The way he took my body took me to a place where not even thoughts existed.
“That’s it, Tay. Come for me.”
“Ash,” I sobbed his name as my body finally broke.
Sadness, fear, tension… everything scattered to the ground as my body dissolved in desire.
“Fuck, Tay,” I heard him grunt through the rain and roaring in my ears, followed by the warm rush of his release deep inside me, gushing against my womb.
“I love you, Ash,” I said minutes later when I finally felt the rain.
He bent down, placing an open-mouthed kiss on top of my stomach and murmured, “I love you, too, Tay.”
Reality was brought back to us drop by drop like the rain from the heavens. It was laid on us in slow, steady layers that allowed our bodies to move with the sadness instead of recoil from it.
With my legs around his waist, he carried me back to the house, leaving our clothes for another day.
The first chill I felt all night was when he slid the sheet up over us and wrapped his arms around me.
“I don’t understand, Tay,” he said softly. “Why would he do this?”
More than anything in my entire life, I wished I had the reason. I wished I had the answer that would make it okay.
But sometimes, there is no answer.
“No matter what Larry showed the world, no matter what he did for everyone else, sometimes it’s impossible to know the battles we fight inside ourselves,” I said with a voice that was weighted but at least it was steady.
“Just don’t know how to process something I don’t understand.” I heard the tears in his eyes just as surely as I felt mine down my cheeks. “I don’t know how to forgive something I don’t understand.”
“Sometimes, it’s not our place to understand, just to be understanding.” I pressed my lips over his heart. “Sometimes, the only way to forgive is to be okay with not knowing.”
There was energy in the air, like the kind from the storm outside but stronger. It sparked with grief and disbelief. It tingled with fear and confusion. And it weighed with love—love lost and love found.
And for me, it whispered in my ear, long after all our tears had stopped, long after Ash finally began to breathe deeply, sleep overtaking sadness. It whispered that I still hadn’t given him everything.
And the man in front of me—the man who Ash had become, one who wasn’t perfect but who was still worthy of praise—he deserved everything.
Ash
“I see you, Ashton Tyler, and you are a good man.”
I shot up from bed with a gasp, the memory strangling me with its nostalgic noose.
My heart had been ripped open by the news of Larry’s death. Shredded into a million pieces by the violence of emotional extremes, and in the process, spilled out pieces of my consciousness that had been previously inaccessible.
“Ash?” My sudden movement had woken her, but I couldn’t turn. I couldn’t breathe.
All I could do was remember…
Like a lightning bolt, memories flashed in my mind like an old videotape, one that had been damaged so the scenes and the sounds stuttered and skipped, but there was enough of the film to watch most of the story.
‘Why does no one see me? Why does no one see me as I drown?’ I saw myself saying that night on tour.
And Taylor, looking at me with those same passionate and compassionate eyes had replied, ‘I see you.’
She’d always seen me. Even at my weakest.
Like a string of twinkle lights, moments of that night lit up in a bright string of truth.
She’d saved me. And then she’d cared for me.
I’d confessed to always wanting her. And she’d been unable to deny the same attraction.
I’d begged her to stay. And she’d begged me to take her.
I’d been the one to take her virginity. Six months ago.
Slowly, I turned to the woman sitting up in my bed, staring at me with concern as her hand rested on her stomach.
The woman pregnant with my child.
My gaze dragged up to her eyes in disbelief and confusion and betrayal.
First, Larry. Now, Taylor.
“You remember…” She choked the words out, her chest caving in from the release of pressure.
The tension between us pulled tight like a rubber band stretched to its limit, and whether it broke or snapped back, whichever came next was going to hurt.
“We slept together that night,” I stated with a deceptively low and steady voice. The calm before the storm. “We slept together six months ago, and that makes that baby—”
“Yours.”
Taylor
I inhaled slowly as a searing cramp ripped through my stomach and reminded myself, ‘the Lord has not given me the spirit of fear, but of peace, love, and a sound mind.’
I’d been to confession a thousand times, but I’d never felt like this. This felt like the most important confession in my whole life. One that came with no guarantee that a certain number of ‘Our Fathers’ and ‘Hail Marys’ would absolve.
“You’re the father, Ash,” I confessed in full.
When the words released, I sucked in air like I’d been underwater for too long and could now finally breathe. But the relief of breathing was miniscule compared to the pain I felt as he pulled away.
I pressed on, needing to explain, knowing he deserved it. “A-All those months ago on tour, after you found out about Blake and Zach being together, I picked you up at a bar because the bartender called me. I brought you back to your hotel room. Y-You were going to continue drinking through the minibar. You were angry, but that wasn’t so hard to see through. You were hurt—hurting. And when you asked me to stay with you, it was as though your words had come from my own heart. So, I kissed you. I just”—a sob lodged in my throat—“you were broken, and I guess, I was broken, too. Lonely and locked up. Wanting things that I thought I shouldn’t. And I couldn’t do it anymore. I wanted you. I wanted to love you. So, I let myself.”
