“Ash?” Aurielo asks. “Who the hell names their son Ash? That better not be short for Ashley.”
Fuck.
Does he ever shut up?
“It’s Ashton,” I snarl. I’m not all bark and no bite. I’m ready for a throw down with Aurielo. I don’t care if he is mafia.
The locks click, and Ivy slowly turns the handle of the front door, inching the door open.
She’s hesitating, and I can understand her predicament, but this is my apartment, and Ashton is my son.
“Are you sure about this?” Ivy asks.
I’m not sure, but I can’t voice my concerns to Ivy. She’ll probably pull a knife on Aurielo, and as tempting as it would be to watch him squirm, I don’t know what worse fate would fall on my family or me.
“It’s fine.” I step in past the foyer and notice the television on and cartoons running in the background.
It’s nearing midnight, and Ash is asleep on the couch. I want to chastise Ivy for letting him stay up past his bedtime. He should be in his bed asleep, but she’s always been a softie with rules.
“He’s been asleep for a while. I didn’t have the heart to put him in his room,” Ivy says.
I give her a side glance. I don’t buy her bullshit. “Right. That’s why you’re still watching cartoons.”
Whenever she’s been over at my apartment, the minute Ash is out of the room or asleep, she always turns the channel immediately.
“I’m a softie,” Ivy says.
I head into Ashton’s bedroom and pull open the closet, retrieving the suitcase buried in the corner. It’s not nearly as fancy as mine with wheels, the zipper sticks, and the corner fabric is fraying and thin, but it will suffice.
I yank open the drawers, cleaning out his clothes, stuffing everything inside the bag.
Aurielo stands in the hallway, watching Ashton sleep from a distance.
“Get in here,” I demand. I don’t want him spending any time with my kid, alone.
It’s late, and I’m spent. I don’t want to deal with packing up Ash’s toys and clothes. If I forget something important, the kid will have a fit.
Aurielo can help. It’s his fault we’re here.
“What can I do?” Aurielo asks, his tone more cheerful than I anticipate.
“There’s a duffel on the top shelf. Pack his stuffed animals on his bed, some toys from the toy box by the window. I’m sure you don’t already have stuff for him to play with, and if he’s bored, you’ll regret bringing both of us into your home.”
Aurielo takes orders like a pro.
I glance over my shoulder as he grabs the stuffed animals on the bed first before sifting through the giant bin labeledtoy box.
In a matter of minutes, I zip up the bag and let him carry both pieces of luggage while I head out of the bedroom to grab Ashton.
“Are you sure about this?” Ivy asks. Her eyes bore into mine. She has a cell phone in her hand. I glance down and notice the numbers 9-1-1 are already punched in, but she hasn’t hit send yet.
She’s hesitating, and while I’m not sure why, I’m relieved.
“Everything is fine. Don’t worry.” I assure Ivy as I gesture for her to put her phone away. “He’s not kidnapping me, I promise.” I show her my wedding band as if that makes everything all right.
“You’re married?” she squeaks, her voice higher than I’ve ever heard it.
It manages to wake my son.