AnguiSH (28 page)

             
I pulled up at her apartment complex and there were several cars parked where there had been none the night or morning before.  I got out and checked myself in the view of the window of the driver’s side door again for good measure. 

             
I walked up the stairs and the door flew open before I reached the top step—Stephanie. 

             
“Jesus, she wasn’t joking.  You must’ve put on forty pounds.”

             
“Forty three, actually.  Is she ready?”

             
“Almost,” she stepped out and shut the door behind her.  “Listen, I just wanted to tell you, because she always thinks she talks too much.  It causes her to not say things that she should and usually say too much about things she shouldn’t.”

             
I covered the smile on my face with my hand and she pointed me out, “Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.  So I’m gonna say some things that she probably won’t.  Number one: She loves you, like I’ve never seen one person love another.  Two: Don’t you dare give up on yourself because she never has for one single second.  Three: And this is such a violation of the friendship clause, treat her right because I’m pretty sure you’re not ever getting rid of her—like ever.  You get me?”

             
“I would never ever hurt her.”

             
“You better not, Hulkamania.”

             
I followed her back inside and shook hands with Ozark who wasn’t at all the timid boy I’d met before.  Stephanie nodded her head towards the bedroom and I went in after telling them both goodbye.  They were making plans for a date of their own. 

             
I knocked gently, more of an announcement than permission, and went in.  She stood at the dresser pressing the backs onto a pair of earrings.  She saw my reflection in the mirror. 

             
“I’m sorry.  I’m not usually so fickle.  I hate girls who purposefully make themselves late just for the extra attention.  I wish I had a better excuse, but honestly, I just fell asleep in the bathtub.”

             
“No sweat.  We’ve got time.”

             
In the time it took for her to turn around, I was fully enchanted with the way she looked.  She was downright dangerously beautiful.  She had a black dress on and purple heels that made her legs look inches longer than they were.  Her hair had grown and it flowed over one shoulder.  Images of how I could take advantage of her exposed shoulder fluttered through my mind.  But tonight was not the night for it.

             
I needed to lay everything out on the table for her that night.  I didn’t want her to invest anymore time in me than she wanted to.  Honestly, everything was still a struggle.  Yes, I could go to public places and deal with it, but my eardrums still tornadoed all the sounds around me and I still felt the wallop of my heart against the confines of my sternum.  But instead of letting them dictate what I did, I could now take control of them myself.  But she needed to know, a lucid, solid knowledge of the fact that it would be years before these symptoms would go away, if ever. 

             
Everyone deserved to know, without a doubt, who they intended to spend the rest of their life with.  I certainly intended to but after tonight, if she decided she didn’t want to stick it out with me, I would let her go.  I was prepared to let her go. 

             
We left the apartment and she was relieved to find I’d driven my car.  I drove downtown and parked on the street between the restaurant and the Riverwalk.  I picked a place with a quiet atmosphere so we could talk but also afforded her a quick exit if she decided to bolt. 

             
We were seated in the back at a table for two.  We skimmed our menus and decided on what to get.  We both ordered the grilled chicken.  She told me about her job and the woman who’d been caught stealing, her classes, how school was going.  We finished eating and paid the check.  I suggested walking on the Riverwalk but gestured to her heels, not knowing if she wanted to walk in those or not.  She agreed and I knew that no matter how much I didn’t want to I had to explain everything.

             
We stopped at the railing where the walk overlooked the Mississippi River and gave us the best view of the bridge. 

             
I stepped sideways, needing to distance myself from her or I’d never get it all out. 

             
“I need to tell you some things Ash.”

             
She smiled her never failing contagious grin, and it made it hard to continue. 

             
I swallowed hard, readying myself. “I’m not gonna dance around it.  You know who I am.  You saw the worst of me before you saw anything else.  I just don’t want you to jump back in this with me thinking that I’m completely better.  I’m not and it will be a long time before I ever am.  I just want you to weigh your options.  Don’t get stuck with me if you think everything is gonna be roses, ‘cause I can pretty much guarantee that they won’t.  I guess what I’m saying is, if you want to bail, do it now.  Don’t waste anymore of your life on me if you don’t want to.”

             
Her knuckles were white on her right hand as she wrung the railing back and forth as I spoke.  Her face had blossomed red, not the faint pink blush I’d come to expect after we kissed or said something faintly naughty.  This was the cherry red of an angry woman—I thought.  I’d never seen her angry.  But when her finger needled my chest when she started ripping into me, I knew for sure.

