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“Let me go or I swear I’ll start screaming.”
“Don’t do this. Damn it, woman. Don’t—”
“I’m done,” she blasts at me. “I wish you would have just stayed gone. Why come back? To save me? To feel better about getting personal?” She punches my arm.
I catch her shoulders. “Stop. Listen to me.”
“I don’t need to hear all of your reasons for leaving. I just need you to go ahead and do it. Again.”
“If I felt no guilt, why would you want me? You don’t get it. I wasn’t even sure I was capable of these damn emotions until you. I wasn’t sure I was human anymore. I used people. I killed people. And I moved on. That me, the one before I met you, wouldn’t feel anything.”
“It seems to me that you’re using me now to ensure you don’t feel guilt. How does that make you a changed man?”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” I say, tangling my fingers in her hair. “No matter what guilt I feel, I’m not going to walk away. I’m just too damn cold and selfish. You’re mine. I decided that a long time ago.”
“I don’t know how to deal with this yo-yo,” she whispers. “I can’t Noah. Aaron. Whoever you are.”
“The man who loves you. The man who wants to marry you.”
“Who is always one step away from walking out on me, on us.”
“I don’t know how to prove to you that that’s not true besides time. In time, if you’ll give me that time, you’ll know. You’ll see. Will you give me that time, Ashley?”
Chapter thirty-five
Ashley
Houston, the past…
Ihang up yet another call with yet another news organization about my boss’ new case, and it’s pretty clear that this is going to be a zoo. Cole exits his office and runs a hand through his dark brown hair. “A hell of a day. Why are you still here?”
I rotate my chair to face him. “You know why. This case is getting a lot of attention.”
“Which is why you need to leave while you can. I’m staying, but you don’t need to stay with me.”
“Okay, but I have a few things we need to cover.” I go over a few messages with him and then ask, “Do you want me to get you dinner?”
“I want you to go do something exciting. Getting me dinner isn’t it.” He heads into his office, and I sigh. He’s charming, smart, and sweet. I should want him, but there’s no flutter in my belly for Cole. There’s no heat in my belly. He’s so damn good looking, but we have zero chemistry, which is good. He’s my boss. But the man on the street today—Noah—we definitely had chemistry, so much chemistry. That man stirred plenty of heat in my belly. I shove my hair behind my ear with a frustrated swipe of my fingers. Why am I even thinking about this? I have no interest in getting involved with anyone. Alone works for me. Alone is familiar and safe. It fits me like soft, worn slippers. It’s comfortable. Alone is only dangerous when you forget how to wear it with ease. Not that a drink means we’d be in a relationship. This is a silly train of thought. I grab my purse and stand up. I’m going home.
Alone.
A few minutes later, I’m on the city street walking toward my car, contemplating where to order takeout, while fighting a pinch in my chest at the idea. I reach my little Toyota and slide inside the driver’s seat and, decide, once I’ve eaten, I’ll feel better. I turn the ignition, and it won’t start. I try again. “No, no, no,” I murmur, trying yet again. Fifteen minutes later, I sit there in the dark and contemplate who I could call. I have no siblings. My parents are dead. I have friends, but most are married. I have a creepy neighbor, but the creepy thing rules him out. I could call my boss, but he has a trial tomorrow. There is really nothing like a broken down car to drive home the way alone sometimes feels really bad. I hide from that fact most of the time, but not now. I huff out a breath and get out of the car, walking with purpose, because, apparently, I’m going to meet Noah.
Because, despite all the grand experience and my personal endorsements for its merits, alone doesn’t feel good tonight.
Present day…
Will I give him time to prove to me that he’s not going anywhere?
My emotions are all over the place. My world is upside down. I loved him. He left. I love him. He might leave again. I think he will leave again. Every time I convince myself that’s not true, I sense that pullback in him. I fear my need for him. “Ashley.”
At his prod, I say what I feel. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I can give you time to prove you’re not going to leave again.”
“You don’t know?” His jaw clenches, and he releases me, giving me his back before he turns to face me again. “What the fuck does that even mean, Ashley?”
“In or out,” I say. “I don’t have the luxury of this middle of the road, wait and see crap, Aaron. I don’t feel the ‘all in’ from you and that just doesn’t work for me. So actually, no. No, I’m not giving you the time to prove yourself because you’ve already proven yourself. I need you to just let me go. I can’t be this in love with you and feel this alone. I can’t.”
He catches my waist and pulls me to him. “You are not alone. You were never alone.”
