“Stephen,” she says away from the speaker. “Ruby said that Ashton is gone.”
I can’t hear his response but whatever he says, she agrees.
“Our Uber is coming in ten minutes to go to the church, we’ll get you on the way through. He’ll be there. He just needs...” She trails off because, quite honestly, none of us know what he needs right now.
“I’ll be ready,” I say, rushing to hang up so I can get ready in record time.
Thankfully, I get just over thirty minutes before the buzzer goes off. I push my feet back into the shoes I wore last night and after grabbing my purse, I make my way to the door.
I find an Uber by the sidewalk with Stephen standing beside it in a sharp black suit.
He smiles sadly at me. “You look beautiful, Ruby. Have you heard from him?” His brows pull together in concern.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t think he’s in a very good place.”
I take a step toward the back of the car where I can see Mom waiting for me, but Stephen’s voice stops me before I reach out for the handle.
“I have no idea what’s going on between the two of you, but I just wanted to say thank you for being there for him... as much as he allows, anyway.”
I open my mouth to respond but I soon find I have no words. I have no idea if I’m helping Ashton in any way right now. I think of last night, if it weren’t me then I’m sure he’d have found someone else willing to help him forget for a few hours.
Jealousy twists my stomach as I think of the girl from the bathroom at that party last night. I’ve no doubt she’d have kept him company given half the chance.
“We should go,” I say in the end, reaching forward and pulling the door open.
I’m wearing a black pencil skirt. It doesn’t make getting in the car all that easy, but after a few seconds I drop down into the seat beside Mom.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, glancing over at her.
“Hi, sweetie. How are you?” Something about her tone seems off. I have no idea if she’s still pissed because she thinks I had sex in her bed or if she’s annoyed that I’m not staying at the hotel with them. Whatever it is, I really don’t have the energy to worry about it right now.
I stare out of the window as the car begins to move.
“Did he say where he was going?” she asks after a few seconds of silence. “If he was going to attend?”
“I don’t know, Mom. He didn’t say anything. I really hope he doesn’t miss it. He’ll regret it.”
Mom nods, shooting Stephen a concerned stare.
“He’ll be there,” he says, his voice full of confidence I really don’t feel.
There are a few people gathered already when we arrive at the church. But when I look around, I don’t see him.
“Come on, Ash,” I mutter to myself as Stephen goes to talk to someone, dragging Mom with him.
I stand awkwardly on the bumpy path that leads toward the church entrance, praying that he comes. Desperate for him not to make a mistake that he’s going to regret forever.
He told me he wanted to at least do this right. I really hope he meant that.
We’re welcomed into the church in time for the arrival of the coffin, but still, he’s not here.
I sit closest to the aisle with Mom and then Stephen beside me. My knee bounces as we wait. A handful of people fill the church behind us, and I can’t help wondering who they all are and if they’re as concerned about Ashton’s absence as I am.
“He’ll be here,” Stephen whispers over to me, probably in an attempt to stop my leg annoying the crap out of him.
After long, silent, anxious minutes, the priest comes to stand at the front, and I try to swallow down the lump of emotion that’s suddenly appeared in my throat.
“Could you please stand?”
We do as we’re told, and the organ starts playing. My stomach twists as my eyes burn. I can’t help it. I might not have ever met the woman, but she was Ashton’s mom, Stephen’s wife. I feel their pain, their loss right alongside them. I might not know the whole story behind her and Stephen’s relationship, but I know he cared enough to marry her, to have a baby with her. No matter the outcome of them, he still cared, like I know my mom and dad do for each other.
Everyone shifts around me, the rustling of their clothes filling my ears, as I assume they look to the doors. Although I’m not sure why, this isn’t a freaking wedding.
I suck in a deep breath, trying to center myself so I don’t end up a blubbering mess, and I look over my shoulder.
What I find sucks all the air from my lungs.
“Ashton.” His name is the faintest of whispers on my lips as I stare at him.
He’s wearing the same clothes that he walked out of the apartment in, only now the hood is up.
His eyes are focused on a point at the front of the church as he walks down the aisle with his mother’s coffin on his shoulder.
My vision blurs as I watch him. His expression hard, his eyes cold and his jaw tense as he moves.
I have to fight to keep a sob inside.
He came, and not only is he here, but he’s doing this... for her. It’s too much.
My body shakes with my need to cry, but I know I’ve got to fight it. I’ve got to be strong for him, even if he doesn’t think he needs me to be.
I blow out a shaky breath as I rip my eyes from him and take in the two guys behind him that I can see. Their hoods are up, and they’re dressed exactly the same as Ash, but my breath catches when I realize that I recognize them. The one directly behind him is the guy he was talking to on the couch last night, Cash, I think. And behind him, surprisingly, is Axel.
I watch as the three of them move past me. If any of them are aware that I’m here watching them, then they don’t make it known as they continue to walk forward and in only a few seconds, place the coffin on the stand. Five of them step away but Ashton pauses beside the coffin.
Mom must sense that I’m about to lose control because her hand slips into mine. I squeeze it tight in the hope it might help, but nothing does. The sight of a broken, devastated Ashton standing before his mom absolutely wrecks me.
Everything he’s done to me since he reappeared, his vicious words, his cruel touch, all of it drifts off until it all means nothing.
That boy. That cold, angry, merciless boy, is utterly lost, completely shattered, and drowning faster than any of us realize.
My heart aches for him. My muscles scream at me to walk over there and to pull him into my arms, to give him the kind of support that I’m sure he’s desperate for right now.
But I can’t. I know I can’t.
He won’t accept it. He barely accepts it when we’re alone, there’s no way he’ll accept it in a room full of people. He won’t allow himself to show anyone in here that kind of weakness.
After a second, he reaches out and places his hand on the smooth wood of the coffin.
His shoulders rise and fall at a rapid rate as he stares down. I swear every single person in that congregation holds their breath in those few beats as we all watch him say goodbye to the person he loved most in this world.
After another second, his hand drops along with his shoulders and he takes a step back. He doesn’t turn around or look over his shoulder. He doesn’t need to, he seems to know where he’s going as he backs toward the pew beside where we’re standing and joins the five guys he walked in with.