by Abby Brooks
I nod, smiling even though my heart is pounding against my ribcage, knocking on my bones as if to tell me to shut the fuck up before I ruin everything. “Yep. It’s fantastic. Floor to ceiling windows so we don’t feel like we’re trapped inside. A rooftop garden for a little bit of greenspace.”
“We?”
“Yep. We.” I intentionally avoid defining just who that word encompasses.
“When?”
“When what?”
Ashley slams the paper towel onto the counter. “When, Jackson? When are you leaving? When were you going to tell me? When did this all become a real thing?”
Her questions take me off guard, mostly because the second one keeps echoing in my head. When are you leaving? Not we. She either hasn’t figured out that coming with me is an option or has already decided I’m not worth following.
I open my mouth, waiting for an answer to fall out, and Ashley continues on her tirade.
“What about the bar? You just bought it. You’re gonna give up on it already?” Ashley swipes the paper towel off the counter and scrubs at her face, peering into the dull reflection of the stainless steel refrigerator.
“I don’t have to run it to own it. I can hire a manager. Aria. You.”
She whirls on me, anger distorting her face. “I thought we were more than this.” She tears at the rubber band holding the clump of hair in place and rakes her fingers through the tangles.
“I did, too.” Disappointment and desperation surge through me. This is not how I intended this conversation to go. I figured she’d resist at first and then come to the realization that when I said we, I meant all of us. That my plans include her. That I want her. That I need her. That she is my forever. My happiness. She is the key to what I’ve been chasing for the last eight years.
I didn’t expect to run up against her rage.
“You know what?” Ashley inhales and releases her breath in one shuddering sigh. “Fuck you, Jackson Moore.”
And with that, she strides out of the kitchen, passes through the living room, and walks straight out the back door towards the ocean. My heart follows her, a balloon on a string, tied to her wrist, destined to bounce along behind her wherever she goes. I stare after her.
I rolled the dice. The chips fell. I gambled.
And I lost.
Chapter Fifteen
I have no words. No thoughts. Just a need to move. A compulsion to be not still. I couldn’t stand there next to him anymore. Not with my heart stuttering around in my chest, a bird dying in its cage. Not with confusion clouding my judgment. Not with tears threatening to fall from my eyes and show him just how weak I actually am.
Nausea boils in my stomach as I stride through the house. I’m propelled by nothing but a desire to be anywhere but here. I hit the beach, my feet faltering in the sand. I don’t turn around to see if he’s following me. I don’t pause or question my decision to leave. I just put one foot in front of the other after the other. I scrape at the clumps of mascara on my eyelashes, certain I look horrific as tears stream down my face, carrying bits of black to mingle with my red-stained lips and face.
Eventually, thoughts make their way through my emotions, but they’re so frazzled and incomplete I can’t make sense of them all. Still in view of the house, close enough for Jackson to see me and come after me if he wants to, grief swipes my legs out from underneath me. I crumple to the sand and stare out at the sea.
The waves rush in, each of them bringing a new set of questions, but mostly, I sit here, angry at myself for believing in something as ridiculous as true love and twin souls. Jackson is broken in ways I can’t fix, set to wander, ever searching for the one thing he thinks he can’t have. And me? I’m just as broken. Destined to fall for men who aren’t capable of loving me, fulfilling the prophecy created by my parents.
The worst thing of all is the hurt. The betrayal. The realization that he could go and plan a life without me, never once letting me know until he’d already finalized the details. He has a place for them to go. And I have nothing.
I take a breath. Let it out. That’s not entirely true.
I have enough money to find myself an apartment. Enough money for a down payment on a car. I have everything I need to start my own life. But without Jackson and Georgia, I have nothing that I want. Everything I desire was just ripped out of me. I have no choice in the matter. I can either stay here, alone. Or go with him.
