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I’d asked him to play his guitar for me.
More specifically, I’d asked that he play me the song he’d written for me after the night of our first date.
He’d said no a few times, along with mumbling several self-deprecating remarks that he wasn’t any good— remarks I’d let go in order to avoid an argument— until he’d finally reluctantly agreed and left the bed to get his guitar.
Along the way, he’d muttered something under his breath about how if charm were a superhero power, I’d rule the world.
“Really, I suck,” Ash sighed as he climbed onto the bed and settled the guitar case next to him.
“Better than anyone I know, baby,” I said with a cheeky grin, which had Ash shaking his head.
And smiling.
God, I lived for his smile.
“I don’t have the song,” he said as he flipped the latches on the case open. “I’m not sure I remember everything.”
“Problem solved,” I responded as I reached into my nightstand to pull out the paper with the lyrics on it.
Ash took the well-worn paper from me and studied it for a long time. His eyes shifted to me, and I knew that he’d figured out what all the slight wrinkles and imperfections in the paper meant.
That I’d read it many times.
He had no idea.
I’d become as obsessed with the song as I had with his journal when I’d first read it. But for entirely different reasons. On the one hand, I’d wanted to know what it had meant for our relationship that he’d done something so personal as writing a song for me. But he’d also given me permission to feel something I hadn’t ever been allowed to before. That it was okay to let go of my brother because he was still with me. And although it hadn’t eased the nightmares in any kind of way, having those words to cling to after each one of the bad dreams had been like having Ash next to me, whispering them into my ear.
Telling me it was okay to let go.
That Danny was safe wherever he was.
Ash settled the paper on the bed in front of him and opened his guitar case. He stilled as his eyes settled on the instrument and his smile faded away. I looked to see what had him so entranced and noticed there was a light blue envelope sitting on top of the guitar. Ash stared at it like he’d never seen it before.
“Ash?” I said softly.
He tore his eyes from the envelope, but didn’t say anything. He’d gone pale.
“What is it?” I asked as I motioned to the envelope. Maybe it was from his ex? The idea had acid rolling in my belly. “Is it from Billy?” I managed to say.
“What?” Ash murmured as he glanced at the envelope again, then reached for it with shaky fingers. “Um, no, it’s not… no, it’s nothing like that. I forgot I kept it in here. It must have fallen out of the pocket.” He turned it over, revealing his name and an unfamiliar address on the front. It was hard to make out the return address, but I could see the words Organ Sharing on it. The curiosity was killing me, but I remained silent. If it was something Ash wanted to share with me, he would.
He was quiet for so long that I was sure he was just going to call off this whole thing. I was already trying to figure out ways to cajole him into forgetting the upsetting moment and playing the guitar for me, when he sighed and said, “It’s from my donor’s family.”
My gaze fell to the envelope. “They sent you a letter?”
“They sent it to UNOS— that’s the organization that handles organ donation— and they sent it to me. I… I wasn’t ready to let them give my name out to the donor family, but I said the letter was okay.”
“Did you read it?” I asked.
He nodded. “Once. When it came a little over a year ago.”
“What was that like?” I reached out to run my fingers up and down his arm as I asked the question.
“Hard,” he admitted. “Really hard.” He settled the envelope between us and stared at it like it was something he was trying to make sense of. “I couldn’t finish it… I was crying too hard.”
If he hadn’t been looking at the thing like he was, I would have gently steered him back to tonight’s original goal with a joke about how I’d be inclined to reward him with sexual favors if he played the guitar for me.
But I knew something big was happening for Ash, so I tipped his chin up. I waited until he was focused on me to say, “Do you want to try reading it again?”
He shook his head. “Can’t,” he whispered. “Too hard.”
