30. Ashlynn
30
ASHLYNN
The town car glides smoothly through the airport’s pick-up lane, my heart races with anticipation as I scan the crowd for a familiar face. It’s been months since I last saw Aunt Bonnie, and the thought of finally hugging her again makes my chest tighten with emotion.
As soon as I spot her, I can’t contain my excitement. Before the car even comes to a complete stop, I fling the door open and make a beeline for her. Aunt Bonnie’s eyes light up when she sees me, and we collide in a warm, tight embrace.
She pulls back slightly, holding me at arm’s length to get a good look at me. “You look… something.”
“ Something ? Thanks.” My cheeks heat up under her intense scrutiny. “And right back at you. How was the flight?”
“Long,” her eyes crinkle with a warm smile, “but I’m just glad to be back.”
We climb into the backseat, settling in as Russ loads her suitcases into the trunk of the car. As the car pulls away from the curb, Aunt Bonnie and I sit side by side, our hands clasped together. It’s a small gesture, but it feels comforting, like we’re re-establishing our connection after so much time apart.
Even if it doesn’t feel that way. We talked, more-so on this trip than any of her other ones. But somethings are easier to keep from her when her inquisitive eyes aren’t scrutinizing my every expression. I’ve never been good about schooling my features around her.
“So, how’s everything been?” She turns to face me fully, her eyes bright with curiosity and warmth.
I let out a breath, trying to sum up the whirlwind of the past few months. “It’s been... a lot. But good. Really, really good. I got into Bayard.”
Her face lights up with pride. “As you should, Lynn! I’m so proud of you.”
I grin, the excitement bubbling up again. “Thank you! Now I have to figure out those pesky little adult-ing details, like where to live. I’m torn between staying in the dorms or finding a place off-campus.”
She nods thoughtfully. “Both have their pros and cons.”
“I’ve been leaning towards the dorms,” I admit, twirling a strand of hair around my finger. “It seems like the best way to immerse myself in the Bayard experience, you know? And I think it would be easier to meet people that way.”
She nods again, her eyes attentive and warm. “That makes sense. Even though having your own place would offer more freedom and quiet, living in the dorms could be a great way to build a community right away. You can make some real and genuine friends, not the kind that fixate on the size of your wallet. Or, other things.”
I glance down at my hands, a slight blush creeping up my cheeks. “Yeah. It’s a lot to think about, and Gilbert’s been really supportive about it. He’s... really understanding.”
She catches my tone and raises an curios eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “ Supportive , huh? That blush tells me there’s more to the story.”
I feel my cheeks heat up even more. “It’s nothing,” I mumble, looking out the window to avoid her knowing gaze. The city’s bustle seems distant, the car a cocoon of privacy.
Aunt Bonnie isn’t buying it, though. She leans in, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You were always a bit vague about him whenever we talked on the phone, but now that we’re here, you can’t dodge the question.”
I bite my lip, caught between wanting to keep things private and feeling like I can’t hide anything from her.
Her voice softens, and she squeezes my hand. “So, is there more to this supportiveness?”
After what feels like an eternity, my eyes meet hers again, a shy smile tugging at my lips. “Yes, there is. And I’m happy. He makes me happy.” Amongst other things.
Her face lights up with a warm, knowing yet approving smile. “I’m glad, Lynn. You deserve to be happy.”
As the car slows to a stop in front of the gates to the mansion, I fidget slightly, feeling the weight of what I’m about to say next. “Just... please don’t make it weird because of the age difference, okay? It’s been a bit of a thing with some people, and I don’t want it to be a thing with us.”
Her expression softens, and she squeezes my hand again. “Lynn, age is just a number. As long as you’re happy and he’s good to you, that’s what matters.” She pauses, a nostalgic smile tugging at her lips. “My first wife was 40 years older than me, and we had a beautiful life together, despite what anyone else thought.”
I blink in surprise. Aunt Bonnie rarely talks about her first wife, the Mrs. Walsh who passed away before I was born. “Really? I didn’t know that.”
Her eyes go distant with memory. “Yes. She was a wonderful woman. We had our share of challenges, but the love we shared, though short-lived, was worth everything. Don’t let anyone else’s opinions get in the way of your happiness.”
