Chapter 10 – Ainsleigh
ten
AINSLEIGH
After dinner, I had to leave. I couldn’t remain in that house with Bella so heavy in my mind. I changed into a tank top and shorts. After I put on my tennis shoes and grabbed my phone, I set off to the one place I knew I could go to think.
The tree.
A place we all often came to think. The fields were behind me. The sunset from up here was always amazing.
Leaning against the sturdy bark, I let my head fall on the tree, and my eyes closed just so I could be. No one here to question how I was feeling. No one to pretend in front of. I could kick, scream, cry and no one would ever find out.
Instead of riding Sparkle, I walked the two-mile hike to try to clear my head before I arrived.
I failed. My thoughts were more rampant than ever.
Seeing her name on his flesh broke more of my heart.
That reminder sent my mind racing and the tears falling faster than they ever had before.
I thought of her daily. The second I woke, her name was at the forefront of my mind.
It wasn’t until I got to moving around and filling my day to keep me busy that my thoughts drifted to what I was doing.
That was why I hardly ever sat still at college.
If I wasn’t working, I was studying. If I wasn’t studying, Dylan and Aspen were there to occupy me.
I hated being alone. That was when every memory came flooding back to me, and I broke down.
I loved growing up in Haven Valley, a small town in the central part of Texas. My childhood consisted of horses, meeting all kinds of people, loving parents, annoying siblings, and Gentry. He might’ve been my brother’s best friend first, but he quickly became my everything.
Life was grand.
Until it wasn’t.
That was when I decided leaving was my one and only option.
To save myself and my sanity, I got a late acceptance to Emory and Henry College in Virginia.
Instead of going to Texas State University, which was the obvious choice and one I received an early acceptance to, I decided to take my chances and flee across the country.
My parents weren’t happy to say the least. Out of state tuition costs were extreme, but I couldn’t stay here.
Being here now caused my anxiety to soar, but I couldn’t stay away any longer.
Excuses no longer worked. It looked like my options were dwindling by the second since I’d gotten the email from one of the companies that I’d applied to informing me they had chosen other candidates.
Only one option remained, and if I wasn’t chosen, I’d have to stay here until I could figure something else out.
The crunching of grass broke me out of my thoughts. I lifted my head off the tree and placed my hand over my eyes to block them from the setting sun to see who dared come up here.
Gentry.
Why is he always there when I’m breaking down?
All because every time I broke down he was there for me to lean on. I needed to figure out the best way to lean on myself and heal. Without him there. But apparently, he wasn’t having it.
“Any confessions today?”
We called it the confession tree for a reason.
“No.” I choked on a sob. I didn’t want him to see me breaking down. I didn’t want to explain the reason for my tears. I wanted to be alone in my pain just the way I’d been the past four years. I’d carried this pain for so long I didn’t know how to let someone else help me through it.
Instead, he sat beside me.
Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone?
“I’m not in the mood, Gentry.”
“In the mood for what exactly?”
Was he really that dense?
“To be around people.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I can’t handle the way I feel right now with anyone around,” I confessed.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I’m not leavin’. You shouldn’t be alone to wallow in your thoughts. This is our grief to share,” he replied as he moved closer behind me.
Our legs touched, and I finally took a moment to take him in. He still wore the same outfit he had on earlier in the day when I’d seen him.
I should insist he leave. But I couldn’t. My mind was spent. Done with all the emotions coursing through me.
“Talk to me, butterfly.”
I knew what he referred to when he made that demand, but I couldn’t.
Instead I asked, “Why are you still here, Gentry?”
“This is my home.”
His response shocked me to the point that I turned to look at him.
“But why? You could’ve lived with your parents after I left. I’m sure they were happy we weren’t together anymore.” His parents hated that we were together. They didn’t like the fact that my family had money while his didn’t.
I didn’t miss the way he flinched.
“Oh, they were. They couldn’t have been happier if they tried. They said things. Horrible words that I couldn’t forgive them for. But that’s a confession for another time.”
Gentry’s family had arrived in Haven Valley right before his freshman year of high school.
