I Love You, Always (6 page)

“Okay,” she answers, squeezing mine.

“I’d like to have a look at the wound,” he says, nodding towards her stomach.

“Sure,” Ash answers, trying to pull herself up a little. My arms immediately reach out to help her slide up the bed. I see her grimace in pain, but try to hide it from me. I have to grab her hand again, but it’s more for my sake than hers now. When the doctor lifts up her gown and pulls back the bandages, I think for a second I’m
gonna
pass out. It’s not the blood or anything, I’ve never had a problem with that, God knows I’ve cut myself enough times at work. It’s seeing what that fucking asshole did to her that wrecks me. She has an incision about five inches long and her skin looks raw, angry, inflamed. It looks exactly like I feel and I want to kill the fucking bastard who did this.

“Luke,” I hear her whisper. “Are you sure you’re alright?” She squeezes my hand again and I turn to look at her, smiling so she knows I’m okay, even though I’m practically dying on the inside.

“I’m all good, Ash,” I say, and once more I know she isn’t buying it.

I stand here watching her face as the doctor tells her what happened and what they had to do. Apparently losing a spleen isn’t that big of a deal and he says she’s going to make a full recovery, although they want to keep her in for a few days and then she needs to take it easy for the next couple of weeks.

I’m not sure if I’m ever going to fully recover from this though. I’m not sure it’s possible to recover when you’re forced to watch the one that you love nearly bleed to death in your arms. When you’re forced to watch the one that you love’s heart stop and then get shocked back to life. I don’t even know how to begin trying to recover from that.

She squeezes my hand again and I’m once more back in the room. My ass has parked it on the chair beside her bed somehow and judging by the way everyone in the room is looking at me, I’m sure I look like shit.

I hear my phone beep as the doctor finishes up his chat with Ash, letting her know she can get up and walk around for short periods, but not to overdo it. I think getting up at all is overdoing it, but I don’t say anything. He then instructs the nurse to change her pain meds and eventually they all leave the room.

“Was that a phone?” Ash asks me. She’s looking at me like she really wants to ask if I’m okay. I’m
kinda
glad she doesn’t because I really don’t know what my answer would be at the moment. I pull my phone out of my pocket and check. There’s a text from Mia asking what we need.

What I need is to rewind the last twenty-four hours and take Asha home at midnight. What I need is to stop what happened to her from ever fucking happening in the first place.

“Luke?”

I exhale and look up at her, plastering a smile on my face so she knows I’m okay. She doesn’t need my shit at the moment. “Mia, she wants to know what we need?”

She smiles at me now. “Tell her I need some coffee.”

I can’t help but laugh, knowing exactly how much she needs coffee in the mornings. I could go and get her some, but somehow I can’t bring myself to even leave this room.

“Anything else, something practical maybe?” I ask, lifting her hand to my lips.

“Coffee’s practical,” she says, trying for a look of horror at the suggestion that I might think otherwise. “But maybe some clothes too, and a toothbrush, I need to clean my teeth.”

I’m typing all this down for Mia, adding a couple of my own things too, stuff I was going to give her today at home. “Anything else?”

She smiles sheepishly now and I wonder what she’s
gonna
say. “Tell her to get my birth control from our bathroom.”

Some more of that weight lifts as I gently bite her fingers, which are still pressed to my lips and watch as her eyes darken in response. “I can’t believe you’re even thinking about that,” I whisper.

“Always,” she whispers back and I have to crawl back onto the bed just so I can hold her again. She lifts up the covers for me this time and I slide under and gently pull her into my arms. Her head is resting on my chest and her fingers slide over me so they are hidden under the shirt I’m wearing and resting on the bare skin of my stomach. My eyes close as I try to imagine us back home in our bed, instead of here in hospital with thirty stitches holding Ash back together.

I feel her sigh against me as I run my hand slowly up and down her back. Glancing down I see Ash has closed her eyes and I gently lean down and press a kiss to her hair. “Happy birthday, Asha,” I whisper, her arm tightening around my waist as I do.

“Luke?” she suddenly asks, pulling herself closer to me.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me a story.”

“A story?” I ask surprised.

She glances up at me now and I can tell she’s getting sleepy again. “Yeah, a story.”

