Chapter Thirty
Ashley
Ryan sent me a text to call him in an hour. He was going to be with Sloane, and I would finally be able to talk to him.
I wasn’t sure what to expect since apparently Sloane was adamant that I not come to Germany to see him. Hearing that had physically felt like a blow to the stomach.
Still, when Ryan asked me if I wanted to send anything to Sloane, I didn’t hesitate to make a cheesecake and go to the store to buy him comfy socks. I also sent a letter asking him to please not shut me out and tried to remind him about what we’d said to each other before he left.
I pulled up Ryan’s name in my contacts, hit send , and found myself holding my breath until I heard the voice I’d become familiar with over the last several weeks say, “Hello?”
“Hey, Ryan. It’s me.”
“Oh hey, Ashley,” he said my name loud, so I assumed that was for Sloane’s benefit. His voice drifted from the phone, like he was talking to someone else. “Wait… you want to talk to her? Okay, hold on.” His voice was stronger again when he said, “Ashley, Sloane wants to talk to you.”
I heard a muffled exchange going on until finally Sloane’s voice said, “Hello”
Just hearing that one word from him made my heart sing. I’d missed him so much and been so damn worried about him.
“Hi!” I said enthusiastically. “It’s so good to hear your voice.”
He replied with a lot less zeal.
“Yeah. It’s good to hear yours, too.”
Still, I wasn’t going to let that deter me from the chance to talk to him. Maybe he just wasn’t feeling well.
“How are you feeling?”
“Probably about as good as I look.”
Well, I don’t know how you look, since you wouldn’t let me come see you, so…
Of course, I kept the snarky comment to myself and tried a gentler approach.
“I’m sorry. I hope they’re managing your pain.”
“My nurse takes good care of me.”
There was almost a sneer in his voice, like he wanted me to insinuate something more from his comment. I’d heard that tone when he’d talked to Sara at the bar, but I never imagined it’d be directed at me.
I tried to ignore it, and asked, “Did you get the cheesecake I made?”
“Yeah.”
I paused, thinking he was going to say more. He didn’t.
“And the socks? I know it can get cold in the hospital.”
“Yep.”
Now he just sounded bored.
“Have my letters gotten there?”
“Yeah, but I haven’t read them, so you don’t need to keep writing.”
“I don’t mind,” I said gently. “I like including you in my day.”
He let out a sigh, like he was exasperated.
“Look, Ashley. I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to come out and tell you. You need to move on.”
“And I told you; I’m not going anywhere. I love you. And I know you love me, too. Let me help you.”
“I don’t need your help. I have help here.”
“It’s different when people you love are with you.”
“I. Don’t. Want. You. Here. I’m not your special project to fix. I’m damaged goods. I’ve accepted that, and you need to as well.”
“I don’t care that you’re injured. I work with people every day who’ve lost a limb, and they’re able to lead normal lives.”
“And how many of them are disfigured?”
“You’re not the first person I’ve met with scars, Sloane.”
“How could you possibly want to be seen with me, when you’re so shallow that you’re embarrassed over a birthmark? You’d be mortified at what I look like. And unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of scheduling a doctor’s visit to have my embarrassment removed.”
“Wow,” I muttered, dumbfounded. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Move on, Ashley. I’m going to.”
And without another word, he hung up, leaving me stunned, not to mention, pissed off.
~~~~
I laid on Tammy’s couch and poured my heart out.
When Sloane first hung up on me, I’d been fuming. Now I was just… sad.
“I’m so stupid,” I reiterated for the hundredth time. “I was nothing more than his glorified beef jerky supplier and weekend-leave fuck. And I fell for his bullshit, hook, line and sinker. Never again.”
“Oh, don’t say that. You opened yourself up to love, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You just chose the wrong guy.”
“I bared my soul to him, Tam,” I said as my eyes welled with tears. “And I thought he’d done the same.”
I sat up when she dropped down on the couch next to me and gratefully accepted one of her hugs.
“I’m so sorry, honey. He’s an asshole for what he did. Injured or not, he doesn’t get a pass for being such a dick.”
“He made me feel so special,” I lamented. “And it was all a big lie.”
“Ash, I think you were special to him, but people come in and out of our lives for a reason. Maybe he came into your life to open you up to the possibility of love, and you were in his to help him get through this tour. But you’ve each served your purpose, and it’s time to let go.”
“I know you’re right. I just don’t know how. It hurts so bad sometimes, I feel like I can’t breathe.”
“I know it’s cliché, but time heals all wounds.”
It felt like I was going to need a hundred years for my heart to get over him.
~~~~
A week later, when I received a box from Germany, I felt a flash of hope that he’d changed his mind and was sending some sort of peace offering.
Then I opened it to find all the letters I’d written to him in the last two months, unread.
I thought back to the night at the bar when all the women were throwing themselves at him, practically begging him to give them the time of day, and he’d seemed unfazed by their attention. How I’d told myself back then that I’d never be that girl. I was better than that.
I looked at the box containing months’ worth of pouring my heart and soul out. How I’d made sure to write to him even when all I wanted to do was collapse into my bed because I thought he’d appreciate it when he woke up.
Instead, I’d meant so little to him that he couldn’t even be bothered to read my letters. I reaffirmed what I’d vowed in the bar. I was never going to be that girl.
Message received, Captain Davidson.
I was done, too.