Chapter 31
Milow
I had never felt every inch of my body tingle the way it did in that moment.
I felt so many emotions at once, and as intense as they were, they were all positive.
If I had to put how I felt into words, I wasn’t sure I could.
As many books as I read, and as smart as everybody told me I was, I had no words for this.
All I knew was that I was in love, and no amount of words could ever explain what that felt like.
Ashby was a great kisser. Not that I had anyone to compare him to, but the way he made it feel had to mean something.
He was so gentle and careful, and never once did it feel like I was being forced.
He let me take the lead, and let me decide what came next, and I realized that maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.
Because if it were up to me, we would kiss forever without ever stopping. Though, thinking about it more, that probably would’ve started to hurt our lips after a while.
After what felt like an eternity, I was the one who pulled back. I looked into his eyes, needing to make sure that what we had just done was okay. His lids were still lowered, and his gaze held that same soft and comforting admiration he always looked at me with.
His thumbs brushed slowly over my hips, and our breathing had settled into an easy rhythm that proved just how calm we made each other.
My hands were still tangled in his hair, and I didn’t want to move them.
I could tell he liked it when I tugged at it.
He made those low sounds deep in his throat when I did, and I had done it a few times during the kiss, to hear them again.
A slow smile spread across his mouth, and he leaned in once more, pressing one last gentle kiss to my lips. When he pulled back, I let my hands slide down to his shoulders, and he reached up to cup my face with both hands.
He studied me closely, his expression still so soft and sweet. Then he spoke, and the words he said made a big firework explode in my heart.
“I love you, Milow. I’ve always loved you.”
I froze and just stared at him as my heart beat so hard in my chest that I could feel it in my throat. I didn’t move, waiting for him to say more.
“I know this won’t be easy,” he continued quietly.
“People will judge because of the way we were brought up. They’ll probably look at us funny.
And if you don’t want this to be public, that’s okay.
We can keep it to ourselves. I don’t care about that.
” His thumbs brushed along my cheekbones.
“I just want to be with you. However you want that to look.”
My mouth fell open as the words sank in. Had I heard correctly? Did he really say all that?
I pulled my hands to my chest, trying to find the right words before I signed, [You want to be my boyfriend?]
Ashby’s eyes widened slightly. “Ah, shit…” He lifted a hand and ran it through his hair with a shake of his head. “I didn’t mean to just… no, I don’t—crap, I mean, yes. Yes, I want to be your boyfriend. I want it so goddamn bad, Milow.”
His words rushed out, sounding messy and unfiltered, and then he stopped short.
He searched my face as worry crept in. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly.
“I shouldn’t have pushed that on you. I just—” He swallowed.
“If that was too much, I need to know. I don’t want to scare you or make you feel uncomfortable. ”
My throat tightened at the look in his eyes. He was scared of losing me. Of losing what we were and had. I reached for his wrist, stopping his hand where it hovered uselessly between us. He tensed at my touch, watching me closely.
[I want you to be my boyfriend, too.]
His breath left him in a shaky exhale. “You… you do?”
I nodded, my eyes burning now. [I love you too.]
For a second, he didn’t move at all. Then a wave of emotions washed over his face. He laughed softly and pulled me into him by wrapping his arms tightly around my body.
“Okay,” he whispered against my hair. “Okay. Thank fuck.”
I scrunched my nose and smiled at his choice of words.
His hands slid up my back, and he leaned back to rest his forehead against mine.
“I promise,” he said quietly, “I’ll do this right.”
I had no doubts about that. He had done it right all these years, even when we weren't boyfriend and girlfriend.
__
Ashby fell asleep again, and I carefully got out of bed and went downstairs when I heard sounds coming from the kitchen. Mom was already up. I joined her and helped prepare breakfast while the others were still sleeping.
I worked on the pancake batter without really paying attention.
My thoughts kept drifting back to everything that had happened the night before.
Mom and Dad had finally told me the truth about my past. Ashby told me he loved me, then he became my boyfriend.
That part made my heart skip a beat, and I couldn’t stop the smile that formed on my face.