Her words resonate deeply, and I smile, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “Thank you, Aunt Bonnie. That means a lot.”
We step out of the car, and the chilly spring breeze air greets us. As we make our way inside, we’re greeted by Melissa, whose face lights up with a warm smile as she sees Aunt Bonnie.
“I was beginning to think I’d have to retire again before you showed your face around here,” she teases, her voice full of genuine affection.
Aunt Bonnie returns her smile, stepping forward to give her a quick hug. “Yeah, well. Too busy saving the world, but it’s good to be back. How have you been?”
“Oh, keeping busy as always,” Mrs. Harris replies, glancing at me with a fond smile. “Ash has been doing well, but I’m sure she’s missed you.”
I grin, nodding in agreement. “Definitely. It’s not the same without you around.”
Elizabeth chuckles softly. “Well, I’m here now. At least for the next few hours, but then I really want to sleep in my own bed.” She gives me a pointed look. “It’ll be months before my next trip anyway.”
We head upstairs to the private living room, a cozy, sunlit space filled with comfortable chairs and bookshelves lined with novels and family photos. In the last few months, I added more family pictures of Mom, Rachel, and Aunt Bonnie to the space. And one of Dad.
Aunt Bonnie and I settle into the plush armchairs, and I pull out the papers Mr. Greenfield wanted us to go over. Standard stuff, mostly to do with the initial terms of the settlement. She chuckles as she reads through the new amendments that Mr. Greenfield wanted her to double-check.
“Looks like Gilbert got under Clement’s skin. Good for him!” She glances up from the papers. “What was Clement thinking, accessing your therapy records without your permission? Even if it’s from five years ago, he had no right.”
“Gilbert owns Aspen Groove. Maybe he wanted confirmation that those sessions weren’t a sham.” Why am I playing devil’s advocate for the man who ruined my life?
“Right.” Aunt Bonnie sarcastically drawls. “He must have missed the part where Gilbert was out of the country at the time. Or the medication you’ve been taking for the last five years.”
I shrug. “Or he probably thought he should’ve been entitled to know how his money was spent.”
“Then he should’ve thought about that before getting behind the wheel while intoxicated. He knew that you were hospitalized, and were in therapy for a while. All that was disclosed in the lawsuit papers. And in the financial statements the Blackwells get every year, which is us going above and beyond. The details of what was said during your therapy sessions four or five years ago are not Clement’s concern.” She signs the pages assigned to her before tucking the papers back into the manila file. “That should amend the last five years of payments.”
I look at her, the lines on her face slightly deeper than I remember. I know she’s worried about me. “You’re not going to stop until the man’s bankrupt, are you?”
“No, just disinherited.” She admits with a shrug. “Nobody messes with my favorite niece. And if we don’t do things this way, he will never learn otherwise. That said, I believe his parents are finally starting to see the light. Who knows how long it’ll be before anything actually gets implemented?”
I shake my head, smiling fondly. From what I know about Mr and Mrs Blackwell, they seem like nice people. Then again, parents can do everything right and their kids could still turn out like Clement.
“How are your driving lessons with Russ going?” Aunt Bonnie asks, changing the subject.
“Okay, I guess. It’s taking longer than I expected, but Russ is a very patient teacher.”
She nods, her expression encouraging. “You’ll get there. Eventually. How’s therapy been?”
“It’s been good, actually,” I tell her, feeling a bit more relaxed. “And Dr. Jenkins has been helping me a lot with the transition and everything else.”
“Sheila Jenkins?” she asks.
I nod. “Gilbert suggested her, and I’m glad he did. Why? You two have history?”
“Ancient history,” she waves me off, but her eyes twinkle with nostalgia.
I lean forward, my curiosity piqued. “Really? What kind of history?”
She glances toward the door, where Gilbert could walk through at any moment. “ Very ancient history,” she says, then pins me with a look. “Nothing you should concern yourself with.”
Sounds ominous.
“Does Gilbert know?” He and Dr. Jenkins are friends.
She considers this, her brow furrowing slightly. “Maybe. I have not seen your therapist naked, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I shrug. “I’m not.”
