CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ashlyn
It’s Saturday night, and my mom has forced me to come home from the hospital and have a night off. When I’m not working, I’m at the hospital. I didn’t want to leave Seb, but it’s been five weeks since Taylor’s accident, and I’m exhausted, but I know Seb must be too. He hasn’t left her side since she was admitted, and I feel guilty for coming home and leaving him.
The past couple of weeks have been a rollercoaster of emotions with Taylor suffering a second bleed and needing surgery again, to Sophie going into labor and giving birth to a beautiful baby boy. I’m so pleased for Sophie and Cade after everything they’ve been through, but I’m heartbroken for Taylor, knowing she’s missing it all. The doctors want her to be a little stronger before they attempt to wake her up, but I know after what Ben endured with his wife, there are no guarantees with a head injury.
It’s only just after eight, but I’m in bed. I’m tired, but I can’t sleep. My phone chimes on the nightstand with an incoming message, and I throw off the comforter as I reach across, snatching it up. Nerves erupt in my stomach at the thought that it might be Seb with bad news. When I see Ben’s name on the screen, there are still nerves, but for a different reason. I haven’t seen Ben outside of work since he came to the hospital shortly after Taylor was admitted. Things at work are a bit awkward. We’re both keeping it professional, even though it’s not easy. He messages me every day, and even with everything being so complicated between us, I still miss him.
Ben: Hey, Ash. How are things?
I’ve wanted to call him, to ask him to come to the hospital, especially when Paisley has Nash and Sophie has Cade. I just wanted him to hold me and tell me everything would be okay. I know it’s selfish, especially when Seb doesn’t have that support right now, but even in a hospital full of people, I’ve never felt more alone. Still, I didn’t call him. This must be difficult enough for him having gone through something similar with his wife. He doesn’t need me breaking down on him too.
Me: Hey, Ben. Tay’s still the same. It feels like a nightmare that’s never going to end.
My phone rings in my hand, and my stomach flips when his name flashes on the screen.
“Hello,” I say, answering the call.
“Hey, Ash. It sounds like you’re having a tough night. Why didn’t you call me? I’d have come over.”
I shrug, even though he can’t see me. “You’ve been through this once, Ben. I can’t put you through it again.”
He sighs. “I want to be there for you. I care about you.”
“I know,” I whisper, choking back tears.
“Are you crying?” I can hear the concern in his voice, and it makes me cry more. I want him here so badly, even if I have no idea what’s happening between us.
“I’m okay,” I lie. I take a deep breath to try and pull myself together.
“Are your brothers with you? Or your parents?”
“I’m not at the hospital,” I tell him. “My mom made me come home for the night.”
“So, you’re home alone?”
“Yes.”
“I’m coming over.”
“No, Ben. I’m okay, really.”
“I’m coming. I’ll be there in twenty.” The tears fall again, and I can’t catch my breath. “Ash, are you still there?” he asks when I don’t say anything.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
“I won’t be long, baby.”
He ends the call, and I collapse back onto the bed, completely overwhelmed by my emotions for him. After hours of sitting in the hospital waiting room, I’ve had plenty of time to replay in my mind what he told me weeks ago at Taylor’s apartment. We need to talk, but with everything going on, the timing never seems right.
I look a mess, despite showering and washing my hair when I got home. I should probably change, but I just don’t have the energy for it. Ben already saw me looking rough when Taylor was admitted to the hospital, so he’ll have to take me as I am.
Twenty minutes later, the intercom buzzes. As I pass the mirror in the entryway, I catch a glimpse of my frizzy, air-driedhair and regret not at least tying it up. But it’s too late now. I shift nervously from foot to foot after buzzing Ben in, eagerly waiting for his knock on the door. When it finally comes, I swing the door open, and all the air leaves my lungs as I take in his appearance. He’s wearing black skinny jeans and a white T-shirt that clings to his broad chest, his tanned arms bulging out of the sleeves. I know all too well how those arms feel around me, and I can’t stop my eyes from scanning over him, my cheeks flushing with heat when he clears his throat, snapping me out of my daze.
“Hi,” I whisper, seeing a smile pulling on his lips before I drop my eyes to the ground and step to one side. “Come in.”
He brushes past me as he walks in, and my senses are overwhelmed by the familiar, woodsy scent of his cologne. I close the door and turn to face him.
