Chapter 39
Ashby
When the visiting hours were over, we went back into Scottie’s room to say goodbye.
As we were leaving with Stan and Scarlett afterward, she explained that Scottie had apparently suffered a circulatory collapse, which was why she had fainted so suddenly and without warning.
I didn’t know much about medical stuff, but something about a seventeen-year-old having a circulatory collapse didn’t sit right with me.
Scarlett seemed to feel the same. I could see the concern on her face, the way her jaw tightened when she talked about it.
Still, I didn’t question it out loud. I didn’t want to make anyone worry more than they already were.
Scottie needed rest, and I trusted that Scarlett would make sure the doctors ran every test they needed to.
We got home late. Dad was the only one still awake, sitting on the couch with the TV on low. He looked over at us right away, his expression concerned. I had texted him earlier, letting him know where we were so he wouldn’t worry about Milow and me.
“Hey. How is she?” he asked, sitting up straighter.
“She’s okay,” I said. “Apparently, she had a circulatory collapse.”
Dad frowned. “At seventeen?”
“Yeah. That’s what I said.”
“Does she have any history of heart problems?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No. She’s always been healthy.”
Milow nodded beside me, her face tight with worry and confusion. [I feel like that’s not what caused her to faint.]
Dad pressed his lips together, studying both of us for a moment. “I hope Scarlett makes sure those doctors check her thoroughly,” he said. “I’m glad she’s doing better, though.”
I nodded, but the uneasy feeling stayed with me.
I looked at Milow then, rubbing her back gently. “She’ll be okay,” I assured her.
[I know. I just hate that she’s all alone at the hospital tonight.]
“She’ll be out in no time. I’m sure of it.”
Milow leaned into me, still tense, and I held her a little tighter.
I told myself it was nothing, but deep down, that strange and uncomfortable feeling stayed.
__
“Come here, boy.” My father’s voice always made me want to run and make myself invisible. But in a one-bedroom apartment, of which he kept the door locked, I had nowhere to hide.
I walked toward him slowly, already knowing I had done something wrong even though I didn’t know what it was, because with him, it was always something. Sometimes it felt like I was being punished for simply existing. But it wasn’t my fault or my wish to be here with them.
The room smelled like beer and smoke that never really left, no matter how often the window was opened. He sat in his chair, a bottle of something strong-smelling on the table, and a cigarette burning between his fingers. The way his eyes were fixed on me made my stomach twist.
“You’re too slow,” he said, his voice low and irritated. “Everything you do is slow. You do it on purpose to piss me off.”
I shook my head, but it was barely noticeable as I stared at the floor. Looking at him only made things worse. As I stopped in front of him, my hands were clenched so tight at my sides they hurt.
“Open your mouth.”
I froze.
My heart started beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. I didn’t want to do it, and I knew what he wanted before he even moved, but I also knew what would happen if I didn’t listen.
Daddy’s hands were big and strong, and they hurt the most when he balled them into fists.
“I said open your mouth,” he repeated, already leaning forward.
My lips trembled as I obeyed. My jaw was stiff, and my breath shallow and uneven. I tasted smoke before he even touched me. His hand grabbed my chin, forcing my head up as his fingers dug into my skin.
“Look at you,” he said. “Can’t even stand still. You’re useless.”
Then he pressed the cigarette against my tongue.
The pain was instant and overwhelming. The burn lasted longer than something so small should have.
I squeezed my eyes shut as a broken scream tore out of me, but he didn’t pull away.
He held it there, twisting and pressing the cigarette on my tongue like it was an ashtray, and he kept going just long enough for my body to jerk and shake.
“Shut up,” he barked. “You make everything worse.”
He finally let go, shoving my head back so hard I stumbled and nearly fell. My mouth burned and throbbed, saliva spilling out because I couldn’t swallow that awful thing. I pressed my hands to my face, choking on my own sobs.
“You’re pathetic,” he said, leaning back like he hadn’t just burned my tongue again. “Crying over nothing. You’re lucky I’m teaching you how to toughen up.”
I looked at my mother then, because I always did.
Because some part of me kept hoping that this time she would stand up and say something, or at least look at me.
She was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed, and her eyes fixed on the TV.
Her expression was flat and distant. And she didn’t move.
“If you didn’t act like this, he wouldn’t get so angry,” she said calmly. “You always push him.”
My father laughed cruelly. “Hear that? Even she knows it’s your fault. Everything is your fucking fault, boy.”
My mouth hurt too much to speak. I tasted blood and smoke and something bitter. I wiped my face with my sleeve and tried to make myself small.
“Go sit in your corner,” he said. “And don’t make a sound. I don’t want to hear you cry like a little girl.”
I did what he told me, because I always did. I sat on the floor near the wall, with my knees pulled to my chest. My mouth was still burning, and my body shook even though I tried to stop it.
I stayed quiet and still, and I didn’t dare to believe that this would ever stop.
