34. Ashlynn
34
ASHLYNN
I arrive at the café thirty minutes early, my stomach in knots, my heart pounding in my chest. It’s bad enough that I have to pause outside, and take a moment to gather myself. Last night, I barely slept a wink. I tossed and turned all night long, his blunt words playing in my mind on repeat. None of the three icy cold showers I took could damper the raging lust coursing through my veins.
Then this morning happened.
I got called — summoned, more like — into one of the conference rooms at Bluegrass, just after first period. Mr. Greenfield, Aunt Bonnie and Russ were present, along with three suits from Greenfield & Barrett Legal Group, and even more on the other side. Make that sides . Plural, as in Principal Richardson, the Guidance Counselor Thompson, Coach Hughes, their lawyers, and some more suits from the school district.
All there for little ol’ me.
And I came out of that meeting wealthier than I already am.
A normal person would feel bad that three people got fired and one of them is going to jail for other things, but I’m not normal. And they had it coming. As it so happens, I’m not the only student these three have done this to. I don’t even care that the school’s going to have to do some serious damage control because of this, and for years to come. But I was positively giddy that Mr. Greenfield threatened an even noisier lawsuit if there’s any whiff of slander to my name.
As much as I’d like to graduate in a few weeks in peace, I’d like to see those three try it, especially Principal Richardson. Then again, Aunt Bonnie and Mr. Greenfield are acting like none of this is a surprise to them, and that we will all be in a courtroom in a few weeks anyway.
I’m not even mad that Gilbert went behind my back and did exactly what I told him not to do. I just miss him so much.
When I finally step inside the café, I see him immediately. He’s sitting at my table, his eyes glued to his phone. He looks up as I enter, and our eyes meet for the first time in four days.
A jolt of electricity courses through me. Thank goodness the room is empty, because I’m not even being subtle about the fact that I’m undressing him with my eyes.
Gilbert stands as I approach, a mix of relief and lust and nervousness etched on his face. “Ash,” he says, his voice hoarse and laden with emotion.
I nod, struggling to find my own voice. He gestures to the table, where two cups of tea sit, steam rising gently from them.
“I got your favorite,” he says, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.
I take a seat, feeling the familiar warmth of the tea cup between my hands. “Thank you,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
We sit there in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between us. Around us, the café slowly empties out, and the staff working go about closing up. I tuned them all out though. All I can focus on is the man sitting across from me, and the puzzled expression on his face as his eyes follow their movements. At some point, one of them — a manager, according to his nametag, but I’ve never seen him before — walks over to us and hands me an manila envelope and ring of keys. He steals a glances at Gilbert, letting out a low, appreciative whistle before sauntering off.
Gilbert’s eyes meet mine once again, and he lifts a curious brow.
“About that,” I pull out the pages and skim through them. “I kind of bought the place.”
“You… kind of bought the place?”
I nod. “I used your money to buy it. Well, our money,” I amend as I tuck the pages back into their envelope and set them aside. “But they don’t know that, and as far as the owner is concerned, some rich anonymous socialite is willing to sink a bunch of money into this place just because. But I assure you, my motives are a lot less altruistic.”
The corner of his lip tugs up. “Oh?”
I look at him, the familiar ache in my chest tightening. “I think you know what I need.”
He takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine. “Ash…”
“You wanted to meet in a public place. This,” I twirl my finger in the air, “is a public place. You never said anything about other people being present. And… I got the sense that you didn’t want anyone listening in on our conversation.”
He gives me a weak smile, and takes a sip of his tea.
As we sit there, with my favorite tea cooling in front of me, I brace myself for the conversation ahead. It’s going to be painful, but it’s necessary. For both of us.
One of us has to open the floor for discussion. It might as well be me.
“I took a closer look at the types of small businesses that Rachel owned,” I begin, “and they were things that brought her joy. This place makes me happy, so…” I trail off at that, and shrug.
“And are you happy?” he asks, studying me.
I shake my head slowly. “Not at the moment, no.” The ache in my chest spreads. “But I’m working on it. Trying to, anyway.”
His jaw clenches, his expression shifts to one of regret. His lips part to speak, but I cut him off.
“What about you? How have you been? Where have you been staying? Why won’t you let me see it?” I didn’t mean to dump on him like that, but the questions, they just… popped out.
He reaches over and takes both my hands in his. The calming effect that the gesture has on me is instantaneous. “Struggling. Missing you like crazy. At a friend’s place, but I didn’t want to overstay my welcome, so I checked into a hotel room last night. If you really want to see it, we can go there after this.”
“Can we go now?”
Real nice, Ashlynn. Classy.