That thought catches my attention. Go with him. Why am I so set on staying here? What’s so important about raising my family in the same spot I grew up, especially when I had such an ugly childhood? Why can’t I just pick up and build something entirely new with Jackson?
Even as I ask myself the question, fifteen reasons to stay fight back the little surge of hope brought to life by the idea of building a life with Jackson.
For one, I don’t want to run away from the hard stuff. I want to stand my ground and prove to myself that I’m strong enough to withstand whatever life throws at me. Shitty parents? Fine. I’ll be a fantastic mother. Right here where I was so miserable, I’ll build a new set of memories over top of the old ones. Shitty ex-boyfriend? Fine. I’ll pull myself up and smile in the face of it all.
Of course, the important thing to remember here is that it doesn’t matter how many reasons I have to stay. If doesn’t matter how important they are to me or whether I can work through them. Jackson just said he found an apartment. He didn’t ask me to go with him.
Jackson doesn’t want me. That realization settles its cold hands on my heart and starts to squeeze. I can’t just sit here and wonder about what if’s and why not’s anymore. I need to come up with a plan. There will be time for tears later, but now it’s time to pick myself up and move forward. Gather my things and find a place to stay because I’ll be damned if I spend one more night where I’m not wanted.
I stand, swiping at the sand clinging to my jeans, thankful I kept the paper towel balled up in my hands. I wipe away the tears and makeup smearing down my cheeks. Movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention and I turn, hope blossoming in my chest, certain that Jackson has come out to bring me home.
But the man striding towards me isn’t Jackson. It’s Cain.
My arms drop to my side and the paper towel falls from my hand. It hits the sand and gets caught in the wind, rolling back towards the house.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he says as he approaches, snide and sneering until he sees my face. “Jesus, what happened to you?”
“Why do you keep coming back?” I ask through clenched teeth.
Cain studies me, the little glimpse of caring obliterated by my question. “Because I’m allowed to. You’re mine, Ashley. Always have been, always will be. I just keep waiting for it to get through your thick skull.”
“I’m not yours.”
Cain’s eyes widen. “No? You sure?” He takes a step towards me and I stand my ground.
“Very.” I take a deep breath and lift my chin. “Love doesn’t feel like this.”
“I never said anything about love, you dumb bitch.” He lashes out. Grabs my arm and yanks me towards him. His hand covers my mouth and I choke on my scream. “When I was sitting in fucking jail, I realized something, Ashley. Something so simple, I can’t believe I haven’t figured it out just yet.” He squeezes his hand against my mouth and my teeth cut into my lip. “If I can’t have you,” he whispers, his voice low and sinister. “No one will.”
Using the hand he has covering my mouth, he pinches my nose shut and suddenly I’m aware of just how much danger I’m in. I can’t breathe. There is no breath. I struggle and fight, my feet scrabbling for purchase in the sand. A stray thought comes floating through the panic and fear. I never took the time to put on shoes. I’m going to die with bare feet. Alone on the beach, with Jackson close enough to save me if only he cared enough to come after me.
Cain slips in the sand and loosens his grip as he fights for his balance. I let my knees buckle, give him my full weight, counting on
the fact that he’s not ready to support us both. We go down, one on top of the other. His hands fall away from my nose and mouth and I drag in a breath of fresh air and sand. Coughing, blinking as the tiny grains fall into my eyes, I struggle and scream. Somehow, I get out from underneath him. Haul myself to my feet only for him to grab my ankles and pull. I fall, my elbow hitting him in the stomach. His breath whooshes out of him and I get to my knees and stomp on his balls. He cries out, writhing, and I kick sand into his face, blinding him. It goes into his open mouth and he chokes, curled up in a ball at my feet.
I don’t stop to think. I pivot and stumble, desperate to get back to the house. To get back to Jackson. To get back to safety. I catch my balance and whirl, only to see him striding towards me, Georgia in his arms, clinging to his shoulder as he barks orders into his phone.