My brother Holden had instantly befriended him on the football field during tryouts.
I’d learned through conversations I’d overheard between him and Holden that his parents never stayed in one place for very long.
Hence Gentry’s hesitation to befriend my brother.
But Holden being Holden, he didn’t take no for an answer.
Slowly, Gentry came around to accepting Holden’s friendship, and quickly became a fixture around our home.
Where Holden was, Gentry wasn’t far behind, and as a teenage girl, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
As we grew older, we fell in love with each other almost as soon as our interest in the opposite sex started.
My brother didn’t take it very well at first, but he’d come around.
We’d been inseparable ever since. Until the day I’d up and left.
“I’m sorry they treated you that way. What did they say that was so horrible?” I was almost too afraid to ask.
“You’re not ready to hear that just yet. One day, when you are, I’ll confess every dirty word. Until then, just know, I stood my ground with them. I cut them out of my life. For good.”
That was just sad. He literally had no one now. My heart hurt for him. I couldn’t imagine never speaking to my parents again.
One lone tear drop fell down my cheek. His thumb caught the wetness and wiped it away just before it could fall off my chin.
“Don’t cry for me, darlin’. I’m okay. It was for the best anyway. Someday soon you’ll understand that.”
His eyes told me that he was speaking the truth. There was a hint of sadness in them, but also happiness. That was all I’d wanted for both of us. To be happy. I wished mine could express the same emotion. Only, I wasn’t quite there just yet. Maybe someday I would be. Only time could tell.
“What’ve you been up to today? Aside from landing in horse manure?” he asked, trying to lighten the heavy mood that surrounded us.
“I’ve been texting Dylan and Aspen. I wanted to make sure they were having a safe drive.”
He didn’t need to know that I’d video chatted with them to come up with a plan.
Operation Divert Gentry would be in full effect come tomorrow.
I didn’t even know what that meant. All I had to say was I needed a way to get Gentry to give me some space, and they said they’d take care of it.
I was scared to even ask. But that was Dylan and Aspen.
They were both quick and good at thinking on their feet.
I was sure their plan would cause chaos, but I missed them.
It’d only been a day, but we’d been inseparable since our freshman year.
I’d grown used to being around them all the time.
We’d all even gotten a place together at the start of our sophomore year.
It would suck when they had to leave and go their separate ways.
Especially since my plans were still up in the air, but when I saw my future, these Texas hills were left in my rearview.
We sat there in peace and quiet, my head resting on the tree next to his, while we watched the sun setting off in the distance.
After it fell behind the trees, he finally spoke.
“You ready to head in, butterfly? It can be dangerous out here after dark,” he asked without moving from behind me.
He was right. We should go in. But I didn’t want to ruin the bubble we’d created out here.
Reluctantly, I stood. His hands went to my waist to make sure I didn’t fall as he stood beside me.
His strong fingers gripped me from behind, and my body tensed at the same time I shivered.
Why did this man still have this effect on me?
Especially when I needed to steer clear of him.
He didn’t remove his hand from my waist as we walked toward the house.
I didn’t have the heart to ask him to remove it after he made that confession at the tree.
We stopped in front of the stable that he called home when we returned.
“We should talk about everything,” he suggested, and I instantly tensed.
“I’m not ready,” I admitted.
“Ainsleigh, we need…”
“Just give me time,” I begged as I started edging toward the house.
“It’s been four years.”
“And I said I’m not ready,” I snapped.
“When will you be ready?” he asked with a bite to his tone.
I understood why we needed to clear the air and why he insisted on pushing me, but I just couldn’t.
My mouth opened and closed as I tried coming up with an answer, some reason why we needed to put off having this conversation just a little longer, only for words to fail me as emotion choked me.
Without responding, I turned and stomped away.
I hurried my pace and raced inside up to the bedroom that haunted my nightmares.
I grabbed my clothes and went into my bathroom and took a hot shower.
As the water ran over me, I didn’t withhold my sobs and let the tears fall.