And desperate much?
For him? Always.
The twinkle I’ve come to love makes an appearance. “Ash, there’s so much I need to tell you," he says instead, his voice trembling slightly.
I nod, my heart pounding in my chest. “Go on,” I say softly.
He looks down at our entwined hands, gathering his thoughts. “My family is… complicated, always has been. Rachel was my best friend, and I hers. We met when we were fourteen, and were inseparable after. That part, neither of us lied about. But what we didn’t tell people was that the only reason we met was because my father married her mother. It was sudden too. As in, I came home from school one day to a new step mother and step sister. And that was that.
“Funny thing is, I wasn’t interested in a mother figure and Rachel wasn’t interested in a father figure either, so we bonded over our shared mutual dislike of the unwanted parental figures in our respective lives.” A sad smile plays at his lips as he admits this. “Then, over time, we discovered we had a lot more in common. Same books, same movies, same favorite foods, you name it. I was an A+ student at the top of my class, while Rachel was a C+ student at best — according to her mother when they first moved in — so naturally we started studying together. Her grades got better, which everybody liked, and eventually we turned that into a friendly competition because that’s who we were. Plus, it was fun having someone to study with who didn’t automatically assume you would let them cheat off you. But it was more than that. We trusted each other. We were each other’s safe haven. Aside from studying, we did everything together, except for ballet, of course. I would tag along to dance competitions with her, mostly because apart from studying I had nothing better to do.”
I feel a pang of sympathy, but I remain silent, letting him continue.
“In hindsight, I can see why people didn’t believe us when we said we weren’t sleeping together, given how close we were. Her mother, especially, did not believe us. She was adamant about it too, because boys and girls cannot be just friends. We were seventeen at the time. We didn’t date other people. We didn’t have other friends apart from each other, just lots of acquaintances. So, to get her mother off our backs, Rachel told her the truth: that she wasn’t interested in my genitals. Her mother put two and two together, and… things got worse. The idea of having a lesbian for a daughter was somehow worse than said daughter having sex with her step brother. And, that’s where she got my dad involved.”
He pauses, his eyes meeting mine. “My father... he wasn’t a good man. He was abusive, controlling, and manipulative. And also homophobic, which is something I didn’t know at the time because he hid that part of himself well. Too well, in fact. So when her mother told him to break her daughter using any means necessary, he…” his voice cracks, and he looks away, tears glistening in his eyes. “When he raped her for the first time, he found out that she was a virgin. They both did, because her mother watched. She didn’t just watch, she held open her own daughter’s legs while her husband violated her. And when it was done, my father came to my room and tossed the bloody sheets as some sort of souvenir.”
He slips his fingers out of mine and they curl into fists as a violent shudder racks his body, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. I reach across the table and place my hand over his, giving him as much time to collect himself, yet letting him know I was there.
“It should have ended there,” he continues after some time. “Our parents had gotten what they wanted. They broke something in Rachel that day. And since they had confirmation that Rachel and I had been telling the truth all along, that we weren’t sleeping together, it really should have ended there. It didn’t. It wasn’t enough that my father raped her repeatedly, with her mother’s permission and participation. He started making me watch too. After the second time, I asked him why he thought what he was doing was okay, meanwhile his own son was…” he shakes his head at that. “I thought mouthing off to him would trigger some sort of dad guilt, but... he turned on me, too. And no, he didn’t let his wife do the honors. He did that himself. I don’t think her mother cared either way. I think she got off on watching her husband rape their children, and in making Rachel and I watch anytime he raped the other.
“When Rachel and I ran away from home, we had no intention of ever going back. We were eighteen when we did, so it’s not like they could drag us back home. As far as we were concerned, they were dead to us. It was Rachel’s idea that we get married, and it was my idea that we change our last names to McKenzie. The name was nothing special, it was something I picked out of the phone book. Getting married allowed us to legally do both at the same time. It wasn’t just because it was convenient, it was to make it harder for our parents to find us. And, if/when they did, it was to prevent them from legally interfering in our lives. We weren’t advertising the fact that we were step siblings because that part of our past was rife with trauma and raw wounds that never completely healed. We were best friends who just happened to be married, so that’s the version of our shared history that we went with that.
“When I told you that Rachel struggled with the money I was making when I worked for the CIA, it wasn’t because of the classified assignments. Well, that was a small part of it. Her biggest hang-up was that I was giving her the money because of guilt. Guilt for what my father did to her, to us. And… she wasn’t wrong. I did feel guilty that I wasn’t able to protect her. And some of the places I was sent to were dangerous, and I wanted her to be taken care of, should anything happen to me. The fact that we were married made that easier. If we weren’t, the money would have gone to my father as my next of kin. That past was something I had to disclose to the CIA when I was recruited, as a part of my security clearance. I would rather chop off my left testicle than see a dime of our hard-earned money go to either one of them. I know you were wondering why it was so easy for me to put you on all of our accounts, this is why. It’s what Rachel would’ve done anyway.”