“Good.” She tilts her head, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Sheila is an acquittance of a friend of a friend, is all.”
“If you say so.” Aunt Bonnie is usually a lot more convincing that that, but I’ll let it slide for now. “Speaking of Gilbert, stop trying to buy this house from him. It’s ours now.”
She freezes, her smile faltering “It’s… what ?”
“We co-own it, Gilbert and I. Along with a bunch of other stuff.”
An indecipherable look crosses through her eyes. “What other stuff?”
“Stuff.” I shrug. “It was a lot of paperwork. But he checked with Mr. Greenfield, and none of it affects the Blackwell settlement. Speaking of the settlement, Mr. Greenfield told me that he got another letter from the Blackwells, Clement’s parents I mean. They want a sit-down with all of us, but are waiting for you to come back. Somehow, Clement got a hold of my recent medical records, and was raising a fuss over my tattoo. Something about body modifications not covered under the provisions of the settlement. Then Gilbert riped Clement a new one, because he accessed those records illegally. Again. The Blackwells are more scared of you, so they want to put out the flames before things get even messier than they already are.” I pin her with a look. “What is with you three and suing people?”
She crosses her hands. “Is that why you didn’t tell me about Principal Richardson? Or Leland?”
I should’ve known she would find out eventually. “Gilbert is handling it. He promised not to tell you yet.” He didn’t, but it’s best to let her think he did. “How did you find out, anyway?”
She leans back, sighing softly. “Lynn, I have always had access to your cloud account. Russ and Will, too.”
Of course she does.
I pull out my phone and log into it, then scroll to the settings. Sure enough, she’s on it. Russ and Mr. Greenfield are on it now, too. So is Gilbert, but I only agreed to give him access because he was eating me out in the shower and denying me my orgasm.
Aunt Bonnie doesn’t need to know that part. She and I, have always had a special bond, but some details are best left unsaid.
I let out a weary sigh. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Gilbert. Same thing I told Mr. Greenfield. I just want peace. All I want, is to graduate high school in peace. Feel free to sue after I’ve walked across that stage and gotten my diploma.”
“Fine.” Aunt Bonnie sighs, her eyes softening. “Gilbert is alright, I guess. For someone who married his sister.”
I freeze. My phone slips from my fingers, landing on the floor with a thud.
Umm… what?
The room seems to tilt, and I clutch the edge of the couch. A part of me wonders if she’s just saying that to hurt me for not telling her about Leland, but it doesn’t appear to be the case.
She continues, seemingly unaware of the effect that revelation has on me. “I did hear rumors that…”
Blood rushes to my ears, drowning out the sound of her voice. The air feels thick, like it’s hard to breathe.
“His… what ?” I finally manage to say, my voice shaking.
She stops talking. Her head tilts as she studies me, confusion flickering in her eyes. “Him and Rachel were step-siblings. Did he not tell you that?”
The room seems to shrink around me, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
“How dare you?” I force out between clenched teeth
She doesn’t flinch. “How dare I?”
“Just because you don’t like him, it doesn’t mean you can make up things about him.”
“Lynn, don’t put words in my mouth. Not once did I ever say I didn’t like him. And I have no reason to lie to you about something like that.”
Gilbert walks into the room, his face lighting up when he sees us, oblivious to the storm he’s just walked into. His eyes find mine, and he must see something there because his smile falters.
“What’s going on?” His gaze shifts between Aunt Bonnie and myself.
I stand, my legs feeling like jelly. “Is it true?” I ask him, my voice barely above a whisper. “Rachel was your sister?”
His face pales, and that’s all the confirmation I need.
“Not by blood,” I hear Aunt Bonnie say, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. It makes me feel worse. Much, much more worse.
Used, too.
“Ash, I can explain.” Gilbert takes a step toward me, but I hold up my hand, stopping him.
“Did Mom know?”
He nods. “Rachel told her.”
“Before or after they slept together?”
He looks away, guilt etched into every line of his face. “Before.”
“I see. I guess I wasn’t deemed important or trustworthy enough to know.”
