Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ashton
I’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness, fragments of conversation stuttering through my brain like a scratched DVD that won’t stop skipping.
I vaguely remember the muffled sound of my siblings’ voices, some raised shouting, and Troy’s hand squeezing mine somewhere through it all.
I think I might’ve spoken at one point, but I don’t remember what I said.
Hopefully nothing embarrassing.
For the first time in… I don’t even know how long, my mind feels a little clearer. The fog is thinning, enough that I can finally hear my own thoughts—enough that the world around me starts to come into focus.
The first thing I notice is the beeping.
It cuts through the fog in my head like a metronome, pulling me slowly back to the surface. My eyelids feel heavy as stone, but I manage to pry them open and stare up at the ceiling. The cool-toned fluorescent light above me hums softly in the background.
My mouth is dry as sandpaper. When I try to swallow, my throat burns a little. Everything else feels… strange. Floaty. Like my limbs aren’t quite attached to the rest of me.
I blink slowly, my vision swimming for a moment before it settles. White ceiling tiles. An IV pole. A heart monitor blinking quietly beside the bed.
I try to move, and that’s when I feel it.
My arm is heavy and immobilized. I tilt my head down slowly and see the thick cast running from my wrist to my elbow, cradled carefully in a sling across my chest.
The memories come back in blurry fragments.
Driving the four-wheeler through the orchard.
The low hum of the engine beneath me. A sudden, violent jolt.
Weightlessness as I flew forward. The sickening crack of bone when my body hit the ground.
The crushing weight of the ATV pinning me down, squeezing the air out of my lungs while pain tore through every inch of me.
A shudder runs through me.
I remember lying there—cold and alone—watching the sky fade into darkness through the branches overhead. But then I saw Luke’s headlights, cutting through the trees like a beacon of hope. I remember calling out to him with the last bit of energy I had left.
After that… everything dissolves into a haze.
I shift slightly against the pillows, blinking around the room.
Three familiar figures are crammed onto the small couch across from the bed. Olivia, Chloe, and Justin sit shoulder to shoulder, practically stacked on top of each other. Chloe’s legs are tucked beneath her while Justin leans forward with his elbows on his knees.
Justin’s playing on a portable game system. Chloe’s scrolling on her phone. Olivia is asleep against Justin’s shoulder, her mouth slightly open.
A frown tugs at my chapped lips.
How long have they been here?
Luke sits in a chair on the opposite side of the room, his jaw tight. He stares at the boxy TV bolted to the wall, where a football game plays silently, closed captions scrolling across the screen.
My gaze drifts to the other side of the bed, and my chest tightens.
Troy’s pulled a chair right up beside me. His head is tipped sideways against the backrest, eyes closed, completely passed out. Dark circles shadow the skin beneath his eyes, and his hair sticks up messily, the ends of his mullet a tangled mess.
God, he looks exhausted.
I try to clear my throat. The sound that comes out is rough and hoarse, scraping through the quiet room.
Five heads snap up.
“Oh my god—”
“You’re awake again!”
“Hey, Ashton!”
In the span of two seconds, they’re all on their feet and swarming the bed. Their voices overlap chaotically, impossible to decipher.
“Are you okay?”
“How are you feeling?”
“Do you need water?”
“Should we call the nurse?”
“Are you in pain?”
I blink up at them, still trying to catch up with what’s happening.
“I’m fine,” I rasp, lifting my good hand weakly. “Guys—”
They all stop talking at once, the room falling eerily silent.
“What’s going on?” I ask slowly. “What happened?”
They exchange looks, but nobody answers. For some reason, all of my siblings glance toward Troy expectantly—like they’re waiting for him to speak up. Like they want him to explain something.
Troy worries his bottom lip between his teeth, the silver ring piercing glinting beneath the harsh hospital lights. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
I clear my throat. “I remember heading to Mom and Dad’s house, but... after that, everything gets fuzzy.”
Olivia’s brow furrows. “Wait,” she says carefully. “You really don’t remember anything?”
I shake my head, then immediately wince as a sharp pain throbs through my temple. “Not really. Just bits and pieces.”
Justin frowns. “Not even when you first woke up after surgery?”
“Surgery?” I echo.
Chloe’s eyes widen slightly. “It’s been a full day since you came out of surgery, Ash.”
My stomach sinks. I look between all of them, suddenly more disoriented than before.
“A full day?”
No one says anything.