He pauses at that, dragging his eyes back to mine. His face is wet, his eyes red and puffy. I think mine are too, but I don’t say anything. He needs to get this off his chest, and I need to listen.
“Rachel and I, our relationship was never sexual, despite everything our parents put us through. And, it took a really, really long time and a lot of fucking work before either of us could trust our hearts and bodies with anyone else. When Rachel met Hannah, a lot of things just… clicked. Me? It took longer to find. I did try, once. It took one date for me to realize I would rather remain single than settle. It’s not that I’m ashamed of my past or anything like that. I’ve accepted the fact that it will always be a part of me. And I love the work that I do, but I know what my limitations are. I don’t work with patients with a history of childhood sexual abuse, because that hits too close to home for me.
“I know you found out about the lawsuit today. I’m sorry you had to find out that way, but I’m not sorry about Principal Richardson going to jail. Or any of the others. Will said the superintendent had been looking for an excuse to terminate her, and the lawsuit gave them an excuse to do so. Truth is, adults are supposed to protect you, not pile onto your pain. And people like that don’t learn, unless you hit them where it hurts the most. I failed Rachel in that regard, and I’ll be damned if I fail you too.”
He squeezes my hand, his eyes filled with pain and remorse. “I should have told you all this before we... before things got serious between us. But I was afraid, Ash. Afraid that if you knew the truth about Rachel and I, you’d see me differently. That my father’s sins would become my own in your eyes, and you’d leave me. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. I just… I can’t.”
His voice cracks again, and that does it for me. I rise, push the table aside and crawl into his lap. He’s stunned at first, but then I bury my face in his neck and wrap my arms around his torso, bringing our bodies flush. It takes a moment before I feel his arms around me too, and his face in my neck. A wave of relief washes over me, and I feel the weight I’ve been carrying start to lift. Tears spill down my cheeks and I squeeze him tighter. It’s not long before I feel an answering wetness on my shoulder. The words, though unspoken, flow between us with ease, like their own silent symphony. We sit in silence, breathing each other in, the tension between us easing.
“I’m yours, Ash,” he mumbles against my neck. “Always.”
I choke on a sob. “What?”
He leans back and tucks my hair behind my ear, his gaze never leaving mine. “I love you,” he whispers, the sound so low that I almost can’t hear it.
But I do.
And my chest feels as if it’s grown wings and is currently flying among the fallen angels. And I choke on another sob. “You do?” Not sure why that comes off as a question, when it was meant to be a statement.
He nods, a grin splitting his face. “Yes, Ash. I do. I love you so much, it consumes me. You consume me. You are all I think about. You are my home, Ash. I didn’t think it was ever going to happen for me, not in this lifetime. But then I saw you, dancing at Rachel’s grave and it just… it clicked for me then. That’s when I knew for sure.” He cups my face in his hands, his touch gentle and reassuring. “I should’ve told you this when I asked you to stay, but I didn’t even realize it myself. And yes, I struggled with it at first, but… souls know no age, and mine recognized yours from the start, even though the rest of me took so long to catch up.”
I bite my lip, trying to stem the flow of tears but it is futile. “I love you too,” I whisper back, tears blurring my vision. “I love you so much, and I… Please come home. I need you home, with me, wherever that may be.” His lips kick up as the words spill out of me, with no filter. “I don’t even care where life takes us, just as long as we are together. Commitment is important to you, so marry me?—”
He cuts me off, searing his lips to mine. His tongue sweeps between my lips, taking over the kiss. Looping my arms around his neck, I kiss him back. It’s desperate, this kiss. It’s like he wants to climb inside and hide, while I want to cling to him and not let go. I will never let him go.
He nips my lip as he breaks away. “There’s a certain order to these things, Ash.”
“You and I, we’ve never been conventional. Why start now?”
He wipes away a tear, leaving a shiver in the wake of his touch. “What if I want to be?”
“Fine. You can take my last name then.”
I’m joking, but his eyes go serious.
“Deal,” is all he says, and then he’s back to kissing me.
I kiss him back harder, my heart aches with love and gratitude for this man who means the world to me.
For the first time in days, I feel a glimmer of hope. We have a long road ahead of us, but at least we’re in this together. And we will face whatever comes our way, together.