Page 89 of Sloane

I looked at the box containing months’ worth of pouring my heart and soul out. How I’d made sure to write to him even when all I wanted to do was collapse into my bed because I thought he’d appreciate it when he woke up.

Instead, I’d meant so little to him that he couldn’t even be bothered to read my letters. I reaffirmed what I’d vowed in the bar. I was never going to be that girl.

Message received, Captain Davidson.

I was done, too.

Chapter Thirty-One

Ashley

I’d been officially dumped, but I was still piecing together the “why” part. He’d said I was shallow. The logical part of me believed he was just lashing out about his own situation, but his words had still had the intended effect—to wound me.

But the returned letters… that had been the ultimate “fuck off”.

Regardless of how much he was hurting, I hadn’t deserved that. You don’t treat someone you care about like that.

Which led me to the conclusion that he’d never really cared about me as much as he’d led me to believe. And that left me feeling like a fool.

I called in sick the next two days and allowed myself to wallow in bed under the covers, but on the third day, I gave myself a pep talk after I shut off my alarm.

Life goes on.

Get your ass up and start living it.

I took time to curl and style my hair that morning and applied the foundation that covered my birthmark before putting on my usual mascara and lipstick.

Fuck Sloane. Ashley 2.0 didn’t need him.

It felt serendipitous that as soon as I pulled into the VA’s parking garage, I received a text reminding me of my dermatology appointment the following week and asking for confirmation.

I made the decision as I walked into work that I was getting my birthmark removed. Sloane’s opinion no longer mattered. I was going to do what I wanted. As soon as I sat down at my desk, I replied to the text and confirmed my appointment.

Sloane’s words echoed in my head. “And unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of scheduling a doctor’s visit to have it removed.”

Was I being shallow; having my birthmark removed while he’d be saddled with his scars forever?

All the bravado I’d been feeling about Ashley 2.0 started to wane, and I felt nauseous again.

“Hey, Ash. Are you feeling better?” Colin asked.

I gave him a weak smile.

“A little.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re back because your Army dude with the hip disarticulation doesn’t want to work with anyone but you. He insisted on waiting until you returned for his next appointment, so you probably should give him a call and get something scheduled.”

“Dan’s bark is much worse than his bite, but I’ll give him a call.”

I was kind of glad he wasn’t on my schedule that day. He’d see through my brave face in a heartbeat and demand answers. Answers I wasn’t sure I was ready to share yet.

~~~~

I thought I did a pretty good job faking being upbeat throughout my appointments, and as I reflected on my day on the drive home, I scornfully realized that was because I’d had a lot of practice. The whole time I’d been writing Sloane, I’d always been careful to be nothing but positive and cheerful.

“He never even knew the real me,” I said out loud as I waited to turn into my apartment complex.

I knew I was grasping at straws trying to convince myself that what I’d felt for him wasn’t genuine. I considered calling Tammy with my latest revelation, but I knew she was tired of hearing me whine about Sloane. Hell, I was tired of whining about Sloane.

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