Page 49 of Give Me Strength

A look of skepticism spreads. “Uh-huh.” She turns to me. “Where’s Russ? I was looking forward to seeing the old man again.”

Ernest’s undisguised growl fills the space, and Wynter chuckles.

“Can I have my mouth back now? Your hand’s getting sweaty.” Ashlynn mumbles under Wynter’s palm. Once she does, Ashlynn pulls her in for a quick hug. “Thank you for today. I really needed this.”

“Anytime,” Wynter tells her, her smile bright and genuine. “You, me, Paris. This summer, my treat.”

The look on Ernest’s face is priceless. Sort of married or not, I’m staring at the face of a man hopelessly in love with his wife.

Ashlynn notices it too, and wriggles her nimble fingers at Ernest. “Hi, Ernie. Bye, Ernie.”

We say our goodbyes and head to the car. The drive starts out quiet as we head home, the city lights begin to twinkle like distant stars against the darkening sky. I steal a glance at Ashlynn, her silhouette framed against the cityscape as she stares out the window with a thoughtful expression.

“You okay?” I ask, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between us.

She sighs softly, her breath fogging up the window. “Yeah,” she says, her voice soft and tinged with weariness. “I’m good. It was really nice catching up with Wyn.”

“That’s good to hear,” I tell her, keeping my eyes on the road as I navigate the familiar streets. “Anything else?”

She hesitates for a moment, staring out at the streetlights flickering past. “Did Russ call you?”

“Yes.” A beat passes, my grip tightens on the wheel, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Should he not have?”

She sighs, her fingers tracing patterns on the window. “It’s not a big deal.”

I feel a pang of frustration, the same protective instinct rising within me. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Another sigh. “Some of the girls at the studio were gossiping about me again…” she murmurs, her voice trailing off. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“What did they say?”

“Just… comments about you, about how lucky I am,” she says bitterly. “And then someone made a remark about my talent and privilege. Like I said, it’s nothing new.”

My jaw clenches. “It shouldn’t be like that, Ashlynn. Teenagers can be cruel.”

“I know that,” she reluctantly admits, her gaze lingering on the passing landmarks. Her voice is tinged with resignation. “But I don’t care. I’m used to it.”

Her resilience tugs at my heart, and her words cut through me, a mix of sadness and frustration. I want to shield her from the harshness of their words, to erase the hurtful words that linger in her mind. To erase the hurt etched on her face.

But I know that it’s not that simple.

She still has to forge her own path to face these challenges in her own way. But she’s strong — stronger than most realize — navigating her world with a grace that belies her youth. My role in her life is to support her and be there for her when she needs me.

As we turn into our neighborhood, the imposing gates loom ahead. I pause long enough to punch in the security code, and they swing open to reveal the long driveway leading up to the mansion. The house stands grand in the fading light, its windows reflecting the last hues of sunset.

I pull into the spacious garage and park, the engine purring to a stop. The automatic lights flicker on, casting a warm glow over the other two cars in the space, one polished and the other covered in a jet-black tarp — Rachel’s car.

Ashlynn doesn’t drive but has expressed interest in learning how to do it. I know Russ has been taking her out for driving lessons. When she’s ready, the car will be hers. Or, I’ll get her another one that’s more to her liking.

“You really should change that code,” she mumbles quietly.

“Why?” I turn to see her watching me, but she diverts her eyes.

She unbuckles her seatbelt, her movements slow and thoughtful. “You know why.”

I reach over to squeeze her hand. “I like it. It means I’ll never forget your birthday.”

The blush I am slowly growing addicted to makes a reappearance. Her smile is faint but genuine as she opens the car door and steps out. I watch her walk toward the house, her silhouette framed against the stately façade.

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