I don’t know if she’s doing this to distract me or if she genuinely wants me to tell her a story. “What do you want it to be about?”

She smiles, her eyes closing. “Anything, your plans for my birthday, us.”

“Us?” I ask, tucking her hair behind her ear.

With her eyes closed and her head resting on my chest, a small smile on her face, she murmurs, “Yeah, us, tell me a story about us.”

I close my eyes too. Her birthday. All the things I had planned for her today as I tried to give her a birthday she deserved. I remember Asha’s birthday last year. How incredibly sad she was. How much my heart ached when I went to her apartment and saw her that day, when I saw what she was going through. How much my heart healed with every minute I spent with her and made her laugh. That day changed so many things between us because I think it was the day she finally started to let me in. It was the day I know she began to let go of her past. And it was the day I think she started to realise I was always going to be there for her, which was all kinda perfect, given it was also the day one year ended and another begun.

Symbolic of what was happening between Ash and me.

In the end, it was amazing.

Not trying to change you

Only want to be here for you

To carry your burdens, to lighten your load

To show you there’s light

At the end of the road

∞

Ash isn’t home.

Well, she could be inside and just not answering the door, but I’ve been knocking for at least a good ten minutes and that would be enough to piss anyone off. Plus, I
kinda
think she’s the type of girl to just answer and tell me to fuck off. Last night was a pretty good indication of that.

When Ash didn’t show at work this morning, Sarah coming in instead, I wasn’t sure what to think. Then Sarah told me it was Ash’s birthday and she wouldn’t be coming in at all because it was the first birthday since her boyfriend had died and she would most likely be home alone. As soon as she told me this, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, especially after what happened last night at work and all of the emails I sent, which she ignored. She did send one back to me very early this morning and if I had to guess, she was drunk when she wrote it. I’m not sure where she gets the idea that I’m better off staying away from her from. But if she thinks for one minute that it’s going to happen, she’s very wrong. Luckily, Sarah seems to think Ash being home alone today is not a good idea either and had no problem telling me where she lives. God knows I don’t need both of them thinking I’m a total stalker, or a complete fucking psycho.

I slide down the wall and park my ass on the floor next to the boxes, two boxes filled with cupcakes in every flavour I could possibly dream up. I don’t even know which one is her favourite, but I spent all fucking morning baking them.

I lean my head back against the wall, thinking back to yesterday and that fucking asshole Liam, cornering Ash in the kitchen like he did. I don’t know how he thought he could get away with it, like he didn’t think I’d notice, or do something about it. The guy’s a fucking asshole and yesterday was absolutely the last straw for me. I wanted to punch his fucking lights out, just like I wanted to when he showed up at our party and tried to hit on Ash. But instead of punching him, I took the opposite approach; I called our boss and ratted him out. Possibly a shitty thing to do, but I honestly don’t give a fuck. What he did to Ash at my place was bad enough, but to do that to her yesterday, at work, a place where she should always feel safe, I wasn’t letting that one go. Luckily Robert felt the same way and as of tomorrow, Liam will no longer be working at
Eat Drink Read
. Good fucking riddance.

I close my eyes, instantly seeing the look on Ash’s face when she was squared off against Liam. It was different to the look she wore at my place. This time she was pissed and it showed. The fear was still there, but it was masked with an incredible amount of anger.

I want to help this girl so bad. I don’t know how I’m supposed to, but I know it’s what I want to do. She is so broken and fragile and in a fuck load of pain, that much is obvious. But what happened with Liam yesterday, at my party and probably every day at work, I just want to protect her from it, from all of it, from anything that could ever possibly happen to her.

I want to look after her.

There’s just something about her that has me
wanting
to be there for her. I want to be
allowed
to look after her. She fascinates me, intrigues me, has from the very first second I saw her. And now, I know exactly what it is. After yesterday, I’ve finally figured it out. It’s the unbelievable strength she has. An incredible amount of strength that I don’t think she even realises she has.

She would probably laugh if I told her, either that or tell me to fuck off. But it’s there and it’s buried and it wants to come out, occasionally does, if she only stopped to notice. The fact that she gets up every day and continues living is one thing, but it’s that she does it fighting is what really gets me. She fights for it and she doesn’t even know she’s doing it.

