But no. The selfish prick had to turn his back on us and walk away for someone else, for another family.
Grabbing my jacket from the end of my bed, I throw it over my shoulder, wincing as every bit of my body aches after being thrown around like a ragdoll and march toward the door.
“Don’t touch me,” I seethe when his hand shoots out in an attempt to support me. “I don’t need you.”
He silently follows me out of the hospital, but I’m forced to stop when I get outside.
The cold hits me but I barely feel it.
My breath clouds around me and I’m reminded of sitting in the car with Mom not so long ago when everything was almost right in my world.
Now?
Now I’m walking out of a hospital and leaving her behind.
Emotion clogs my throat and tears burn my eyes.
She’s gone and it’s all because of me. All because I couldn’t keep my promise to her and stay out of trouble.
I look back at the building, wondering where she is and if she’s finally at peace.
“Ashton?” Dad asks, concern obvious in his tone. But it doesn’t reassure me, make me feel like I’m less alone. All it does is infuriate me. He’s not here because he wants to be, he’s here because he has to be. Because it’s his fatherly duty.
“You can leave now that you’ve signed me out.”
A bitter laugh bubbles up his throat.
“I don’t think so. I’ve already told you, you’re coming home with me.”
“And you seem to be forgetting that this is my home. I belong in Seattle; I live in Seattle.”
We stand staring at each other, the frigid air almost crackling with tension between us.
It never used to be like this between us. He used to be my best friend. But that was then. This is now and he doesn’t get to drag me around like I’m a fucking kid and dictate my life for me.
2
Ruby
“You really should just go home and get it over with,” Harley says, following me to the bathroom in Aces on Monday afternoon.
I know Harley’s right, but just the thought of going home and seeing him makes me want to puke.
Stephen and Ashton flew in this afternoon, by now he should be making himself at home in the room next to mine once more. Only this time, it’s not for a short stay.
He’s moving in.
My mouth waters and my stomach twists. Turning away from Harley, I race into a stall and drop to my knees, dry heaving in the toilet. I haven’t eaten a damn thing, so I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised when nothing comes up. The only substantial thing that’s passed my lips since that phone call has been alcohol. I can’t stomach anything else.
“Rubes,” Harley sighs, dropping down beside me and rubbing my back. “You need to go home and get this over with.”
Dropping to my ass, I bring my knees up to my chest and rest my forehead on them.
“I can’t, Har. I can’t see him again.” My heart shatters in my chest and my hands begin to shake.
“I know, but... you’re kinda going to have to.”
“I hate him. I hate him so fucking much.”
“So tell him.”
“He’s just lost his mom.” Pain for what he’s just been through lances through me, but it doesn’t stop me hating him.
“Don’t make excuses for him. He was a class-A prick. If you want to lay into him when you see him, go for it, he deserves it.”
I glance up at her in time to see her wince at her own words. “You know I can’t do that.”
“I know,” she whispers, dropping down beside me and holding my hand. “I just... we need you in top form, Rubes. Nationals are only a few weeks away. We can’t do it without our best flyer.” She winks at me.
I nod. The nationals have been my dream for... forever. To get to attend this year as varsity. It means everything to me. But I fear he’s about to fuck everything up without even knowing it.
The door to the bathroom opens and Chelsea, our pregnant captain, walks in. She does a double take when she spots us on the floor in one of the stalls.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, looking between the two of us.
Harley looks at me, her brows pulling together. I’m not sure if she’s begging me to sort my shit out or to be honest with Chelsea. I go with the former because the thought of having to explain to someone else about Ashton fills me with dread.
“Yeah, we’re good. I just got a bit queasy. I’m fine now.”
Releasing Harley’s hand, I push to my feet but as I walk toward Chelsea, she doesn’t move.
Her eyes drop down the length of my body. “Are you eating right? I know I’m putting you through a lot right now, you need to be looking after yourself.”
“Y-yeah, I am,” I lie.
“Regionals were tough, but it’s only going to get harder for nationals.” She glances from me to Harley and back again. “I need all of the squad focused and prepared.” Her words are all business, but I see a softness in her eyes that never used to be there.
“I’ve got this, Chelsea. You don’t need to worry about me.”
She stares at me for a beat, as if she doesn’t quite believe what I’m saying. But after a second, she nods.
“Okay, that’s good. But if you need me, either of you.” She looks between us once more. “You know where I am, yeah?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Chels.”
“Anytime. Now, I really need to pee.” She races toward the stall and I can’t help but laugh at her.
Our stone-cold queen bee really has softened somewhat recently.
“Want some more advice?” she calls out.
“Sure.” I start washing my hands, waiting for her words of wisdom.
“Unless you want to pee every thirty seconds, keep the team away from your vag.”
We both snort a laugh. “Sure thing, Chels.”
My heart is in my throat as I pull my car to a stop in the driveway beside Stephen’s and stare up at the house. My head spins and my hands tremble.
He’s just one person. One asshole of a person. I shouldn’t be this terrified to see him again.
Movement in the kitchen window catches my eye and my stomach twists once more.
I really just need to get this over with.
He’s probably forgotten all about what happened at Halloween and moved on. He’s certainly got bigger things to worry about right now. There’s no way he’s obsessing about seeing me like I am him. That asshole doesn’t give a shit about anything, especially not me. He made that abundantly clear the very first time we met.
After blowing out a long breath, I grab my purse and duffle then climb from the car.
The house is silent as I walk down the hallway. I don’t drop my bags like I usually would, I want to be ready to make a quick escape should I need to.
“In the kitchen, sweetie,” Mom calls.
I can do this. I can do this, I repeat over and over in my head as I make my way down to them.
My temperature soars, my skin feeling like it doesn’t belong on my body, and as I round the corner, I swear I stop breathing.
That is until I find a room with just Mom and Stephen in it, both of their faces pulled tight with worry.