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What? That fast? Ashton’s father was dead?
I gripped Ash’s hand, and he held mine back fiercely.
“You ok?” I whispered, not knowing what else to say.
He shrugged, looking out of the window as we drove.
Shit, I didn’t know what to do.
So, I unbuckled myself and slipped closer, buckling into the middle seat instead to offer comfort with my body, since I seemed to be out of words. I circled my arms around his waist and he took me into him, wrapping me in his own embrace. We sat like that until we made it back to the hospital.
It was a quiet procession up the elevator and to a room. No monitors beeped, though the room was filled with them, and there weren’t any needles in the man’s arm on the bed. That sight itself was odd.
Looking at the man laying there, I realized that I was staring at a dead body. I’d never seen a dead body before, not even at a funeral.
Felicity let out a long, gut wrenching wail as she fell to her knees by him, pounding her fist into the man’s thigh.
“Damn you, damn you,” she cried. “You selfish bastard! You couldn’t even stick around long enough to make things right with your boy?”
That felt like a ridiculous claim, but I was sure that I was missing some really important pieces to the puzzle, so I shut my mouth and held Ash’s hand.
He stiffened up, muscles clenching beside me as Felicity continued to wail. Woodrough took a few steps forward and took Felicity into his arms, staring the man on the bed down like he hated him before murmuring soft, soothing words to the woman.
“It’s alright, Mom. Look at them. The family’s together again now. Focus on that.”
So he was her son.
I opened my mouth to say…something…when all of a sudden Ashton was gone, flying out the door.
Felicity called after him, but I didn’t stick around to find out what she wanted. I ran after my boyfriend.
“Ash!” I huffed as I followed him, because man, he could move quick for a guy who’d practically had his leg blown off.
He paused by the elevator for just a second, but apparently it was taking too long, because he chose to use the stairs instead.
“Ashton!” I yelled this time, letting my frustration filter into my voice. “You’ve got to stop!”
And he did.
He whipped around with rage in his eyes, but it didn’t seem directed at me.
“That fucking asshole just died,” he growled, pointing back up the half flight of stairs we’d just come from. “I don’t know what I was expecting coming out here. Something. Closure, maybe. Instead, I looked at his face and got nothing besides bad memories and anger stirring back up in my gut. I hate him, and him dying makes me hate him even more. I never got to tell him how much he hurt me, hurt Mom, or how much I couldn’t give a single shit about him. Now he’s just gone and…what the fuck is the point?”
“The point is—” I started, taking his fisted hands in mine. “The point is that you came. The point is, that you are more of a man then he ever dreamed he could be. Despite everything, you showed up. He knows that, and your mother knows that. She’d be proud of you, being here for this. As terrible as he was, your mom loved him. There had to be something good in him for her to love him, Ash. And I can tell you right now, that anything good that he had, you have a hundred times that. You did the right thing, and now that he’s gone, you can let it off your conscience.”
“That bastard was never on my conscience,” he told me, voice low and not nearly as angry anymore. “And you’re right about that. Mom would’ve wanted me to come; to be here when he died.Even if I wasn't at his bedside. Hell, I'm glad I wasn't at his bedside when he kicked the bucket. I would've done something I’d have regretted.”
I nodded and his hands loosened in my grip.
“I love you,” he said, sounding strained, like he was on his best behavior for me.
I leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss, just a simple lips to lips. I hoped he could feel my attempt to bolster him, lending him my strength to get through this really sucky moment.
He inhaled me, his hand lifting to dig into the hair at the back of my head before his mouth left me and his forehead rested against mine.
“I couldn’t do this without you,” he breathed, eyes squeezed closed in agony.
“You don’t have to. You’re welcome.”
