“So that night, whatever was between us was… just heat? Was it only lust that you felt?” She gulped down all the champagne in her glass in one go.
“That was what we both felt.”
He had to wound her to protect her, but seeing her unhappy still crushed him.
“No, it wasn’t what I felt. But it looks like it was just me, one-sidedly loving you again.”
She looked fragile like an ice sculpture, her vulnerability more delicate than the beads sewn onto her dress. His hands itched to take her into his embrace, warm up that cold skin and melt the sadness that made her so pale.
“I’m sorry.” What else could he say now? “But you’re still young and beautiful. You can find another man. Your Mr. Right.”
“I don’t want to find anyone. I want you. You’re my Mr. Right, even though you keep saying all the wrong things all the time. I could have found someone in seven years, don’t you think? Why didn’t I? Because I couldn’t forget you.” She was starting to get emotional. He saw the vulnerability in her eyes, as she opened up. She was brave, to be able to do this.
No, he had no business admiring her.
“Don’t waste your life pining after something you can’t have. I’m not worth having again.” he said.
“Please don’t give me this ‘I am not good enough for you’ bullshit, because I’m smart enough to know who is and who isn’t good enough for me, Andrew. And I’m strong enough not to break this time. You cannot affect me the way you did back then. No one can.” She closed off her monologue with a huff. He could see in her flushed skin, her racing heart and her temper that she was ten times more determined that she’d ever been. “And I’ll do what I want. But don’t mind me. Continue being your heartless self and ignoring me like you’ve been doing. Because you do that really well.” The folds of her dress swayed when she swiveled.
Andrew had to pin himself to the pillar and exert an inordinate amount of self-control to keep himself from pulling her into his arms and kissing her until every drop of her tears evaporated in the heat between them.
Ashley wandered through the crowd, almost in a daze, searching for the exit. Deep breaths were all that kept him from giving in to the all-possessing need to grab onto her and heal her. Staying glued to his spot, he drained his glass of the remaining champagne. It tasted like water on his tongue and did nothing to cool the explosion in his ribcage.
This must be what it felt like to suffocate while breathing.
Since movement was the only way he could reduce his anxiety, Andrew mingled, making meaningless, uninspiring conversation which did not help him in the least to forget about what she’d said.
How could she ask him to hurt her again? Maybe she was strong enough to not let that affect her now, but he wasn’t. Everything she’d said just reinforced his guilt. She was angry he hadn’t tried to find her for seven years, but if she knew how many times he’d reached the front of her house and then frozen, she would know how hopeless this situation was.
Carl, who was with a bunch of men and women, looked at him and shook his head. Since Andrew had been trained to react to Carl’s disappointment in only one way since childhood, it stung.
Turning away, he picked up a cheeseboard stick from the tray of the server who passed him by and swallowed it. It tasted like plastic. His heart wasn’t into anything now. Anything except her.
Deciding that leaving the party would be the best thing he could do, Andrew tossed the stick onto the table and waved a goodbye to Carl. The old man glowered.
With his eyes on Carl, Andrew bumped into someone.
“I’m sorry, where’s the exit—” It was Ashley again. She blinked when she saw him, then turned around, angry. She cursed under her breath, mostly at herself.
“Leaving already?” Andrew asked. She didn’t reply. “You came all the way. Stay for dinner.”
“I’m not hungry. I want to go home.” She looked upset, every inch of her skin flushed and her chest rising and falling in rapid succession.
It wasn’t right to let her leave in this state of mind. She could ram her car into a post or get into an accident. The threat of losing her again had him overcoming his resistance to spending more time in her company.
“Do you want me to show you around the house?” he offered. “The garden is beautiful. You should take a look at it.”
“Don’t drag this out, Andrew,” she warned.
Yes, he needed to make a clean break. Sending mixed signals would make it harder for her to move on.
Nodding, he pointed his finger to the right. “The exit is over there, behind the glass statue. I’m heading there as well.”
“Not staying longer?” she asked.
“I have to make an early conference call tomorrow.” he said, as they walked. He stayed behind her.
“Ah, work. Of course.”
The noise of the party grew softer and softer until it faded, overtaken by their footsteps. Words came to his mouth, but dissolved before they could be said. He wanted to say something to make her feel better, but he was the last person on earth capable of doing that.
“How are things with my book?” he enquired, zeroing on a neutral topic.
“I’ll get to it soon. I’ve been busy with other titles.”
He rubbed his eyes.
“Ashley, I didn’t mean to be harsh back then.”
“I know. Stop explaining yourself. The more you do that, the more I misunderstand. I think, maybe he’s doing this because he cares about me, because he doesn’t want to hurt me. I keep imagining unrealistic things. And then you break my heart again and I’m left more confused than ever.”
“Are you confused now?”
The need to embrace her was growing desperate.
“No, I’m angry at myself for coming out here thinking that I could make us work.”
Only her back faced him, so he couldn’t see her expression when she said that.
“At least you tried, so you’ll have no regrets later.”
“Yes, I tried. And I failed.”
The autumn breeze hit his face. They were both out of the mansion.