He stops in front of me, his eyes wide with regret and fear. “Are you okay?” he asks as he lowers Georgia to the ground. She wraps her arms around my legs and I put a trembling hand on top of her head.
“I think so.”
Cain struggles to his feet, coughing and choking and spitting up sand. Jackson tackles, takes him down and hits him once in the face. Once was all it took. Cain goes still.
Chapter Sixteen
The ambulance shows up first and the cops aren’t far behind. They ask their questions and do their tests, but all I can think about is getting Ashley home and safe. When they’re finally done with us, she snuggles into me as I lead her back to the house. I pour us both a drink and pull her into my lap on the couch.
“What now?” she asks after a few moments, her voice barely a whisper against my chest.
“Well, I’m sure after the cops get your statement, that asshole will be heading straight to jail for assault and attempted murder.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She pushes herself up to a sitting position and looks me in the eye. “What now for us?”
I try to pull her back to me. “We don’t have to have this conversation now.”
She stiffens, pulls out of my arms. “But we do. I do. I can’t live in limbo anymore. This week has been hell.”
Georgia’s playing with a stuffed animal on the floor and judging from the way she’s moving, I can tell she’s listening to our conversation. She’s seen enough ugliness today. She doesn’t need anymore. Ashley follows my gaze and bites her lip, nodding.
“It’s fine,” she says, climbing off my lap and avoiding my eyes. “I’m going to go clean up.” And with that, she leaves the room without another word.
When she stormed out of the house, I knew I couldn’t leave Bliss without her. I knew that she’s my everything, that she’s what I’ve been searching for. Not wanting to leave Georgia alone in the house, I waited for her to come back so I could tell her. So I could beg her to come to New York with me or promise to stay here with her. But she never came back.
It wasn’t until I saw her struggling on the beach that I realized it wasn’t just her I’ve been searching for. That she wasn’t the complete answer to all of my questions. It was us. It’s the way we are together. The way we’re the same in all the ways that matter and different enough that we fit together like lock and key. She is soft where I am hard and what we are together is wonderful. I realize I don’t need to go to New York, because maybe all I ever needed was her.
But, as soon as I see the truth in that single, powerful statement, I start to wonder how I could provide for her if we stay here. The bar is profitable now but there’s no promise it will stay that way. And so, I go around and round, driven by my desire to keep her and protect her and the confusion over how to manage to do both at the same time.
Not wanting to wait until Bug goes to sleep, I call my aunt to see if she can take Georgia so Ashley and I can have a real talk.
“I was just going to call you,” she says, her happy voice sounding so out of place in the craziness of the day.
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, listening for any sign of Ashley, desperate to close the gap I sense building between us.
“Yep. Looks like everyone’s coming over tonight, kind of all out of the blue. Thought you and your family might join us.”
My family.
The words cut deep as I realize that’s exactly what we are. I have the one thing I’ve always wanted and I might have just thrown it all away.
“Well,” I say, searching for the right way forward. “I was calling to see if you could take Georgia so Ash and I could talk.” I swallow the rest of the sentence and hope she doesn’t ask questions. I don’t want to admit that we might not be a family anymore.
When she answers, I can hear she read between the lines. Aunt Diane has always had a knack for hearing what you mean over what you say. “Sometimes,” she begins. “When the going gets tough, you can’t just keep going. I want all three of you here. You two can sit on the porch and have your talk, but when it’s done, you’ll come back inside and finish the night with us.”
As awkward as that sounds, hanging out with my cousins after Ashley and I decide the fate of our relationship, there’s no arguing with Aunt Diane. I agree and gather my girls, trying to ignore the sadness in Ashley’s eyes. Diane’s waiting for us when we get there. She gathers Georgia in a hug and tells us we don’t even have to come in. She sends us right around to the back porch where she has two chairs pulled up close to a table with a bottle of wine and two glasses sitting side by side.
“This is a little weird,” Ashley says, staring in through the window.
