by Abby Gale
I shake my head and try to stop the growing feelings I’m beginning to have for him, I know it won’t end well since he already has his own demons to deal with. He really doesn’t need to add me into the mixture.
I try to be quick with my shower, but as warm water works its wonder to my body, I take my time instead. When I get out of the shower, I wear the grey sweatpants with a white t-shirt. I pull them as tight as I can then put on the grey sweater over it to cover my breasts.
~*~
Ashton is in the living room, sitting in front of the fireplace with the distant look upon his face. He doesn’t even notice me coming into the room. His knees are bent in front of him, his eyes are focused on the fire as he sips from the bottle in his hand. The fire makes shadows on his face. I decide to sit on the couch at the furthest corner of the room, not having the heart to bother him in his peaceful bubble. But as he must sense me, he turns to look at me, patting the big pillow next to him.
I sat down next to him, and he grabbed another bottle from the other side of him, extending it to me. This silence was different than the one when he tried to ignore me. This time he was accepting me in his own bubble; this time we are both content in our silence.
I took a big sip from my beer and watched him as he watched the fire. They both looked dangerous but hypnotizing at the same time, I couldn’t take my eyes away from him. Our eyes locked when he turned to look at me. My breath hitches in my throat; my mouth was suddenly dry. Clearing my throat, I look away to the fire. They say fire is dangerous, but at the moment, the man sitting next to me could cause a lot more damage that those flames; it looked less dangerous for my heart than the man sitting next to me.
I feel his eyes on me as I kept watch on the fire, I didn’t want to meet his eyes; I don’t trust my reaction. Especially after a taste of alcohol.
“Are you okay?” he asks with a low voice. His voice deep, intense just like everything about him.
I gulp down the rest of the bottle before answering, “Mm, I’m alright.”
I wait for him to answer even though I know he won’t. I catch a glimpse of him nodding his head before turning my body toward him.
“I’m sorry, Ashton,” I say after a moment of silence.
He frowns. “For what?”
“For being a problem for you. I know you came here for some kind of peace and I’m just an unnecessary burden to you.” I say, playing with the silver bracelet on my wrist.
I look up, confused, when he says, “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Writing yourself off like you’re not more important than my peace because you are.”
I gasp, tears well up in my eyes. I have never felt important for anyone after losing my parents. There was only Toby, but he was always there with me since we were kids. But now hearing Ashton say something like that… I sighed.
Who would have guessed he could have said something as sweet as that?
He’s easily drawing out emotions from me like no one else could before, making me a ball of feelings even with only his one look.
“I need another drink,” I said and leaned down to grab the whiskey bottle I saw on his other side, but the pillow slips under me, making me fall right into Ashton’s arms.
My hands are on his hard chest for balance, the heat from his body radiated through me, making me dizzier than any alcohol is able too. My eyes are moving back and forth between his eyes and his mouth. His lips part with the breath he takes. My hands move on their own accord, I slowly caress his beard covered cheek, it’s soft and ticklish at the same time; I want to feel it on my cheeks, my neck, and so much more.
Closing my eyes, and breathe in his scent, he smells like wood, rain, and ice as much as fire. His smell is intoxicating, it’s ingrained itself into my mind; I know I will never forget this scent: him.
We breathed in on another. Our lips inches apart, but not touching and I don’t know why but it is so much hotter than any kiss can be like we are at the line that will ruin or rescue us… and I’m willing to cross that line if he is, too. The consequences can fuck themselves, the fact that we don’t know each other well enough can shut the hell up.
I open my eyes so I can see him, but his eyes are closed with a painful expression on his raw and beautiful face.
“You don’t have to,” I whisper, and he opens his eyes almost like he is waking up from a trance. I expect him to pull back, but he doesn’t; he continues to look into my eyes with the same intensity.
Leaning into him I let my lips touch his, almost like a whisper and pull back with a smile.
“Goodnight, Ashton,” I whispered and go to lie down on the couch which is my bed right now.
Closing my eyes, I give him the privacy to school his thoughts and his emotions. After a few minutes, just as I’m drifting off to sleep, I feel his soft caress on my hair. I stay as still as I can until I hear him leave the room, then I’m met with the confusing dreams.
~*~
I wake up, panting, and covered in sweat by the nightmare of dark alleys and heavy footsteps. I reach for my phone to see the time - three in the morning. The fire has almost gone. I walk toward the kitchen, filling a glass with water. My eyes wander to the fridge and get stuck to the letters on it as I sip my water: Help him…
“What?” I whispered to myself, but a feeling inside me force my feet to move.
When I reach the hallway, I see the light under one of the doors. It’s not his bedroom, and he didn’t tell me which room this was when he gave me a small tour of the Cabin this afternoon.
I took a few small steps and listened carefully. I would walk by if I didn’t hear his voice, mumbling some things that ended with sobs. I pushed the door open, not even caring if he kicked me out. He was on his knees; his shoulders were shaking uncontrollably.