A parade of cars moved in a line, in front of the huge entrance, dropping off people. Andrew texted his driver. Ashley stood around, looking at all the cars.
“How’re you going to get home?” he asked. Worrying about her didn’t count as love, right?
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll use Uber. That’s how I got here.” She clicked the app on her phone.
“I’ll drop you.” he offered.
She narrowed her eyes into slits. “You and I live nowhere near each other.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t drop you home.”
She moved her attention away from her phone. “Why should you? You don’t need to be courteous to me, Andrew. I’m nobody to you. We’ve established that.”
“We might not be on the best of terms, but I’m still worried for you. I shouldn’t be, but I am. I worry about whether you will get home safely. I worry about how you’ll feel when you get home. I worry about whether you’ll cry when you get home. It’s useless when I can’t do anything about any of those things. I don’t love you, Ashley, no, and I don’t want anything romantic or sexual with you. I don’t even want to see you after today. I just want to be able to worry about you and take you home tonight.”
The veil of tears over her eyes grew thicker. Shit, he’d confused her again.
Andrew sighed. What was so difficult about saying a simple goodbye and walking away? Why did the trembling of her lip, the moistness of her eyes, always make him do and say things that were contrary to what he should be doing and saying?
Ashley sniffled, when the bright headlights of his car, being driven to the entrance, flashed into her eyes, blinding her.
“Come on,” he said, avoiding touching her hand, which dangled in front of his chest.
“I can’t,” she said. “If I get into the car with you, we’ll talk. I’ll smell your scent. Then, I’ll th
ink about you more. I’ll think of you all night until I’m exhausted. I don’t want to do that. So I’ll go on my own. But… will you grant me something before that?”
A punch rammed into his gut, a punch of pain.
“What?” Anything. He’d give her anything.
“I understand you can’t love me, but at least kiss me goodnight. Give me a farewell kiss. An innocent kiss. No tongue.”
Except that.
“There can’t be an innocent kiss between you and me.”
“There can be. I’ll show you.” Her eyes sparkled.
She cupped his face and looked into his eyes, hoping to find the one thing he couldn’t give her.
He gave her a silent warning. “Let’s not do this.”
“Let’s do it,” she urged, arching her back to get her swollen lips to his.
Barely a finger away, her breath played havoc on his nerves. A moment of weakness, the slightest movement could meld their lips. Could destroy the precious state of half-peace he had found.
Guilt urged him to give her this last kiss. She deserved at least this. She was so desperate now. She was letting go of her ego, her pride, and begging him for this. She was trying so hard, just like she had tried during their marriage. Trying to make them work. But like then, he had no choice but to disappoint her now.
With nerves of steel, Andrew gripped her shoulder and pushed her away. It was just a light nudge, but his body language left no room for ambiguity.
“No, Ashley. No.” It was a whisper but it reverberated like a yell.
Their attraction was a slippery slope they were both sliding down, towards a single destination—destruction. It had to stop. It had to stop before it spun out of their hands.
Hurt, she gathered a handful of her dress, scrunched it up and looked down, trying to find the strength to fight the tears. One more dose of pain injected itself into him.
“Why?” she demanded, angry now.
“Someone has to be the adult.”
“We are both adults. Don’t treat me like a kid by telling me what I should and shouldn’t be doing. I’m capable of making that choice on my own.”
“Yes, you are. And you’ve been doing that extremely well for the last seven years, without me. You should continue doing that.” he said and it annoyed her more.
She looked up at the sky to trap the tears. Andrew was sure she wanted to say many things now. Things she couldn’t say because of how swollen her throat was.
His driver opened the door of the car.
“Sir,” he said, urging Andrew to get in.
With the cars lining up behind his, Andrew couldn’t linger around any longer.
“Good night, Ashley.”
He didn’t attempt to touch her. He left with a cool goodbye. Like he should. Left without another word. But Andrew couldn’t prevent himself from turning back and looking at her one last time when the car pulled away.
The expression on her face was so heartbreaking, he wished he’d never seen it.
Chapter 16
There was an unmistakable sense of déjà vu when Ashley walked in to meet Dr. Connor at Bellevue Medical Center. The last time she’d set foot in this place, she had been unemployed, depressed and hopeless.
Completely different from how she was now. No, she wasn’t perfect, but she’d come far.
It had been a tough, long and, most of the time, lonely battle. On some days she had lost, given in to the despair and skipped her medications. But over the long haul, she had won on more days than she had lost. Victory was a long-term thing.
Dr. Connor, a relatively young forty-something man, welcomed her with a wide smile.
“You look great.”
Compared to six years ago, when she had been unkempt and tired, Ashley probably looked more than great.
Ashley sank back into the couch she had spent hours in, but it suddenly didn’t seem as comforting anymore. But it didn’t matter. She didn’t need comfort anymore. She had the strength to face discomfort. And she was here to do exactly that.
“It has been a long time since I saw you. Six years.” Dr. Connor referred to the files from the past on his lap. “Why is it that you have decided to see me again? Have you been experiencing depression again?”