“Milow?” Mom said softly as she stepped closer and placed a gentle hand on my back. “Would you like to share how you’re feeling? Do you think it might help?”
I looked at her, unsure. I didn’t feel ready to bring my past back up so soon.
But a part of me worried that if I kept pushing it away, it would come back later and make it harder to deal with it.
That was how bad things worked, weren’t they?
You ignored them for as long as you could, and then one day they caught up to you when you least expected it.
I gave her a tight smile and shrugged, then set the whisk down to sign. [I’m not ready yet, but I will come to you when I am.]
“Okay,” she said, smiling gently as she rubbed my back. “How about we make a nice afternoon out of today? We could go to the mall. Maybe even get a haircut. I really need one,” she added, flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder.
[That sounds nice.]
“Good. I think the boys can survive an afternoon without us,” she teased.
I grinned and nodded in agreement. Even so, I knew I would miss them, like I always did. And I would miss Ashby the most.
__
On the way to the mall, I got a text from Ashby that made my heart thud incredibly hard. He was officially my boyfriend, and getting his texts now had a whole different meaning.
Ashby
Enjoy your day at the mall. Miss you already. I love you, Milow. ?
I smiled at the text, unable to be nonchalant about it, and just as I was about to text back, another one appeared. And another. He was spamming now.
Ashby
Forever, by the way.
I love you now, and I’ll love you forever.
That sounds so cheesy.
But it’s true, and I just wanted you to know.
I covered my mouth with one hand, my nose scrunching at how adorable he was being.
Me
I’ll love you forever, too.
Ashby
And I’ve always loved you.
Me
I’ve always loved you, too.
Ashby
Glad we’re on the same page.
I kept smiling at his texts and watched the bubble come up one last time.
Ashby
I love you. Always. <3
Me
I love you. Forever. <3
By the time we reached the mall, the knot in my chest had loosened a little.
But I still had our conversation present at the back of my mind.
The last time I’d been at the mall with Mom was a long time ago, and the idea of spending an entire afternoon alone with her there excited me.
But before we shopped, we headed straight to the salon.
Mom had called before we left the house to check if they had any availability on such short notice.
Luckily, they did. Mom booked a haircut for herself, and I made a decision I’d never made before. I was going to get my nails done. I didn’t want to cut my hair because I liked it long, and after Ashby’s texts earlier, I felt unusually happy. So much so that I wanted to try something new.
Before Mom sat down for her appointment, she helped me explain to the nail technician which color I wanted.
[I really like this one,] I signed before pointing to a light, almost pastel green.
“That’s very pretty,” Mom said with a smile. She told the technician, then looked back at me. “I’ll be right over there.”
I nodded and smiled. [Okay.]
The technician guided me to a chair across from her, positioned so I could see Mom in the mirror.
Mom gave me a small wave, and I watched her for a moment longer than necessary.
I remembered the first time I’d seen her, before she and Dad adopted me.
I had thought she looked like a princess back then.
She still did. She hadn’t aged much at all.
For forty, she looked more like thirty. Dad too.
He was only two years older and still looking young, even with his silly mustache.
The woman carefully took my hands and began the manicure.
I watched every step. I had never done this before.
I’d never even considered painting my nails.
I’d never thought my fingers deserved that kind of care.
The skin around my nails was torn and uneven.
Some nails were shorter than others, and the red, irritated skin on my left thumb made me think my hands would never look nice.
My skin picking had always made me uncomfortable and insecure. Still, I hoped that having polish on my nails might help me stop. It was worth trying. And if it didn’t work, then I would have to find another way.
The process was easier than I expected. The technician didn’t seem bothered by how my hands looked. She even reassured me that the creams and oils she used wouldn’t burn the open skin. I smiled at her, grateful that she didn’t draw attention to something I already struggled with.
When she finished, I held my hands out in front of me and slowly turned them, taking in how they looked now.
“All done,” the woman said, smiling when she saw my reaction. “That’s a really pretty color on you.”
My smile widened. [Thank you.] I wasn’t sure if she understood, but the way she nodded and dipped her head told me she did.