I knew I hurt him the way I ran away. I couldn’t manage to not continue hurting the only man I’d ever truly loved, but I couldn’t give him what he wanted. Not now. Maybe not ever.
I didn’t stop crying after I got out of the shower and dressed in a spaghetti strap shirt and a pair of sleep shorts.
On shaky legs, I walked into my bedroom and quietly shut the door.
I didn’t want my parents to hear me breaking down and coming into my room, so I connected my phone to the speaker on my nightstand and pressed play on my music app.
Tossing my phone on the nightstand, I threw myself onto my bed, and buried my head into the pillow as gut-wrenching sobs escaped.
I cried for the loss of my baby girl. I cried for the loss of the past four years with my family.
And I cried for the young girl who had so much hope for the future that was shattered in an instant.
I let the sobs come and didn’t try to choke them down for the first time in four years.
A knock on my door so light I almost didn’t hear it caused me to lift my head and listen to make sure I wasn’t hearing things that weren’t there.
Another light tap sounded, and I walked over to the door as I tried to rein in my emotions.
I wiped the tears from my face and collected myself as best as I could before I opened the door to find Gentry standing there, concern etched on his face as he took in the sight of me.
“Oh, butterfly,” he said, his voice breaking, as he stepped inside my room and pulled me into his arms.
I didn’t want him to see me cry again, but the moment his arms wove around me, I fully broke, sobbing into his cotton shirt.
He let me cry; for how long, I wasn’t sure. It could’ve been a minute. It could've been an hour. But time stood still as he held me in his arms.
“Come out to the loft with me,” he said. I wasn’t sure if it was a suggestion or a demand, but he held his hand out behind him for me to take. I slipped my hand into his and let him lead the way.
The house was dark as we walked through it by memory. He opened the back door for me, and we walked through it before he closed it behind us.
I wrapped my arm around my stomach to ward off the chill of the night air. We walked into the barn, my mind heavy as he gently pulled me in front of him to lead the way up the stairs into the loft.
Gentry’s breath hitched behind me as I got to the top of the stairs.
I turned to face him to find out what caused him to make that sound to find his face had gone pale.
Before I could speak, he reached around and opened the door to his room, his hand on the small of my back as he guided me inside. He shut the door behind him, and I turned to face him. His back rested against the door, his breathing was heavy, and his face was still pale as he stared at me.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I stepped toward him. Worry marred my face as I waited for him to respond.
“Turn around,” he choked out, as tears streamed down his face. Right then it clicked in my head why he’d grown pale.
The black ink that I’d etched into my skin the second I arrived in Virginia.
I turned around so he could look at the tattoo on my shoulder.
Moments passed before he finally spoke.
“It’s so realistic and beautiful,” he said on a shaky breath as his hand began tracing the outline of my tattoo.
Goosebumps peppered my skin as his fingers moved across my shoulder.
“I wanted a piece of her always with me. Her hand on my shoulder makes me feel like she’s always there, guiding me down the right path.
I also have her footprint on top of my foot so she can always guide me where I need to go,” I confessed.
I’d never told another soul the reasoning behind the tattoos.
Not even the designer, who’d perfectly replicated her hand and footprints.
No one other than the artist and myself had seen it since I had them done. And I was glad he was the first.
He rested his head on my shoulder, and I felt his tears hit the skin on my back where her handprint was. He broke down behind me as he pulled me toward him and held onto me for dear life. It was my turn to comfort him.
Turning around, I pulled him into me so I could hold him through his tears. Together we cried. Together we grieved for the daughter we’d lost.
Pulling away from him, I placed my fingers on either side of his face and wiped his tears away.
“I’m so sorry, Gentry,” I said through my tears. I was sorrier than he’d ever know.
“I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m uh … gonna go take a shower now,” he said as he pulled away and moved around me to go to the bathroom.
I hated that he didn’t say anything else, but it was my fault. I’d pushed him to this. I’d made him suffer alone. I’d made him grieve a loss we should’ve grieved together.
He should hate me.
Because right now, in this moment, I hated myself for what I’d done to him.