“A little.” I pour us some wine and pass her a glass.
“Jackson…” Ashley trails off, tears wavering in her eyes and I know without a doubt that she’s setting herself up to say goodbye.
I hold up my hand. “Wait. Can I say something first?”
Ashley nods and shrinks back in her chair, swallowing back what she’d worked herself up to say.
I open my mouth to speak, but the words won’t come out. They’re all tangled up, a big mess of thoughts that all need to be expressed and I’m afraid I’ll say it all wrong and she’ll misunderstand.
“I’m not good at the emotion stuff,” I say. “I know how I feel, but somewhere between my heart and my mouth, everything gets all fucked up.”
Laughter erupts inside the house, muffled but contagious. Ashley and I both smile and try to get a glimpse of what happened through the window.
“It’s like that,” I say.
“Like what?”
“From the moment I moved in with this family, I felt like I was on the outside, trying to figure out why everyone else was so happy. Just like looking through the window here, wondering what the hell they thought was so funny.”
Ashley sighs. “I know. We’ve had this discussion before.”
“Slow your roll, woman.” I smile at her. “I’m not done.” Ashley quirks her head to the side and I take a deep breath. “Here’s what I think I’ve figured out. Right now, if I wanted to find out what was so funny in there, I could drag my ass off the chair, open the door, and ask. I’m only on the outside because I don’t let myself in.”
Ashley’s lips part and her eyes settle on mine.
“I thought I needed to do something major. Make a huge change in who I was so I didn’t become my father. I thought that it was inevitable that I end up like him because I came from him. I looked at my uncle and told myself that I would never rest until I had the things he had. But I’m not my dad. I don’t have to fight to keep from being him because I never was him. And I don’t have to keep running and moving and searching for what I want because I’ve already found it. That’s the tragedy of it all, Sunshine. I found it eight years ago. In you. And then I left, thinking it couldn’t possibly be that simple and I’m about to make the same damn mistake all over again.”
I take a deep breath before continuing. “You. Us. The two of us together. That’s what I need. That’s what I want. We can have all the happiness anyone could ever wish for. Fuck, Ashley. We already have it all. I don’t need to
go anywhere to find it. I just need to open up the damn door and let myself in.”
Ashley opens her mouth and closes it again, trying on a hundred different responses before finally deciding on staying silent.
“I don’t want to go to New York,” I say, desperate to fill the silence. “I hate it there. It’s just safer to run away instead of staying here and opening myself up. Or at least that’s how I always felt.” I roll my eyes at myself. “I’m not running anymore. I want to stay and take a chance on happiness.”
“Are you sure?” It’s the first thing she’s said and her voice is nearly strangled with emotion.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” I stand, wine glass in one hand, offering her the other.
“What are you doing?” she asks, placing her hand in mine.
I pull her up, grab the bottle of wine Aunt Diane left for us, and kiss her on the cheek. “I’m opening up the damn door.”
And with that, I lead her into my uncle’s house, and take a seat with the rest of my family.
Chapter Seventeen
“Lilah?” I poke my head through the door to the storeroom at Fantastic Sam’s, looking for Jackson’s cousin. “What are you doing in here?”
She looks up from where she’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning against a shelf, a bag of open conversation hearts balancing on her pregnant belly. “Sorry,” she says. “I saw them and couldn’t resist. They’re the best thing about Valentine’s day.”
I shake my head. “But they’re really not.” I sit down next to her and pluck one of the chalky candies off her tummy and pop it into my mouth.
“No.” She laughs as I cringe. “They’re really not. I just can’t stop myself. Promise you won’t tell you found me in here like this?”
“I promise no such thing. Your pregnancy cravings are really weird. The family deserves to know.”
“It’s all fine to make fun of me now,” she says, lifting one delicately styled eyebrow. “But you just wait. One day you’ll be the one scarfing down toxic candies on the floor in a storeroom of a bar.”