“Oh, shit.” I push myself a little straighter, ignoring the ache flaring through my side. I turn toward Justin as realization dawns on me. “That’s right. Your birthday dinner. I totally ruined it, didn’t I?”
Justin shakes his head and reaches over to squeeze my knee. “Don’t worry about it, bro. You can make it up to me later.”
“You just woke up in a goddamn hospital, and you’re worrying about Justin’s birthday?” Olivia scoffs, crossing her arms. “It was serious, Ash. You were nearly crushed to death.”
I sink back against the stiff hospital pillows, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I...” My voice catches. “I don’t remember any of that.”
A strange sense of dread begins to creep in.
I swallow against my dry throat and glance around the room.
“Wait.” My gaze moves from face to face. “Where are Mom and Dad?”
No one answers. Instead, they exchange another round of uneasy looks, like they’re silently debating who should speak first.
I let out a frustrated huff. “Tell me!”
Another heavy silence settles over the room.
Troy shifts in the chair beside me. He drags a hand down his face and pinches the bridge of his nose, drawing in a slow, steady breath. When he finally looks at me, his eyes are tired… and careful.
“When you first woke up after surgery,” he says slowly, “you were on some pretty strong pain meds.”
I frown faintly. “Okay…”
“You were pretty out of it,” he continues. “Didn’t really know what you were saying.”
My throat tightens.
“And?” I press.
Troy sighs. “You saw me standing in the room. And you… uh…”
“What did I do?” I demand.
He meets my eyes. “You called me your boyfriend.”
The room tilts. I stare down at the bedsheets, clutching the stiff fabric so hard it hurts. My heart hammers violently in my chest.
“In front of your whole family,” Troy adds quietly. “And… you asked me to kiss you.”
Everything inside me goes cold. Panic seizes the air in my lungs.
Oh my god.
The monitor beside the bed starts beeping faster, the rapid chirping filling the room as my pulse spikes.
I’ve ruined everything.
My breath comes out in sharp, painful bursts. I clutch at my stomach, my ribs throbbing with a fierce, piercing ache.
“Ash,” Troy says quickly.
His hand closes around mine, squeezing tight. I didn’t even realize he’d reached for me until his fingers lace through mine.
“Hey, hey—look at me.”
His other hand comes up, gently cupping my cheek and turning my face toward him.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re okay.”
My chest heaves as I try to breathe through the panic clawing at my lungs.
Olivia steps closer, brushing her hand softly through my hair. “We love you, Ash,” she says quietly. “All of us. And to be honest… I kinda already knew. Or at least, I had a gut feeling.”
Chloe gives a small, reassuring smile. “We’re here for you. That’s not going to change.”
Justin shrugs a little. “Yeah. We don’t care who you date.”
Olivia nods in agreement. “We just want you to be happy.”
I blink a few times. “What about Mom and Dad? Were they… angry?”
Olivia frowns. “Yeah. They left,” she says, her voice low and tense. “They’re… not happy.”
I scoff. “I just had surgery, and they left the goddamn hospital? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“We’re mad at them too,” Chloe cuts in.
“And they’re not coming back?” I ask, my voice cracking despite my best efforts.
Olivia shakes her head sadly, confirming what I’d already feared.
A bitter laugh scrapes its way out of my chest.
Of course they left.
I always knew this day would come eventually.
I spent my whole life bracing for it—waiting for the moment my father realized I wasn’t the son he tried so hard to shape.
The tough one. The straight one. The one who would take over the farm someday, marry a nice girl, give him grandkids, and carry on the Tremblay name exactly the way he envisioned it.
But that version of me never existed.
I can practically hear his voice in my head now—sharp, cold, final. The same tone he used when I made a mistake as a kid or showed any form of weakness. The same one he used anytime I fell short of whatever impossible standard he’d set that day.
And Mom… well. Mom has always been quieter. Gentler. But she’s spent her entire life orbiting around my father like he’s the sun, bending to whatever gravity he pulls her into. Too timid to challenge him. Too afraid to stand up to him, even when it mattered.
Even when it was for her own son.
If Dad walked out, she was always going to follow.
Justin gives a small, encouraging smile. “Fuck ’em, Ash. You don’t need them. We’re here for you.”
Tears sting my eyes, a confusing mix of sadness and relief settling in my chest. I haven’t lost all my siblings, and that’s something. But still…
My gaze drifts to Luke. Usually he can’t shut up.
He’s always got something to say, some sarcastic comment or stupid joke, but now he’s uncharacteristically silent.
