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Maybe Silas is right… Believing that I was more than a rebound was a pipe dream. For once, I honestly thought I had a shot at something meaningful.
It was too much, too soon, too perfect… It wasn’t meant to last; I’m not cut out for relationships. That’s not how I roll. I was a means to an end. Ash left Alex, and I entertained him for a while, but his brain is wired for darker kinks than I’ll ever be able to provide. Proof is, my lover isn’t fighting for us. And here I thought that we’d conquered his ghosts from the past. All of them… I’m such a moron! He’s such a traitor! We’re such a disappointment!
I growl at the realization.
Yeah, it was never meant to last…
Remaining oblivious to the asshole, I address Ash. “You know what,timal? Your silence speaks volumes. I guess the fucker’s right. You’re not going anywhere. You two deserve each other. We’re done.”
Before I take my next breath, I’m sprinting in the opposite direction, leaving the despicable view behind. There’s only one thing left to do.
Move on.
CHAPTER28
HAPPINESS
Ash
Ihit the button again, hoping to have better success this time. “Pick up. Please, pick up...” I don’t recognize the pleading voice that’s barely a murmur…
I blankly stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and note the dark circles under my eyes, courtesy of my sleepless night. Coughing lightly, I turn on the faucet and down a small Dixie cup before splashing some water on my paper-white face.
Damn, I look like shit!
I wipe my face on a towel, then trudge back to the couch, where I’ve been spending the last twelve hours sulking and scolding myself for allowing Silas to screw up my sanity yet again. When I returned to an empty house yesterday night, I refused to sleep in the bed. I couldn’t bear the thought of his side of the bed being cold; my unique connection to Nino is now as broken as my spirit.
My boneless body slides between the coffee table and the couch. I ignore the pounding headache that’s threatening to take residence inside my overthinking head. It doesn’t come as a shock, considering how many tears I’ve wept.
The last few ounces of rum left in the bottle located on the coffee table help me to swallow the remnants of my pride; I wonder if I could have drunk the entire bottle by myself… Thankfully, it had already been half-empty. Hard liquor isn’t my forte, but I gladly joined Nino whenever he found an excuse to celebrate. My man can certainly hold his liquor much better than I can.
My man… Where the hell are you? Why couldn’t you wait for me to explain?
I don’t have the energy to stow the empty bottle under the kitchen sink until I recycle it, so I leave it next to my phone on the glass coffee table. I stare at the damn thing for God knows how long, in hopes that Nino will give me a sign. Any sign. To no avail.
What have I done?
Eventually, I snag it, scroll through my contacts, and put the phone on speaker.
“’Sup, cuz?” Tom’s voice is more gravelly than usual, clear proof that I woke him up. I shiver and hug my knees for comfort. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ash… It’s not even 7 am! This had better be important.” There’s shuffling on the other end of the line, followed by yawning and a loud grunt. I open my mouth to speak, but the words get stuck. “Be grateful that Eve isn’t crashing here and I forgot to put airplane mode on. I’m listening.”
Tears roll down my cheeks before I’m able to stop them. Those who claim that boys don’t cry are just a bunch of wannabe tough guys.
Guess what? Crying is a natural human thing to do, and I’m human.
However, I didn’t expect to be a speechless mess. It’s a striking difference from the perfect mess that Nino and I made a week ago.
“Ashton? You there?” He mustn’t have heard the sound of me crying.
A bitter laugh finds its way through my cracked lips that I’ve bitten all night long, to the point of drawing blood. “Yeah. Barely.” I hiccup. “I need... Sorry, I just…” My stuffy nose betrays my crying, although it has slowed… for now. “I need to talk.”
“Wow, this sounds pretty bad.” Tom seems to have a sixth sense whenever I’m involved. “Listen, I’m on my way to your place right now. Don’t do anything foolish, you hear me? Stay with me, okay?”
Every breath burns my insides. I deserve the state that I am in. “O-kay,” I articulate, partially mocking his concern, which isn’t nice since I called him for support. In truth, speaking hurts. Everything aches. Most of all, my heart. With great difficulty, I eventually manage to reassure him as I hear rustling on the other end of the line. “I’ll be fine.”
“Ashton, you are obviouslynotfine. I’ll be there in fifteen if traffic is light. Donothang up on me, you hear me?”
“I hear you.” I squeeze my knees harder until pain shoots through my body. Pain is my friend when it’s requested, consensual, or welcome. This is the latter, unlike the kind that ripped my heart out when my eyes met Nino’s last night. “Relax, I’m not suicidal.”