I deserved this. They told me every single day. So why would I ever think that there was a better place out there somewhere?
Nobody was coming to save me.
Superheroes weren’t real.
All there was was waiting for it to end and hoping tomorrow wouldn’t hurt as much as today.
__
I woke to a hand gently running through my hair. I smiled, keeping my eyes closed so I could enjoy her touch for a moment longer.
“Hmm.” I slid my hand over her waist and pulled her closer, fitting her body tight against mine.
She melted into me, her leg slipping between mine as her fingers curled softly in my hair.
When I finally opened my eyes, hers were the first thing I saw, and my heart skipped without warning.
If there were one thing I could choose to look at for the rest of my life, it would be her eyes.
Their color still caught my attention every time, the blue in her right eye standing out clearly against the dark brown.
It was as unique and perfect as Milow was.
“Morning,” I murmured, pressing my hand flat against her lower back. “Have you been up long?”
She shook her head, then brushed her nose gently along my jaw before leaning in to kiss me.
I kissed her back without hesitation, meeting her halfway and pulling her closer.
It was a slow kiss, and it made everything around us feel far away and unimportant.
It made me want to stay right here with her, wrapped in each other’s arms, without getting up any time soon.
I slid my other hand along her spine, feeling the curve of her back as she arched it, then moved it up to cup the back of her head to keep her right there.
I deepened the kiss just a little, still moving my lips slowly against hers.
I was taking my time because there was no rush.
When she pulled back, she pushed herself up to sit, and as she moved, I rolled onto my back.
I looked up at her with one arm tucked behind my head and the other resting easily on her thigh, my thumb brushing over her skin without thinking about it.
She looked calm and happy, her hair slightly messy from sleep, and her eyes soft as she looked down at me.
[Happy birthday, Ashby.]
I grinned, letting out a quiet sigh when it fully sank in. “Shit… I forgot.”
She scrunched her nose and placed a hand on my stomach, her fingertips slowly tracing the creases of my abs. She did it unconsciously, but it made me grin wider.
“Thank you, sweet girl. I can’t believe I’m eighteen. I’m getting so old,” I said jokingly.
Milow rolled her eyes. [You’re still young, and you have your whole life ahead of you.]
“You’re right,” I said, my grin turning into a slow smile. “And I can’t wait to spend it all with you.”
I gave it exactly one second before her cheeks burned bright red, and I smirked, lifting my left hand from her thigh to cup her cheek. “I should put making you blush on the list of things I’m great at.”
Milow sucked in her cheeks to stop herself from smiling, but it failed. [Stop it,] she signed, before slapping my chest.
I chuckled and dropped my hand back to her thigh, gently brushing the skin beneath the hem of her pajama shorts.
I smiled. “I mean it. I’m glad I can spend my birthday with you.”
Birthdays had always been my favorite. Not just mine, but everyone else’s too. Growing older never scared me. Every birthday meant I’d survived another year and that I still had the people I loved close to me.
[I got you a present,] she signed, her cheeks staying pink as she glanced away for a second before looking back at me.
“Yeah?” I lifted my brows. “What is it?”
She reached over to the nightstand, picked up something, then handed it to me. I sat up, taking in the plaid wrapping paper before looking at her again. “Thank you, Milow.”
[Open it,] she signed, her eyes bright with excitement.
“Okay, okay.” I carefully unwrapped it, peeling the paper back and lifting out what was inside.
I grinned the second I saw it. A dark brown trapper hat rested in my hands.
The ear flaps and the front part were lined with lighter brown fur.
I ran my fingers over it, already knowing I’d wear it every winter from now on.
The weather was already turning colder, and I never left the house without a trapper hat in winter anyway. It had always been my thing.
Ever since Dad bought me my first blue one when I was little, it stuck. It became a habit and a comfort piece.
“I love it, Milow. It’s perfect,” I said, pulling it on with a grin. “How do I look?”
She smiled and clasped her hands together, pressing them to her chest before signing, [Very handsome.]
“Thank you,” I said, chuckling. “I was actually thinking about getting a new one.”
I leaned in and kissed her, one hand resting at the side of her head. When I pulled back, she lifted her hands again.
[There’s something hidden on the inside.]
“Hidden?” I frowned and took the hat off, turning it over. The lining inside was dark blue, and I paused for a second. The hat's colors reminded me of her eyes. I didn’t think she had picked it specifically because of that, but I liked to think she did subconsciously.
She pointed, and I leaned closer. Stitched neatly into the lining with white yarn were our initials, tucked inside a heart.
I smiled and looked back at her as she signed, [I embroidered it. If it’s too much, I can take it out.]
“No,” I said immediately, shaking my head as I traced the stitches with my thumb. “Don’t. It’s perfect. I want it exactly like this.”
Her smile grew, and I pressed the hat to my chest before leaning into her to kiss her again. “I love you, Milow.”
Always and forever.