“Yeah, we don’t have anything to talk about.”
Steve finally left me to piss in peace. Fuck him. Fuck Pop Syad. Fuck my mother, too.
I pulled Aya’s mala beads from the pocket of my sweatpants. I’d taken them the night everything fell apart. I’d planned to give them back to her, but then it all went to shit. I fingered the tassel, wishing it was her soft hair.
Much as I wanted to send her another text, telling her how much I missed her, how sorry I was about her mom, I was afraid. Our conversation yesterday had been frosty—so unlike the warm, sweet woman I’d spent so much time building a life with this past year.
29
Aya
The door chimed. My pulse leaped. Nash. He would take me in his arms and hold me. This was all a mistake. A terrible mistake. My breath caught, hope surging.
My father strolled into the living room.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. My voice felt dull. I felt dull. Broken. Tired.
“Your housekeeper informed me of Sofia’s death.”
His jowly countenance neared, and I realized he planned to hug me. I stiffened. “You don’t like me.”
He sighed as he dropped his tweed-clad arms. “It’s never been an issue of like or love, Aya. Life’s more complicated than that.”
No, it isn’t. He’d made it clear he didn’t want me around. I wanted Nash to hold me. Except I didn’t. My skin prickled with shame. Humiliation flowed over me in a noxious, painful cloud.
My father led me to one of the sofas in the living room. I curled inward once more, not liking the cool, almost clinical feel of the supple leather against my bare shoulder. Everything hurt. Everything. I hadn’t known that was possible. My breath hitched, but my eyes remained dry.
“I think it best I take you home,” my father announced.
“I don’t want to live in England. I’m going to UT in the fall.”
My father stood over me, hands clasped behind his back. “We’ll ensure you have a spot in a program in England. You’ll want family near as you grieve. Perhaps a semester off, to spend time with Harriet and me, would do you good. You can build a relationship with your sisters.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to leave. This is my home.”
He waved away my words like they meant nothing.
I looked over to see Mrs. Ombly hovered in the open doorway between the kitchen and the living area, clearly unsure how to proceed. I glared at her, angry she’d brought my father into my life. He was already steamrolling my wishes.
“We’ll bury Sofia tomorrow,” he once again announced, paying no mind to my sputters of indignation. “And we’ll fly back for the weekend.”
I rose, my hands fisted. “I’m not going to England. This is my home.”
He raised his eyebrows, which caused his round, fleshy cheeks to jiggle. “Really? And where are all the concerned friends? Your mother’s mourners?”
I closed my eyes as he pointed out the truth: no one wanted me. All I’d ever wanted was a home—a place to belong, to be loved. I thought I’d found that here.
I’d been so wrong.
My mother had promised to stay so I didn’t end up in this exact position. Nash had promised to protect me. Jeddi had promised to see me cared for.
No one had kept their promise.
Nash should be here.
But Nash had chosen Lindsay. I’d heard his message loud and clear: he didn’t want me.
That was the lesson I had to accept. My head swam and my vision blurred a moment. My lip quivered.
Mrs. Ombly wrung her hands as she stepped forward. “Why don’t you give Nash a call—”
“We broke up,” I said, my voice hard.
For a moment everything was silent. Time stood still, and I felt nothing but emptiness. Maybe…maybe this time moving was smart. I’d start over. Away from Nash. Fuck him if he didn’t want me.
“You can get me into a good university in England?” I asked.
My father’s smile widened, cutting his pudgy face into two spheres, both lumpy with craters and grooves, much like images of the moon. “With the right sum, one can get most anything, my dear.”
I frowned, not liking his attitude. “Okay,” I said, settling back on the sofa.
Mrs. Ombly made a sound of distress. “Aya—”
I shook my head. “It’s better this way.” My voice cracked. “There’s nothing left for me here. Not now.”
30
Nash
It wasn’t until Hugh stopped by my hospital room the next afternoon, worry lining his features, that I realized how bad the situation was with Aya.
“She’s gone, man,” he said as he dropped into the chair next to my bed.
I scowled at Steve, who stood, both sentry and prison guard, in the corner of my room. “I want to talk to Hugh without you here.”
Steve’s face remained impassive as he took his sweet time strolling from the room. As soon as I could figure out how to get rid of him, I would. Asher would know how to get me new security.
Or maybe I’d keep Steve around and torment him. He deserved it since he’d left me to fend off Brad Porter’s verbal abuse for years. Yeah, that’s what I’d do. I’d make his life just as miserable as he’d made mine.
I sighed when he was finally out of sight. But I didn’t relax. Not with Hugh’s comment circling around in my mind.
“Gone? What does that mean?”
Aya and I were supposed to live together this summer. We had the apartment chosen. The lawyers were working to get that awful video taken down. The label had issued a press release explaining that I’d been drugged and there was an ongoing police investigation. Aya had to see all that and realize…
Fuck.
I wanted her to realize I loved her—the words I hadn’t given her because I couldn’t. But those were the only words she’d needed to hear.
I flicked at my IV line, restless, miserable. I hated this bed. I hated that I’d been drugged and still felt like shit. I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to process what had gone down these past few days. My entire life had imploded. I didn’t even know who I was—who my father was.
I looked over, and Hugh was still stalling. “What do you mean, gone?” I rasped out again.
“The housekeeper said her dad came and took her away.” His eyes filled with regret, and more than a little guilt. He’d brought Lindsay into our circle. “She’s gone.”
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This is not the end of Nash and Aya’s story. Keep reading in CRAVING OBLIVION.
* * *
The boy I fell for was my superstar. Now, he's a rock legend.
Their love was like a song, full of body and the right notes…
* * *
Aya Aldringham ran away from Nash’s betrayal, and her continued feelings, and she’s still running all these years later. She’s shut down, erecting fences too tall to scale.