Chapter 3
ASH
MARCH PRESENT DAY
Casey and I have to be separated a year before we can officially file for divorce, so I’ll be his wife while she sleeps in his bed for at least that long. Bile rises in my throat every time I think about that fact.
Since moving out, I’ve spent the last three weeks wallowing on the couch. I’ve made my way through all the classics: crying myself to sleep, drunk dialing him at midnight, watching Dirty Dancing on repeat, and consuming nothing but Doritos.
I’ve done it all.
When I’m with Maggie is about the only time I feel okay. Something about her sweet face has the ability to make me almost forget the chaos that is my life. The rest of the time, I’m a mess.
Don’t worry about him, though. He’s wasted no time filling his Facebook with photos of the two of them on dates and at work functions. Not that I’ve been checking or anything.
Jess’s sofa might have a permanent imprint of my butt now. Every night when I crawl into bed, I tell myself tomorrow will be the day I finally get up and brush myself off, and every morning when I wake, the weight of doing that pulls me under, and I find myself right back in this spot on the couch.
Maybe tomorrow.
I don’t get it. How can someone vow to spend the rest of their life loving you and then choose someone else?
Gran told me years ago that I deserve a man who wouldn’t walk away from me. Her voice repeats through my head all day and night now.
But what if that never happens? What if they always walk away? How many times should I put myself in that position?
It feels like I’m creeping close to the limit.
Anytime I think about Gran, I want to cry.
I used to stay with her every summer. She was my favorite person.
She didn’t want a funeral, so I just got a call that she was gone.
That’s it. I still don’t think I’ve let it sink in.
How could I? I’d barely scratched the surface of grief when Casey turned my life upside down.
We used to talk every morning while I was taking Maggie to school, but aside from the missing calls, everything continued as it was before.
I hate it.
Losing someone so monumental in your life should stop the world from turning, right? At least for a little bit. But that’s not how it works. It leaves an aching hole in your chest, but no one can see it. No one else can feel it. The rest of the world goes on while rot spreads in your gut.
When it first happened, I would accidentally forget and call her in the morning only to remember at the sound of her voicemail.
So, maybe my permanent residence on my sister’s couch is more than just heartache. It’s the culmination of losing the love of my life and the person I’d have run to with my broken heart.
Because make no mistake, I would have called her, and she would have come to Raleigh right away.
My phone rings from where it sits beside me. It’s another unknown number. I know answering it will only cause me more pain.
My dad does this. He disappears for long periods of time, then pops up, calling every day for a couple of weeks.
I end up accidentally answering one or two, and after a second of stunned panic, I tell him to leave me alone before hanging up.
He’s the last person I ever want to talk to, especially when I’m in the midst of my life falling apart.
Then again, it would feel good to tell someone to fuck off right about now. And not a soul on earth deserves it more than my father.
Against my better judgement, I pick up the phone with blood rushing in my ears.
“Don’t you know how to take a hint? I don’t want to talk to you!”
“Uh… is this Mrs. James?”
My cheeks heat. It’s not my dad.
Whoops.
Clearing my throat, as my heart rate starts to drift back down to normal, I say, “Um… yes. This is her.”
“Hi, my name’s Jeff Keller, your grandmother’s attorney. Do you have a few moments to talk about Sylvia’s estate?”
I sit up straighter. The bag of Doritos falls from my lap, orange crumbs sprinkling across the floor at my feet. Not once in the last few weeks has her estate crossed my mind.
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Great. I’ve sent you a couple of letters in the mail, but you must not have received them. She left you everything, so there’s a lot to go through.”
He says it so casually, like it shouldn’t come as a shock, but I’m not sure I’ve heard him correctly.
“What?”
“You’re her sole beneficiary.”
Shaking my head, I rub my temple as a dull ache starts to form behind my eyes. He has to be wrong. I open my mouth to correct him, then shut it before finally saying, “That can’t be right. What about my dad, or hell, my brother for that matter?”
“No. All of it is yours. She was very specific about not wanting to leave anything to your father. As for your brother, she did say she knew you’d make sure he was taken care of.”
My eyes squeeze closed because I was sure he was wrong until this moment, but that sounds exactly like something she’d say. “I live two hours away. What am I supposed to do with all of it?”