“No, it wasn’t like that.” He shakes his head, desperation creeping into his voice. “You already have so much on your plate, and I didn’t want to burden you with that knowledge.”
“Burden me? That’s rich, coming from you.” I feel a sob rising in my throat, but I swallow it down. “All my life, people have either used me for different reasons, or treated me like this fragile little thing that can’t handle the real world.”
“That’s not true,” he says, his voice breaking. “You are so much more than that, Ash. What I feel for you... it’s different, it’s?—”
“Feelings aside,” I interject, cutting him off. “This is worse, Gilbert. Far worse than anything I could’ve imagined. I trusted you, with a lot of things. Things I don’t share with anyone else. But you don’t trust me enough to reciprocate.”
“I do trust you, and I wanted to tell you,” he says, his voice full of desperation. “I just didn’t know how.”
“How? You and I, we talk plenty! You’ve had ample opportunity to do so! Hell, you could’ve told me when you were signing your life away to me…” I trail off at that, as something else clicks into place. “When you said you see Rachel in me, was that… did you…” I trail off, my voice cracking, “you meant that literally, didn’t you?”
“Ash, please, it’s not what you think.” He steps closer, hands outstretched as if to touch me, to ground me. “I was trying to protect you.”
“Protect me?” I echo, my voice rising. “From what? From the truth?”
“Yes,” he says, his voice full of desperation. “No. I don’t know. I didn’t want you to see me differently. My family... it’s complicated.”
“Complicated?” I choke out a laugh, bitter and raw. “Everything about this is complicated. Or maybe it’s not that. You wanted to fuck your sister, and I was the next best thing.”
He blanches. I do too.
The words hang in the air, heavy and damning. The color slowly drains from his face, until all that’s left is a shell of a man.
I can’t believe what’s worse — that I’ve been subconsciously thinking that all this time, or that it sounds worse to hear the words said out loud. It feels like I’ve been punched in the gut, so I imagine it feels worse for him.
“Lynn,” Aunt Bonnie says, her voice gentle but firm, “You need to stop talking.”
I can’t believe her.
I pin her with an angry look. “You’re taking his side?”
“No, I’m not taking any one’s side. But I know you. I know if you keep talking, you will say something you are going to regret.”
Regret?
This gets worse?
I feel tears welling up, but I blink them back. “I can’t do this right now.” I say, my voice trembling. “I need to get out of here. I need space to think.”
“Don’t go,” he pleads, pain clear in his eyes. “Stay, please. I’ll leave. The house belongs to you.”
Seriously?
I turn away, unable to look at him. “Fine. Just go.”
He hesitates for a moment, then nods, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He walks to the door, glancing back at me one last time before stepping out. The door closes behind him with a soft click, and the silence that follows is deafening.
I crumble to the floor, the weight of everything too much to bear. Sobs wrack my body, and I feel Aunt Bonnie’s arms around me, pulling me close.
“Oh, Lynn,” she whispers, stroking my hair. “People keep secrets for all kinds of reasons. It doesn’t make it right, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t trust you.”
I cling to her, my tears soaking her shirt. “Weren’t you just defending him a minute ago?”
“I know you know me better than that,” she says softly. “I know the context, but you don’t.”
“Care to share?”
She’s quiet for a beat. Then, “No. He should be the one to tell you. Not that you are in a receptive mood right now.”
Great.
Just fucking great.
I shift, with the intention of getting out of her arms and going after him, but she hugs me tighter. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To get some answers.”
“I don’t think so.” She chuckles, but it’s strained. “I realize that you are new to the nuances of how intimate relationships work, but try not to be your usual self right now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She lets out a weary sigh. “It means, the man is hurting. Your words really hurt him. He needs space as much as you do.”
“And if he never comes back?”
“Somehow, I don’t see that happening. You two are legally bound to each other anyway. He might as well have given you a ring. For once, allow yourself to feel heartbreak, like a normal person. I have faith in you, Lynn. I know that you’ll figure it out. And whatever you decide, I’m here for you.”
Her words are a small comfort, but the pain remains, sharp and unyielding. I close my eyes, letting the tears fall, wishing with all my heart that this was all just a bad dream.