He’s standing at the foot of my bed, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His shoulders are rigid, lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes are cold.
“Luke,” I say, my voice cracking despite my best effort to hold it steady. “I’m… sorry.”
His tongue slides slowly across his teeth. “Sorry for what?”
My eyes squeeze shut as guilt slams through me. Luke must feel completely betrayed, knowing I kept something this big from him, that I basically lied to him my whole life. Growing up, we were inseparable. There was no Ashton without Luke, and no Luke without Ashton.
But now… maybe I ruined that.
Troy’s hand squeezes mine again. “We’ll give you two some time to talk. Alone.”
He glances toward the others, and they seem to understand immediately.
Chloe gives me a gentle smile before stepping back.
Justin nods at me, his expression encouraging.
Olivia hesitates the longest. She looks between Luke and me, worry flickering across her face, before leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of my head.
“Don’t kill each other,” she pleads.
Then she straightens and heads for the door with the others.
Troy is the last to leave. His fingers slip from mine slowly, like he’s reluctant to let go. For a moment, he just looks at me—something soft and worried in his eyes—before he finally turns and follows them out.
The door shuts with a quiet click.
Silence floods the room.
Luke doesn’t move. He’s still frozen at the end of my bed, arms crossed, staring at the floor.
I swallow hard. “Luke…”
He shifts slightly and rubs the back of his neck, but he won’t look at me.
“Luke,” I try again, blinking back the sting behind my eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s just—”
“You didn’t trust me?” he interrupts, finally lifting his gaze.
I frown. “I—”
“I thought we told each other everything,” he says, his nose wrinkling. “I thought we were close, Ash. We don’t keep secrets from each other.”
I instinctively try to reach toward him, but the movement sends a sharp ripple of pain through my ribs. I flinch and sink back against the pillows with a quiet hiss.
Luke notices. His expression tightens, but he doesn’t step closer.
“I didn’t fully come to terms with it myself until recently,” I say quietly. “Until… Troy.”
Luke bites the inside of his cheek. “You love him?”
I hesitate for only a second. I haven’t even said those words out loud to Troy yet, but the truth pulses through me with unshakable certainty.
“I do,” I admit.
Luke’s throat bobs. “He’s a good man,” he says softly. “You could’ve told me.”
“But—”
He curses under his breath, dragging both hands through his hair. “I said so many shitty things in front of you because I—I didn’t know.” His voice cracks. “I made jokes. Said stupid things. And the entire time I had no clue I was hurting you.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay!” he snaps, pacing across the small room. “I was such an asshole.”
He stills on the opposite side of the room, his back rigid. He drags a hand through his hair.
“You thought I wouldn’t love you if I knew?” he asks, turning back toward me. “That I’d actually give a shit? I’m nothing like our parents, Ash. I’m not heartless.”
A tired sigh slips out of me. “I’m sorry.”
Luke winces. “Stop fucking apologizing, Ash. I should be the one apologizing.”
He circles around to the side of my bed. When he finally stops, I see the shimmer in his green eyes. For a second, my brain can’t even process it.
Luke… crying?
Even though I’m the oldest, Luke was always the strong one. When our first barn cat died, I cried for days until Dad finally snapped and called me a sissy, said he’d give me something to cry about if I didn’t shut up.
But Luke never cried. Not even when Dad made him bury the cat out behind the barn because I was too upset to do it myself. Luke always handled the tough things. The ugly things. The things I couldn’t.
But now he’s standing beside my hospital bed, tears spilling freely down his face as he looks at me. The ache in my chest at the sight hurts far worse than the broken bones.
Luke scrubs his knuckles over his eyes, sniffing once before letting out a shaky breath. “I love you, dude. You didn’t lose your family—not the ones that actually matter.”
I give a weary smile. “I love you too, bro.”
He steps forward. “Come here.”
Before I can protest—or remind him about my broken bones—he bends down and wraps his arms around me. Pain immediately explodes through my torso.
I suck in a sharp breath as my ribs protest, my casted arm awkwardly pinned between us. The hug is clumsy and probably medically inadvisable.
But Luke holds on anyway, crushing me like he’s trying to prove something.
I squeeze him back as best as I can with my good arm, my fingers gripping the back of his shirt.
“Easy,” I croak.
“Shut up, you wimp,” he mutters into my shoulder. “We’re having a moment.”
Despite the pain radiating through my body, I start laughing softly, tears sliding hot down my cheeks.
It hurts.
God, it hurts.
But I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.