Asha is, what I once wished I was. She is what I have spent the last six or seven years trying to be. She has strength where I had none and it makes me admire her more than she could ever realise. And it also makes me…

“What are you doing here?”

I open my eyes and see Ash standing over me. She looks tired, and I’m pretty sure she’s either had no sleep, drunk a shitload of alcohol, or has been crying all night.
Possibly a combination of all three.
I push up off the floor, grabbing the boxes as though they’ll provide a justifiable reason for why I’m suddenly showing up at her apartment. “I heard you were sick,” I answer, knowing this is not true at all.

“I don’t want any company,” she says, pushing past me now as she unlocks her front door.

Maybe not, Asha
, I think to myself. But you’re getting it anyway because this strength that you don’t realise you have, you don’t have to fight with it alone. You don’t have to fight any of it alone.

“Ash,” I say, hesitating a little. I’m sure she wonders why I’m here, how I even know where she lives. I don’t know if any of the stuff I do is too forward or too much for her. I only know that it’s what someone once did for me. They pushed and pushed at me until I finally realised how things could be. That you didn’t have to carry the fight alone, that someone could bear that strength with you, help you fight it all. “I know, okay. I ah…I know it’s your birthday today. And I don’t think you should be here alone. Not today.”

I shut up when I see her face suddenly change and that fight she has inside her, the fight that wants to push me away, push the whole world away, suddenly dissolves. It’s replaced by something that looks like sorrow and it breaks my heart a little. When she starts to cry, I want to punch myself in the face for what I’ve said to make that happen. Her strength is there but it’s so fucking fragile it hurts. It’s so fucking fragile because I don’t think she believes she should have it.

I want to say something, anything to make this all okay, to let her know that everything will be okay. But I don’t, I just force my way into her apartment, dump the cupcakes and her groceries and pull her into my arms. Ash sobs against my chest and for the millionth time, I wish I could just take all of this away for her.

I wrap my arms tighter, holding her against me and slowly I feel her start to relax, her body unwinding as it fits against mine. I gently brush my hand through her hair, wanting more than anything to let her know she will be okay, that she is stronger than she realises and even if she doesn’t feel that way, I will be here to help her. She suddenly takes a deep breath, her fingers tightening in the front of my sweater and as she does, I just open my mouth and say it.

“He’s gone, Asha,” I whisper, closing my eyes as I put my mouth against her ear. “Liam’s gone, he won’t ever hurt you, and you’ll never have to see him again.” My lips brush against her skin and it makes my heart pound so hard. I wonder if she can feel it against her cheek, which is still pressed against my chest. I open my eyes and see her fingers gripping tighter, feel her other hand at my waist, her fingers digging into my hip.

“This pain, it won’t last forever, Ash,” I say, my voice low. “I know it feels like it will, but it won’t, I promise you it won’t. Let me help you, Asha, let me be here for you.” I have to stop. I’m dangerously close to overstepping the mark. If today proves anything, it’s that I can’t push her too hard or too fast.

Ash eventually pulls back, her hand quickly swiping at her eyes as she stares at the floor and mumbles, “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

I do it instinctively, brushing the hair back from her face as my thumb smoothes over a final tear, tilting her chin so she’s forced to look at me. “Don’t be, you have nothing to be sorry for,” I tell her, meaning every word of it.

Ash shrugs at my words and I’m not really sure if she believes me, but I let it go for now, telling her to go wash her face so I can show her what I’ve brought over for her. While she’s in the bathroom, I head into her kitchen, taking her bags of groceries with me. As I open the fridge, I notice there’s nothing in there, a stack of empty beer bottles beside the sink that explain what she’s been eating, or rather drinking, for the last twenty-four hours. I grab the boxes of cupcakes and put them on the table before Ash walks back out. When she does, I can see that she looks better, calmer and more in control now and I smile at her, earning me a tiny smile back.

“What’s this?” she asks, looking at what I’ve brought for her.

I turn to look at her and I can’t help but smile, as if to say,
seriously?
She smiles a little as she realises how ridiculous her question is and I know she’s genuinely shocked when I explain that I’ve made her all these cupcakes. It’s probably over the top, but somehow I figure, that’s exactly what she needs.

