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I don’t know what it was that triggered the mountain of grief that suddenly leaped onto my shoulders. I tried to process it while standing at the window of the huge spare bedroom I slept in last night. A stranger’s bed, a stranger’s ring on my finger, a stranger’s curse. And yet, honestly, it wasn’t so bad. I actually had a great sleep—one of the best I’ve had in ages.
I watched Ash’s cousins and brother leave out the front door. I guess maybe it was the way everyone kept looking at each other in the living room. There was some pretty clear emotion there. They might all be assholes or related to an asshole who is related to the assholes at the top, but the love they share was more than evident. All I felt, up on that coffee table, was the sharp pain of being the girl who didn’t fit in again—the girl who was lost in her own life. I was right back to my thirteen-year-old self, learning how to start her life all over again after two huge losses.
I’ve been trying to keep it together for a long time. My grandpa died of a brain tumor, then a few years later, my mom was diagnosed with the same thing. My mom hung on for a year, but when she died, the pain of losing her as well was too much for my grandma, and she had a heart attack within two weeks of my mom’s funeral. My dad, on the other hand, is estranged from his parents, so he never talks to them, and my aunts and uncles just kind of drifted away. They didn’t know what to say or how to help us. It was a common trend. The newspaper was the only thing keeping my dad going. When he lost that, too, he kind of just climbed into this black hole.
A soft knock at the door surprises me. I figured Ash would leave me alone since it was pretty clear I wanted to be, and not having to deal with me is likely a relief for him. He follows his knock with my name, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out what the shiver crawling up my spine at his soft tone is.
A shiver of stupidity, no doubt.
I walk over to the door, undo the lock, and pull it open. I can’t hide in here forever. I remember, too late, that my face is full of dried tears, snot, and other less than appealing things. Ash blinks at me, stunned.
I swipe at my cheeks, surprised to find them still damp. “Wow,” I mutter. “I must look like a mess.”
He doesn’t shut the door, but he does take a step forward. I retreat again, but he keeps coming. Finally, I stop, and so does he, and we just stare at each other. I know my gaze is probably burning with a whole lot of hot accusations and dislike, but his gaze is just blank. Like he doesn’t know where to go from here.
Honestly, at the moment, with his jaw not clenched, his blue eyes so pale and tired-looking, and more than a shadow of dark stubble on his cheeks, he doesn’t seem so much like an asshole. Not very much like an asshole at all…
Maybe that’s just my brain. It’s summoning up strange sensations because I’m emotionally exhausted. Or perhaps it’s the ring manipulating my brain to send bad signals. Honestly, I have to blame the terrible connection on something, and when I do a double-take and drag my eyes over Ash’s broad shoulders, his thick toned abs that can be seen through his soft t-shirt, and jeans that fit him sinfully well, my faulty brain seems like the best idea.
I have to remind myself that spontaneous ovulation is not a thing.
“Are you okay?” Ash’s voice is deep, and it makes something in my insides quiver.
My eyes rise to his face. I’m too tired to blush at the fact that I was just perusing him like he’s a billboard made to be stared at. “Why? Do I not look okay?”
That earns me a twitch of Ash’s lips. Lips which I know for a fact, do not feel like kissing an asshole. Those lips on mine felt pretty good. He shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair nervously.
“Right. Well, what if I’m just practicing reverse psychology, and this is my happy face?”
“It’s not. I do understand basic human emotion, no matter what you might think. There is no mistaking the scathing looks you send my way. I know you don’t like me. If I met my fiery demise falling into a flaming pit of doom right here, I think it would suit you just fine.”
“Yeah, I’d probably be delighted.” I can’t keep a resting bitch face up. I have to crack just a little.