“Well, that’s up to you. It’s yours.”
“No. I know…” Wait. Everything? “By everything, do you mean her house?”
He chuckles softly. “Yes, and everything in it, and her safety deposit box, and her car. Like I said, everything. We will need to set a meeting, and probate may take some time, but she left it all to you.”
After setting an appointment and hanging up, I stare at the wall, unable to totally take in what just happened.
I never planned to go back to that town at all. I sure as hell don’t need a house there. What’s strange is, she never mentioned leaving it to me, and I know for a fact she was team Ash never sets foot in this hellhole of a town ever again.
I get why she couldn’t leave it to the others, but I’m surprised she didn’t talk to me about it. Although, she didn’t expect to go to bed and not wake up, I guess.
Eventually, I pull myself from the swirling shitstorm in my own head enough to wrap my head around all of it.
How the hell am I going to deal with a whole house in a town I’ve refused to step foot in for six years?
Idial Casey when he still hasn’t shown up twenty minutes after he was supposed to pick up Maggie.
As the line rings, I stare out the window above the kitchen sink, watching a squirrel make its way across the top of the wooden swing set.
My fingers grip the cool edge of the white counter harder with every second he doesn’t pick up. The warm sun shines through the glass.
“Motherfucker,” I mutter under my breath when Casey’s phone goes to voicemail for the third time. “Jess!”
I toss my cell onto the counter and run a hand over my throbbing forehead.
I’m going to kill him. The number of times I’ve had that very thought over the last couple of weeks is alarming.
Isn’t it strange how you can love someone so much that you can’t imagine spending the rest of your life without them, only to end up wishing you’d never have to see them again?
If I could make him disappear, I just might.
That’s not entirely true though, is it?
No, because we have Maggie.
Maggie who cries every night at bedtime because she wants her dad to tuck her in like he used to. Maggie, who wanted to call him two days ago when she lost a tooth and was crushed when he didn’t answer. Maggie, who’s going to be devastated when I tell her he isn’t coming today.
And that, folks, is how we circle right back around to: I’m going to kill him.
He was a great dad while we were together, but over the last couple of weeks he’s faded into the background, breaking her little heart in the process.
I was shocked when he didn’t show up the first time.
I didn’t expect that. However, I’m sure it’s hard to find the time when he’s with his new girlfriend every fucking minute of every fucking day.
Jess runs into the room with half a face of makeup and a tube of mascara in her hand, her hair still wrapped in a towel.
“Can you watch Maggie today? My meeting’s in…” I check the time. “Twenty minutes. Casey was supposed to pick her up, but he’s not answering his goddamn phone.”
Luckily after getting the call from Gran’s attorney last week, my own lawyer was able to get me in quickly.
“I can’t. I have a photoshoot this afternoon.”
“Shit.” I could call him again, but he won’t answer. Casey has time for other people when it’s convenient for Casey, even if that other person is his own kid.
Dialing my mother, I lean over the island and rest an elbow on the granite. Anything that involves my mother is no doubt painful for everyone involved, but I don’t really have a choice.
“Hello?”
“Hey, can you watch Maggie for a bit? Casey didn’t show.”
“Sure! I’d love to. I’ll be right over.”
Setting my phone down, I groan. “I guess we’re dealing with my mother today.”
“Fantastic,” she says, sarcastically.
Rubbing my forehead, I sigh.
“You alright?”
I nod. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
She eyes me. “Are you having nightmares again?”
“Nope. Just normal tired,” I lie.
“I’m ready!” Maggie prances out of her room in a Barbie shirt and an Elsa skirt. Her pink-and-white striped backpack hangs from one shoulder. Her blonde curls bounce as her sock feet shuffle across the carpet. “Is Daddy here yet?”
My ribs squeeze. I flick my attention up to Jess, who raises her brows.
Exhaling, I say, “Maggie—”
Her shoulders slump and her smile fades. “He’s not coming, is he?”
A knot forms in my stomach. There’s nothing that drives a stake right through my heart quite like that look on her face. I’d do anything if it meant she’d never have to feel this way again.
Kneeling in front of her, I shake my head. “I’m sorry, bug.”
Her big blue eyes fill with tears, and the backpack slides to the floor. “We were gonna go to the park today. He promised.”