‘Believe it.’ My eyes prick as the truth hits me. ‘Soon you’ll be all the family I have left, and...and I don’t want to lose that.’
He’s across the room before the first tear falls, his arms a
round me, hugging me tight.
‘It’s not too late?’ he whispers against my hair. ‘For us?’
‘No,’ I assure him on a small sob. ‘It’s not.’
I only hope the same applies to Ash.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I PULL OPEN the fridge for a beer. ‘Bollocks.’ The shelves are practically bare. No beer, no nothing.
I slam the fridge closed and snatch a glass off the drainer, a bottle of whisky next. It’s not my preferred drink, especially at four in the afternoon, but needs must. And I definitely need it. I need to block out the sight of her walking away, her anger, her pain, her hate...
I’m all out of hope. She must have spoken to Philip by now. And if she has he’s either lied or it wasn’t enough to convince her.
I can’t even blame him. This is all my fault. Mine.
I fucked up the best thing that’s ever happened to me and now I have to face the consequences. Only I don’t know how to. I don’t know how to live without her.
I pour a glass as I head into the living area, where the painting on the wall teases me with the memory of her appreciation. I make a U-turn and head back to the kitchen. Not that that helps either. Fuck.
She’s everywhere.
I slap the whisky glass down on the centre island and pour. Wishing the painful memories away. Wishing her away.
Maybe I should’ve taken Jackson up on his offer of a night out. The guy’s been hounding me all week. And we could go somewhere new. Somewhere devoid of memories. Somewhere I can get hammered and forget. Even if it’s only for a few hours, it has to be better than this.
Yeah, like you’d really wish yourself on him right now.
I deserve to wallow in my own sodding misery.
I take a swig of my drink and close my eyes, feel it burn down my throat and contend with the punishing ache inside.
Better.
Then the doorbell goes and my phone starts to flash up at me from the counter.
Piss off.
It’s Jackson. Won’t the guy just give up?
I ignore both and take another swig.
There’s an incessant banging on the door now, every knock like a physical blow to my already aching head, and I wince.
Seriously, Jackson, piss off.
He doesn’t, and it’s driving me crazy.
I stride to the front door and yank it open. ‘Jackson, will you just fu—’
The curse dies on my lips. I can’t believe my eyes. This has to be some twisted trick, the booze soaring to my head...
‘Ash?’