“No, I’m not depressed yet but I’ve been feeling low recently and I wanted to see you before it turns into something worse.”
“Tell me about it.” Concern glinted in his eyes, but he tried his best to look non-judgmental. Considering her history of mental illness, Ashley had no doubt that he was panicked.
“Actually… I met my ex-husband.” Ashley put her palms on her lap.
“Andrew?” Dr. Connor shifted.
“Yes, him. I know, I said I’d never fall for him again, but I have.” She dabbed her mouth with Kleenex from Dr. Connor’s table. “I even tried getting back with him, but he rejected me. I think that has a lot to do with my state of mind. Even though he made it plain that he doesn’t want anything to do with me, I can’t stop thinking about him. I can’t stop feeling angry and frustrated. And… I can’t concentrate on anything.”
Dr. Connor looked at her like he comprehended perfectly. Which was how psychologist always looked to their patients. “What you’re going through is a difficulty in accepting that your relationship with Andrew has changed. Perhaps he loves you and maybe he doesn’t. Seven years is a long time. People’s feelings can change.”
“I know. I’m trying to forget, but it’s hard.” She dug her nails into the denim covering her thighs.
“Did you try using any of the approaches we discussed at your last session such as meditation?” Dr. Connor shifted his glasses up before they slid over the bump of his nose.
“Yes, but I can’t push him out of my head. In the beginning, when I met him, I was afraid he’d hurt me. And he has.”
Dr. Connor patted her shoulder. “But you’ve learnt to cope with hurt now. I’m sure you’ll recover faster than you did last time.”
“Yes. Getting back with him would be a gamble. I don’t know how it’ll end up. But I still want to do it. And I’m sure he wants to, somewhere deep down. We’ve kissed and come close to having sex—all in the space of a few short weeks. The chemistry between us is still there. But something keeps coming between is. Initially, it was my hatred for him. But now—I think it’s his fear. I can see something in his eyes—it flickers then it’s gone. He’s holding himself back. I don’t know why. I think something’s bothering him.”
At Carl’s birthday party, Ashley had seen it multiple times—the quick transpositions of his mood. One instant, red-hot desire flashed in his eyes, the next instant, it was replaced by guilt and confusion. She’d glimpsed some of his inner demons when she had leaned in to kiss him that night. He had feelings for her. That knowledge made it harder to forget him.
“You should talk about what’s bothering him.” Dr. Connor suggested, which made her doubt that he understood anything she’d said.
If it had been something they could discuss, she would have already talked about it. But in every meeting, he withdrew when she started talking about the past.
“He told me that he used to have nightmares after my suicide. I am wondering if he could have developed post-traumatic stress disorder after what happened.”
“It’s not possible for me to comment on that without examining the patient. But I assume he would have gotten medical help if he did have PTSD. Recovery doesn’t usually take years.”
After seeing Andrew partially break down at the grave and his insecurities last night, she was sure there was a mental dimension to it. Ashley had seen many people in her group therapy sessions with the same darkness in them when they had come in for the first time and opened up about their psychological disorders.
“There must be something.” she insisted.
“You could ask him to come in with you for couples counseling. It would help clarify his thoughts on the matter.”
“I don’t think he’ll agree to tha
t.”
More like she was never going to be able to broach the subject with him. Did couples counseling make sense when they weren’t even a couple?
“Oh, right.” Dr. Connor shook his head vigorously.
“I’ve tried calling him so many times, but he’s blocked my number so I can’t get through.”
“As I said before, Andrew might not necessarily have the same feelings about the two of you. It seems to me he’s determined to avoid you.”
“Yes, I feel like a stalker. But I can’t stop.” Her feelings were out of control at this point. Obsessive. All she did all day was to obsess over him. It was toxic, she knew, but when you loved someone so much, it wasn’t really a choice.
“You could try spending more time with your friends or doing something you like. It would help take your mind off him.”
“Nothing can take my mind off him,” Ashley said. “But I will try.”
“It’s not healthy to pursue a relationship with someone who cannot reciprocate your feelings. I mean, when you came in after your divorce, you said you thought that you had been in a one-sided relationship with Andrew the whole time and that was the reason you were so miserable. Don’t you feel it’s the same now?”
“No, it isn’t. I found out that Andrew loved me in the past. Love is not something that disappears easily, or at least I would like to believe that. Last week, at his father’s birthday party, he said he worries about me. I think that means he still cares.”
“Worrying about someone is not the same as loving someone. It could be a way of easing the guilt Andrew feels regarding the way he treated you seven years ago.”
It was annoying how everything Andrew did could be explained away in a way that didn’t have to involve him loving her. Yet, she was sure that he did love her.
“You could be right. But guilt is not all he feels towards me. I know, it sounds like I’m in denial and making things up so I can feel better, but I’m sure he loves me. There is no basis for it, but I’m certain it. That’s why I’m not able to let go.”
Because I have to hold on for the both of us.
“I cannot tell you what to do. It’s your decision. If you feel so strongly about this, the only thing I can suggest is to try talking to him.”
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