightmare.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Seven days have passed. I haven’t talked to Kenlyn. She hasn’t responded to my texts or returned any of my calls. I’m a miserable son of a bitch…again. I’ve tried hiding my ill mood, but Cody and Ollie can sense it.
I’ve resisted going to her work or home and forcing her to talk to me. Her choice was loud and clear, but I’m haunted by the hurt in her eyes before she walked away. And I feel like shit knowing I’m the one who put it there. I should’ve told her about Julia, but truthfully, I didn’t think it was anything important. It was a work dinner.
Yeah. I know. It was an all-around shitty excuse to not have to answer the questions I hate having to answer.
Sleep has evaded me. My thoughts are everywhere rather than where they should be. I’m not focused. Ollie noticed it first when I put creamer over his waffles. The damn syrup was in the cabinet. Needing to have someone give it to me straight and possibly help, I dropped Ollie off at school and headed to the one person I know who would.
“Who is it?” Dotty’s husky voice calls from the other side of the door. “I’ve got a shotgun and I’m not afraid to use it.”
“It’s Ash. Kenlyn’s…friend
.”
Pulling open the door, she glares at me. “Well if it’s not the asshole with all the excuses and not enough ass to back it up.”
“I screwed up.”
“So I’ve been told.” She turns around, dragging her walker in front of her. “Come in.”
I follow her into the living room and help her get back into her chair. As I set her walker beside her, she grabs a newspaper from her table and swats me upside the head with it. “What in the hell were you thinking?”
Sighing, I sit on the couch and lean my elbows on my knees, my hands folded and hanging. “I wasn’t.”
“You and that other girl?”
I see Kenlyn spared no details. “Nothing,” I shake my head. “It was a business dinner with a childhood friend. Nothing more.”
“You’ve kept Pea at arm’s length. Why? What’s got you hiding your life from her? You love her, right?”
“Yeah.”
“She know that?”
“I hope so.”
Her scoff is raspy. “She won’t tell you because of her past and I’m assuming you aren’t saying it because of yours. You’re both acting stupid by denying each other your hearts and not saying anything.” She rests deeper into her chair and glances to the TV. “She said you were adopted. You have bad parents or something?”
“The opposite. I had the best parents.” I give her a small smile.
Her gaze meets mine. “Had?”
I swallow. “They died years ago.”
“Ah,” she says nodding. “So you’ve experienced a deep loss. Everything you loved has been taken from you and now you’re scared to love again.”
I blink to her. Nailed it.
“My husband died ten years ago. His ticker couldn’t keep up any longer. Three years later, my son was killed in the war. He left behind two children and a loving wife. She’s remarried now to someone I adore. He’s good to the kids.” Her lips quirk into a warm smile. “She didn’t let her loss lead her life. And if I could find love at my old age, I wouldn’t deny it either. You think your parents want you to be alone and miserable because they’re not here or do you think they’d want their son to experience love and life?”