             
“Breaker James Collins you are seriously pissing me off.  Who do you think you are that you can just dismiss me after all we’ve been through because you’ve decided to have some kind of post-loco pity party?  In what world have I made you think that I’m just gonna bail on you?  If I was gonna bail, I would’ve done it the day your snooty assed mom sat at her polished desk and basically told me to handle you.  But at that point I’d already fallen for you a little, you were so damned sad.” Her voice had come down increment by increment as she spoke.  By the time she finished, it was a mix of whisper and whimper. 

             
“I’m sorry.  I just wanted to give you a fair chance to back out.”

             
She grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me to her with more physical strength than I thought she had in her.

             
“Back out?  Back out? I think you need some damned perspective.  You’ve always assumed that this was all about you. Let me set you straight.  You see the parts of me that I’d learned to hate and called them heaven.  You listened to the words that others complained about and begged me to talk to you more.  You see
me
Breaker.  The world sees my voice and my incessant blabbing and my clingy social skills, but you see me.  So this isn’t all about you, your Highness.”

             
I couldn’t stand to see her this upset so I did the only thing I knew how to distract her.  I kissed her until I felt her body let go of its resistance and melt into me.  I pulled back, and looked her deep in those chocolate eyes.

             
“You’re stuck with me then for a long time.  I’m not talking about months here Ash.  You’ve got me for good.”

             
“You know what just happened?” She said, smiling through her tears.

             
“What?”

             
She ran her thumb over my lips and pecked me once, a whisper of a kiss, “Finally Breaker James, finally, I knocked and you answered the door.”

             
“I wasn’t listening before.  I will listen for your knock from now on—I promise.”

             
We spent the rest of the night just reveling in being back together.  There was so much more I wanted to say to her.  So many more things I wanted to ask her.  But as I stood there, overlooking the river, content for once in my life, I realized that I had a life now.  I had the hope of a life with her, not because of her. 

~~~

We dated for almost a full year before I asked her to marry me in front of our friends and family at her graduation party. She accepted and I knew that whoever gave Ashland the middle name Hope did it for a reason.  She touched everything and everyone with her love and gave them hope for something more.
 

Epilogue

Ashland Hope Collins

             
Five years Later

              He was in the damned greenhouse again.  The flowers were now grating on my last nerve.  I sighed to no one, “Who am I kidding there isn’t very much that doesn’t crawl all over my nerves lately.” 

             
He worked from home, which was ironic to say the least.  He’d gotten his M.B.A. from LSU and worked for his dad’s software company.  I was a vet now.  Breaker’s dad set me up with my own clinic and I’d paid him back every cent. But I had been put on maternity leave by my doctor early since I was wider than the broad side of a bus and could barely walk.

             
I got up and waddled to the kitchen for a glass of milk.  I was told to drink tons of water because of the swelling but even water gave me heartburn and I was so tired of my throat being on fire.  The older lady next door told me it meant the baby had lots of hair.  She told me that every single time I saw her.  I wanted to remind her that all mammals had hair, but I refrained.

             
I laid on the couch and propped my feet up.  They felt like water balloons that I’d overfilled and were close to bursting. I flipped the channels incessantly before settling on some show about crooked waiter and waitresses caught on camera.

             
Breaker and I were not looking forward to the labor.  Me, because I really didn’t find the idea of pushing a human out of my body appealing.  Him because after all this time he still got the creeps at hospitals.  But he would have to suck it up, squeezing another person out trumped his hospital phobia every time. 

             
He didn’t have to see Dr. Mavis anymore, which was good since she’d retired last year.  He was still hesitant about crowds but would tolerate them if it was somewhere I wanted to go.  Not that I wanted to go to the hospital but again, he’d just have to deal with it. 

             
See what I mean?  I’m such a meaner lately.

             
I heard the back door open and close.  He placed a vase of orange roses with magenta tips on the coffee table across from me.

             
“You need anything?”he asked, smiling. 
What in the hell was he smiling at?

             
“No.  Why are you smiling? I don’t see anything to smile about Collins.”

             
“You don’t?”  He looked a smidge disappointed in my response. 

             
I was on the verge of crying for no reason—again, “I see cankles.  I see hairy legs because I can’t reach them to shave.  I see this maternity dress barely stretched over my belly, which either means I’m too big or they lied about the maternity part of this dress which makes them filthy, filthy liars.  And I’m so sick and tired of crying for no reason. And I’m tired of knocking back Tums like they’re actually helping me.  And I know you see the ugly, don’t lie.”