I rushed to his side, kneeling next to him. “Ashton? Ashton, look at me,” I urged, taking his face in my hands.
His eyes are bloodshot. I hugged him close to me, letting him rest his head on my shoulder as I looked around at my surroundings. The room was covered in pictures, the photos of the same girl.
Is this the April he keeps moaning about in his sleep?
There are also other objects in the room - movies, books, a notebook that looked like a diary.
“Shh… I’m here. You’re okay… you’ll be okay,” I whispered, caressing his hair as he held onto me like a scared child would.
“Wanna talk about it?” I whispered softly.
“I lost her,” he chokes. “I loved her, no, I still love her...but we were too late, too proud.”
“Shh…” I keep caressing his hair, his back. His pain is too much I feel my eyes well up with tears.
I look at the photos on the wall. She is beautiful. Her smile is contagious, I smile at her as tears fell from my eyes.
“She would want you to be happy, Ashton. Don’t let her see you like this. Don’t let her feel your pain, please. Don’t upset her by upsetting yourself.” My voice is still a whisper, I’m afraid of talking louder than that.
I want to respect this sacred place he’s put in place to memorialize the beautiful soul that captured this man’s, heart. He leans back enough to look into my eyes, his arms are still wrapped around me.
“I’m afraid of forgetting her,” he murmurs.
“You won’t forget her.”
“But it doesn’t feel like it. How can I live my life like nothing happened? How can I talk and laugh when she can’t? How can I take someone into my life again, Acacia?”
The look on his eyes makes me gasp. I don’t know if he means taking me in his life, but no matter what he means this is not fair to him.
I leaned closer to him, our lips are an inch apart, but he doesn’t move away. He keeps looking into my eyes with that same strange, intense look. His eyes wander to my lips and back up a few times.
I let my lips graze his, “You’re not betraying her.” I tell him as I caress his hair. “You can’t die along with her
. You have your life to live, you’re still here.”
He leans into me; our first kiss is the most innocent thing two adults could share. It is like two kids placing their lips on one another in a childish way, but he breaks the contact, shaking his head.
“I can’t do this. No… I can’t, I’m sorry,” he mumbles.
“Ashton, that’s okay. Go to bed and get rest… please?” I stand up, reaching out my hand for him to take. After a few seconds, he sighs and holds my hand.
Our hands stay connected as I walked him to his bedroom. I watched as he took off his shirt and got inside his bed, that moment I decided to go back to the living room but he stops me.
“Stay… please.”
I stopped and turned to him, he was staring back at me. I closed my eyes as I school my emotions. I did as he asked and I went to him, sat down and slowly lied down next to him. He cuddled me into his chest.
If he kicks me out in the morning for having a weak moment…then so be it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
APRIL
I don’t know if I can cry. I can’t feel the tears, but if I could I know I’d be crying right now.
Why?
I don’t know.
I’m confused.
I’m happy, and I’m sad at the same time.
I’m relieved as much as I am jealous.
How stupid is this?
Why didn’t these feelings leave me when I died?
Isn’t that what death is supposed to be? All emotions, all the burdens that weight on your shoulders dies with you? But like all the other things in my life even my death seems different somehow.
I watched them with my departed heart, but that doesn’t stop the pain in me. I should have been the one he hugs, he caresses, and he kisses. I should be the one who helps him when he is down, but I’m the one who breaks him, and she’s the one who can help him. I am not. He deserves to be happy, he needs to let me go and deserves to live his life.
I want him to smile again with the smile I fell in love with at first glance. I want him to care for someone like he cared for me. I want him to love again like he loved me.
And I want him to be loved… just like the way, I loved him, and I will forever love him.
So, I smile…
I smile for losing my love in front of my very eyes.
I smile because I want him to fall for another woman and I try to hug myself just to save myself from shattering to pieces.
I smile when I hear him say he wants her to stay.
And I smile as I leave them alone in the same bed… where I should have been.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ASHTON
Without waking up Acacia I slide from the bed, feeling like shit. The regret and confusion are messing with my head. It’s not fair on Acacia, but I can’t stand to look at her right now. She is the reason why I feel so much regret. She is also the reason why I’m thinking less and less about April each day.
Yet, I keep leading her on. I keep sending her mixed signals. I keep letting her feelings grow for me.
What did I do? What kind of a bastard I am for leading her on like that?
I look at the fridge, kind of hoping to see another message on it, but there is nothing this time.
Why would it be? If April is writing those messages, then she would have left me after everything I did yesterday. She would hate me, I’m sure.
I put my hands on the countertop as the pain wrecks my body. This is even worse than watching her die; this is like losing her all over again. I can’t breathe, and I can’t think.
All I feel is regret and anger… at myself, at Acacia. I dial the number to find out if the road is open and sigh in relief when I get the info I’m hoping for. I shouldn’t have let her into my house. I shouldn’t have let myself care. Now, I’ll drop her off at her house and forget about her.
I hear soft footsteps, but I can’t look to see her face.