The darkness from his eyes grew like a thundercloud over all his hard features and I realized I wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. The trauma of losing Larry had jarred free the memories his addiction had locked up tight.
It was ironic that his first strike would be his body removing itself from my proximity. I fought to suppress the shiver at the immediate loss of warmth and the inundation of dread into my cells. I jerked forward as another cramp pulled at my stomach, the stress of my emotions making them feel a thousand times worse.
“I’m sorry,” I pleaded weakly, pulling my own hands to my chest because it now felt like they were trespassing on his body. “I wanted to tell you—”
“That’s why you came here?” he demanded. “Not because of what you thought I could do to help you, but because of what I’d done?”
My heart felt like it was a giant bass drum, thumping, vibrating in my chest with enough force to make me shake.
“Y-yes,” I admitted. “You’d disappeared. And it didn’t seem quite right, but you didn’t tell anyone anything. And… And I needed to tell you in person. But then…”
“But then what?” His prompt was just as hard as the blue stones of his eyes. “Why keep it from me? After everything? Why…” His eyes narrowed. “I confessed everything to you. I told everything to you, and you kept this from me?”
“I was afraid,” I blurted out, the goosebumps covering my skin made the soft bedsheets feel coarse and rough against it. “I was afraid that you’d want me out of responsibility. T-That you’d offer to be with me, to be a family, because you felt like you had to. Because your loyalty is your greatest strength and weakness. And that’s not what I came here for. I didn’t come to force you to do something. I came to tell you because you had a right to know and make your own decision, whatever it was.”
“So, what? You wanted to make sure I might still want to fuck you after the baby is born before telling me that it was mine? I told you I loved you, Tayl
or. And even that was months delayed from the moment I knew I loved you. I knew I loved you the second that everything I’d been working for glowed brighter knowing that you were and would be a part of it. Telling you that I loved you was like walking out into a thunderstorm and saying that there’s a chance of rain. Was that not enough? Was that not enough to deserve the truth?”
If I’d thought the anger in his tone was heartbreaking, I’d take it any day over the pain I heard now.
“Y-yes!” My voice trembled as I reached for him, only causing him to pull back and break my heart a little further. “It was, Ash. It was. I just… I have no reason… no good reason. I could take a lot of things—you not wanting me, you not wanting to be a part of the baby’s life, my Church’s judgment, my family’s judgment… but I couldn’t take you only by obligation. I was selfish. I wanted you for myself. Not me, the woman carrying your child. Not me, the woman in need that would be one more good deed to buy your own forgiveness. I wanted you to love just me… Taylor… the woman who loves you.”
For the first time in my life, the rhythmic sound of the ocean crashing outside the house—the only sound in this silence—wasn’t calming at all. It was a reminder of how just one wave could take you under.
“I did, Tay… I did love just you,” he finally said with a soft strained voice. “And I loved Larry. And you both—fuck.” He swore, spearing a hand through his hair before he yanked on clothes faster than I could process what was happening. “I have to go.”
My hand cupped my mouth, forcing myself to swallow my sob. He couldn’t go now. “But what… what about… what are we—”
“I need to go, Taylor. I need to think.” The anger… the pain… they were nothing compared to the distance I heard in his voice—a distance that was mirrored when he walked out of the room.
“Ash, please.” I scrambled out of the bed, my body making it took cumbersome for me to move quick enough to catch him.
By the time I got a shirt on and made it to the front door, his truck was disappearing up the driveway.
“I love you,” I murmured into the wind, hoping the breeze would carry it to the part of his heart that knew it was the truth and praying it wouldn’t be left to fall like the rest of the dust he’d left behind.
Taylor
I stumbled back inside in a daze, the pain of watching him walk away only interrupted by the intermittent cramps that tore through my stomach.
It made my skin burn, my muscles ache. It made organs falter and my bones sore. I was left in the unknowing. I was left not understanding what was happening or what was going to happen.
And suddenly my words from the night before seemed just as insufficient to me as they probably had felt for Ash.
Sometimes, it’s not our place to understand but to be understanding.
The dwindling rational me knew it was more than okay for him to need time to process. The rest of me wanted answers now. I’d been wrapped in a blanket of comfort and security and love for weeks and now it was ripped from me and I was desperate to know if I’d ever get it back or if I’d need to figure out how to survive in the cold.
It hurt. It really, really hurt.
I paused, seeing my phone on the kitchen counter, and knew it was pointless to try and call him.
Pointless and disrespectful.
Ash had been ripped open by Larry’s death, and my confession had poured salt in the wound.
As much as I wanted to be there for him, to hold him, to help him… I’d also been the one to hurt him. What else could I do except respect his wishes at this time?
There would be a time to finish this conversation, but there was no point to forcing it now.
I drifted back into the bedroom, took one look at the bed—the one we’d shared, the one where he’d told me he loved me—and turned right back around. Instead of crying, it felt like my tears fell backward and filled up my lungs instead, making it harder and harder to breathe when everywhere I looked, all I saw were the memories of how I’d fallen in love with Ash in these rooms, and how I’d hurt him.
