Page 45 of Keeping Mr. Sweet

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SAM

“Ash?” She’s so still; like one of those human statues. Only her shoulders move up and down quickly as though she’s breathing too fast. I grasp her hand and disentangle my phone from her fingers, pocket it. I fight the urge to call him back and tell the man he’s a fool. His daughter is so much more important than his memories. How is he not able to see that? How can he crush her the way he does?

“Hmmm?” She keeps her back to me, lost in her own thoughts.

“Look at me, Ash.” I grasp her elbow and turn her around. She barely glances at me, so I take her face between both my hands. Who cares if Summer works out we’re together on her own? Who cares if our friends are gaping at us now, or are completely oblivious? Year after year we’ve all made excuses for him, but not anymore. I remember my own dad telling me that Robert loved Ashleigh in his own way, but it was hard on him when she reminded him so much of his wife. But surely a man who loved his daughter wouldn’t be so cold. “He’s the one who screwed up. Not you. He couldn’t get his own head out of his ass long enough to realize how lucky he was to have you in his life.”

“Because I broke his heart,” she says, matter of fact. It’s been indoctrinated into her head for so long it’s become truth to her.

“God, no. It wasn’t your fault. It was an unfortunate situation. That’s all. You’re not to blame for everything that happens. Not your mother’s death and not your father’s inability to be a fucking human. You have to know that.”

“Maybe.” She bites her lip, glancing at some point near my bicep. “I think I just need a minute.”

“Sure.” I squeeze her elbow. “We can use the office.”

“No.” She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear as she finally brings her gaze to mine. “If it’s all right, I need to be on my own for a little while. A few minutes to compose myself.”

“Are you sure?”

She almost smiles at that, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Of more things than you would believe.”

What’s that supposed to mean? I watch her quickly cross the room and leave via the kitchen, and immediately I want to go after her. Instead, I pour another drink and wait. Just because she took off upset, doesn’t mean she’s running away.

“How long, Sam?” Summer nudges me in the ribs with her elbow.

“Huh?”

“Oh I don’t know, you hypocrite.” She begins to mimic me, “They’re too old for you, Summer. You can’t possibly have anything in common. They want things you’re not ready for. You’re too young to settle down. Exactly how much history is there between you and Ash anyway?”

I almost spit out my drink. Have to thump my fist to my chest when it goes down the wrong way. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh no?” She crosses her arms over her chest and stares me down. “Are you now going to tell me that this thing between you two sprung up out of nowhere?”

“We’ve been friends a long time.” I shrug. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Why are you avoiding answering the question?” She narrows blue eyes that are almost identical to mine. “I might only teach math to six-year-olds, but I can still add up the clues here. You two are like a sudoku puzzle, actually. Her crush that summer we were fourteen…we practically stalked you. Your inability to date a girl you actually might fall for in the past ten years. What she said the other night about not being able to love anyone because she’d already found the one.”

“And if your crazy rambling is true?” I ask.

“Do you love her?” She scrunches her brows together. “Like really, really love her?”

“I almost asked her to marry me seven years ago. Does that answer your question?”

She lets out a low whistle. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because she ran off to take a job with an airline that would keep her as far away from me as possible. Told me she was too young for us to be serious about each other.” I glance at the kitchen doors. How long has it been since she stepped out of the room?

“Now it begins to make sense.” She nods slowly.

“There was more to it than that.” I’m finding it suddenly uncomfortable to breathe. My chest tightens as I check the time. Has it really been twenty minutes? What is she doing? She wouldn’t take off now, would she? She’s not the same old Ash who goes on a bender when she can’t cope. Aren’t we past that?

“Where did she get to anyway?” Summer asks.

“I don’t know.” I grit my teeth as I stalk in the direction she went. “I’m going to go check on her.”

She’s not in the kitchen, or my office, or the pantry. The storage room is empty, and she’s not tucked away on the stairs. Our room is empty, though her clothes are still there. And that cupcake is still sitting on my bedside table. I double back to the kitchen and grab my coat off the hook by the back door before stepping out into the cold.

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