I hear her chirpy voice, “Good mo-” but she doesn’t continue, and when she talks again, her voice is upset. “I’ll leave.”
I should look at her face, I should explain what’s wrong and why I’m feeling like this, but I can’t. I should be grateful to her for providing me with some kind of comfort and friendship, for caring for me as all I ever seem to do is be an asshole to her, but instead, I walk toward the living room and grab my keys.
“I can call a cab.”
“I’ll drive,” I tell her without looking at her.
I’m a fucking douche!
She walks around the room to gather her things without talking to me, and that only makes me feel worse, but I don’t know what I can do when all I feel is this fucking regret weighing down on me like I did something bad, and it’s burning through my soul.
I promised April I would never forget her yet only weeks later my thoughts are occupied with someone else. I don’t deserve to be loved… especially not by a great woman like Acacia. She can do better than me. She deserves better.
She follows me to the car and gets in the passenger seat. She is the one who avoids eye-contact now. Her face is lined toward the window during the drive. The journey is packed with tension and sadness, all because of me. She doesn’t look at me once all the way back, I did that, and I hate it.
When I finally pull up in front of her apartment, I sigh heavily, “Acacia?” I whisper.
I see her wipe away tears from her eyes and curse myself more. I don’t expect her to look at me, but she does. I’m expecting to see that hard look on her face, but instead, when she turns her head, she looks at me with her beautiful blue eyes, now pooled with unshed tears full of sadness and sorrow.
“Thank you for everything,” she whispers, and before I can stop myself, I pull her toward me.
I wrapped my arms around her – it feels so natural, but the contradictory feelings inside me stop me doing more.
“I’m sorry, Acacia. I’m so sorry,” I choked.
Her hand reaches for my face, and she pets my beard like I’m the one who needs to be reassured or to be consoled.
“Take care of yourself,” she whispers and gets out of the truck without a second glance at me.
“Fuck!” I hit the steering wheel and take off onto the road.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Why didn’t she shout at me? Why didn’t she fight with me?
It would be so much easier for me to deal with her anger than her silent treatment. Her understanding hurts me more than her words or fists would do.
~*~
The cabin feels different without her somehow, she left her marks all over the place in just two days, and now they are haunting me. I didn’t know how lonely I used to feel before she came into my life. I didn’t know how the grief I felt was taking pieces away from my soul, but now I do.
I walked to the kitchen, deciding to prepare myself something to eat even though I don’t feel like it, but the message on the fridge stops me: Don’t…
Don’t what, April? Don’t forget you? Don’t hurt her? Don’t be an asshole?
I hit the cabinet with my fist because of the confusion, anger, and all the other emotions frustrating me. I go back to the living room and sit in front of the fireplace. Noticing the whiskey is still where I left it last night, I grabbed it and gulped down as much as I could. I enjoyed the burn as it lined my throat and slithered inside me.
I have to kill this asshole of a person that is living inside me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ACACIA
I stood at the lobby door of my apartment block and waited for the truck to drive off. It doesn’t pull off straight away, but I fight the urge to turn back for another glimpse of him. Instead, I ran up to the first floor, to my apartment, tears streaming down my face. I got through the front door picked up my mail from the floor and placed them on the table by the door.
While walked through the apartment I stripped my clothing off piece by piece - like stripping layers from my body because that’s how I feel.
Co
mpletely stripped bare.
I set the shower to the hottest setting I can stand and let the water rain over me, taking my tears with it down the drain. I couldn’t get his pained look out of my mind, his shuddering shoulders from his sobbing early this morning. I just want to help him.
How can I help him if he won’t let me in?
Once I’ve cried all my tears, for Ashton, for my attack, for losing my parents; every event that has taken place in my life, a cleansing of the soul they call it - I take in a refreshing long breath in through my nose and blew it out slowly.
~*~
Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a towel around me and head for my bedroom to get dressed. After I dress in jeans and a sweater, I head to the kitchen to make coffee and some toast then sit down for a while until it’s time for work. Picking up my magazine from the table, I flick through it, but I can’t concentrate, my thoughts go straight back to Ashton again.
Why does everything come back to him?
He doesn’t want me, I have to deal with that.
I slam down the magazine with more force than necessary and take my plate and cup to the kitchen. Leaving them in the sink, I grab my coat and bag and make my way to work. I know I’m going to get a grilling today from Toby for not telling him everything in the text yesterday but I’m prepared, I think.
The cab pulls up on the lot at the back of the bar and I get out of the car, but my steps falter… I look towards the alley as all memories flood back, my hands shake as I push them into the pockets of my jeans.
Be brave Sia!
Pulling my bag further up onto my shoulder, I drop my eyes to the floor and walk past as quickly as I can. I don’t think of myself as timid, I haven’t been since I lost my parents, I had to grow up and learn how to stand on my own two feet, I survived that; I’ll survive this too.
After a quick check that my car is still where I parked it I keep walking. To walk this way is another ten minutes on my time so I think I may have to find somewhere else to park my car from now on.