“You made two hundred cupcakes?” she asks.

“Yep, but these twenty-four are all yours, Ash, so where do you wanna start?”

She’s staring at me like she can’t believe I’ve done this for her. I’m staring back trying to work out whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. I get the feeling she wants to ask me why, why I keep doing any of the things I do for her and a part of me wants her to. Because more than anything
;
I want to tell her. I want her to know that I know exactly how she feels, that her loneliness doesn’t have to be hers anymore. That I’m here for her to talk to, to hang out with, just be friends with, whenever she wants me to be. I won’t lie, I do want to be more than friends with her, but right now, I can see this not what she wants, or needs. And for her, I can do this. I can be whoever she wants me to be.

“I think I’m going to need a coffee and you to help me with all these,” she says instead, not voicing any of the million questions that are written all over her face.

I smile. “Nope, these are all yours. I’ll take the coffee, but I’m only eating what you don’t like,” I tell her, turning and walking into the kitchen before I open my big mouth and tell her all the things running through my head right now.

Ash needs a friend at the moment, and nothing more.

I throw on some coffee and stack all of her beer bottles by the trash next to fridge. I notice she’s bought more, in addition to some food, but I’m guessing with a hangover, strong coffee is what she needs, not another beer. After I pour two cups and take them out, I take a seat on the couch opposite Ash and watch her try out the cupcakes I’ve brought her.

“Why aren’t you cooking somewhere else?” she asks me out of nowhere.

I look over and see Ash stretch out on the couch. Watching her makes my stomach flip and I have to force myself to remain sitting and not just get up, walk over, lie down beside her and pull her into my arms.

“I mean you can seriously cook,” she says, her arms stretching above her head and making my mouth go dry. “And you’re wasted just doing the stuff we serve at work.”

Her words make me laugh, and it’s the distraction I need to stop thinking about crawling onto that couch with her. “Wow, a fan of my music and my cooking,” I say picking up my coffee. “Thank you.”

When I say these last two words, Ash lifts her eyes to mine and for just a second, she doesn’t say anything. Then she adds on, “Luke, I’m serious. These cupcakes are so good and really, you’re wasted in that place.” She sits up now and stares directly at me. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Yeah,” I say, strangely nervous all of a sudden. I put my mug on the table, before I sit back on the couch. “I’ve tried those other places, restaurants and stuff, but the hours are shit and I had no life,” I say, knowing how true that once was. “I worked when everyone else was having fun and spent it getting yelled at by some pissed off asshole. Here I work regular days,” I tell her, knowing that seeing her every day is by far the best part of my day. “I’m my own boss, can play in the band at night, and I work with great people. All of this makes me happy, so why change?” And really, it’s the simplest explanation I can give without telling her the real story.

Because the real story is that I have spent my entire life doing what other people, my father especially, wanted me to do. When I came here, to Boston, I came to find myself, find out what I really wanted to do and who I really wanted to be. None of that has changed and if it means working a job that I’m supposedly too good for or doesn’t pay much money, then I don’t care.
Because for the first time, I’m actually happy.
Happy doing a job I enjoy and working with people I like.

But as Ash looks at me, I get the feeling she’s seeing right through me. That she’s seeing everything I’m thinking about and not just how I feel about her, or why I came over here today, but everything else too. All of my secrets, my past, everything I escaped from. It feels like Ash is seeing all of it. No one else has ever looked at me like this and if I had any doubts about how I feel about this girl or how much I want to help her, make her happy again, then they have all just disappeared. Because in this moment, Ash is the first person to look at me like she truly knows me.

Eventually she smiles, as though something has clicked in her brain too and I don’t know what it is, but I get the feeling it’s a good thing. She no longer looks scared or pissed off or tired or angry. “Yeah, I guess that does make sense,” she says, reaching over to pick up another cupcake.

“It does to me,” I say, taking a deep breath as I try to figure out how someone I barely know can be so fucking perfect for me. And then, not wanting to lose my chance at trying to find the answer to that, I throw myself off the deep end and say, “So, what are we doing for the rest of the day?”