Pushing through the door back outside, I folded my arms over my chest, trying to keep all my broken pieces from spilling out as I walked toward the restaurant and the cliffs. I needed distance from the house, and my body needed to walk.
The pain in my back had become tremendous, and my contractions not only worsened but refused to relax. The constant brutal burn in my stomach and my heart turned my breaths harsh and arduous.
I struggled to focus on anything except how much it hurt.
My bare feet halted at the edge of the restaurant’s deck, the serenity of the ocean and cliffs unaltered in the face of my suffering. I caught sight of our clothes from last night, still in discarded piles on the grass just next to the edge of the wood.
I should bring them inside.
Just as the thought occurred to me, I cried out, struck with a pain so sudden and so severe it took me to my knees.
My eyes squeezed shut as I struggled to breathe through it, one hand rubbing over my stomach, the other stabilizing on the wood surface as I bent forward to try and ease the pain.
It wasn’t just my heart breaking that made everything painful. It was the baby.
Something was wrong.
I needed to get back to the house and call Ash.
Forcing my eyes open, I focused on my fingers against the wood of the deck and then, the ones on my stomach. With a groan, I pushed myself up to kneel straight and my head protested the movement, everything swimming in front of my eyes.
“Please, God,” I pleaded, feeling faint, but it didn’t stop the blood from rushing from my head.
The last thing I saw was the small dark pool of blood on the wood where I’d bent over. Blood that had come from me.
From our baby.
“Ash…” His name was a feeble prayer on my lips as the world tipped to the side and I fell off the cliff of consciousness into a sea of black.
Ash
Stones sprayed behind my truck as I pulled out of the drive and tested the limited of the aging engine as I headed for town. Driving away from the house… from Taylor… felt like I’d been detoured the wrong way down a one-way street.
Larry was gone.
Tay was having my baby.
Mine.
Actually fucking mine.
I dug my phone from my pocket and dialed Eve’s number.
“Hello?” Her water-logged voice answered, and I knew Eli must’ve already told her about Larry.
“Eve, can you do me a favor?” I grated into the line.
“A-Ash? Did you hear about—”
“Please,” I cut her off. “I know, but I need you to go to my house and check on Tay.”
Her grief choked. “Taylor? Is she okay?”
My throat constricted. I didn’t know. “Please,” I begged. “Can you just go see her now?”
I couldn’t be there. Not now. Not as the fragile foundation I built here began to flitter away like paper in the wind. But I also couldn’t let her be there alone.
“O-Of course. Are you—”
“Thank you,” I said because I wasn’t okay, and then I hung up with a bitter laugh, letting the hot tears I felt shame me even further.
I wasn’t okay, and I still couldn’t believe it.
I’d fucked the one woman who I’d fantasized about my entire life… and I didn’t even remember it.
What. A. Fucking. Asshole.
I slammed my hand against the steering wheel.
Of all the things I’d done while intoxicated—including almost ruining my sister’s life—this… well, if it didn’t take the cake, it certainly came close.
I slept with Taylor.
One time.
Her fucking first time and I’d taken that from her. While drunk.
I got her pregnant and then left for the other side of the country.
When I looked up and noticed the road in front of me, I realized I was veering off down Larry’s drive, not even
bothering with a blinker.
Why was I here? I wondered as I pulled by the police barriers and caution tape, ignoring the looks I got from the cops.
My hands gripped the wheel, all of my demons joining forces for one last attack. My forehead dropped onto my knuckles and I cursed myself up and down.
My gaze whipped up. I knew why I was here. I wanted answers. Answers from the man who’d always had them. Why he’d left. And why, by leaving, he’d let me remember.
Then, I was out of the truck and storming toward Larry’s front door, my feet crunching over the overgrown weeds coming through the path as I ducked under the tape. The house looked like it belonged to a man who’d died years ago instead of hours; the thought made my stomach turn.
It was wrong to come here angry—to come here needing one more thing from a dead man—but I didn’t know where else to turn.
What if this was it? The last mistake. The one I couldn’t come back from.
The one that was one too many.
“Sir, this is a crime scene—”
A dagger to the eye would have had more finesse than the look I shot the cop with as his hand came up, just barely stopping in time before it smacked into my chest.
“I’m family,” I ground out. It was more truth than lie and I didn’t care what anyone had to say about it.
“He’s good, Dan.” Eli appeared in the doorway, his face drawn and ashen.
The officer moved to the side, giving me a nod.
With a low growl, I stepped around him and into Larry’s house. I coughed to mask the choked sounds that tried to escape my chest. It was the most painful kind of déjà vu. I had just been here. In this hall. At that table. Looking out those windows.
And Larry had, too.
“You shouldn’t have come,” Eli stated, looking even less pleased to see me.
“I had to.” Just like I had to apologize at some point for choking him on my doorstep last night, but not now.
I pushed by my grieving friend into the house.
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