An icy hand gripped my heart. “Is it…is it the cancer?”
Nate grabbed my free hand but didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. He was here, and that was what I needed.
“No, that’s not it.” She paused, then repeated the assurance, “It’s not cancer, Ash. I promise.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her, but I wanted to so badly. If I didn’t push the issue now, I could pretend, at least for another day, that she was okay. Maybe it was foolish, thinking about it that way, but it was the only way I could think of to let myself agree to wait until tomorrow to find out what was going on. One thing supporting her statement that it wasn’t the cancer was that she was willing to wait to tell me. She’d never hidden or sugarcoated anything when it’d come to medical issues.
I worked at keeping my voice even and worry-free. She didn’t need to add me being worried about this to the things on her plate. “All right, Mom. When do you want me to come over?”
“After lunch would be best. I’ll need a couple hours in the morning to finish a project for work.”
Okay, if she was planning to work in the morning, it couldn’t be too tragic, right?
“Nate’s welcome to come with you.”
Relief took some of the weight off me. I’d wanted to ask but wasn’t sure how I could ask her, or ask Nate, for that matter. Now that I had her permission to bring him, it would be easier to ask him to come along.
“Okay. I’ll ask.”
A moment of silence hung between us before she spoke again. “I’ll see you then.”
I didn’t put down my phone even when it beeped in my ear to signal that the call had ended. I felt like my brain was stuttering, skipping like old records used to, unable to process and unable to move forward.
Only one thing was for sure. I didn’t give a damn about that stupid letter anymore.
Twenty-Seven
Nate
“Ashlee…”I didn’t know how to ask what I needed to know without the question sounding stupid. She clearly wasn’t okay.
“Mom wants to see me tomorrow.” Her smile was forced. “She didn’t want to talk about it on the phone.”
“Is she sick again?” I hadn’t been able to hear Roberta’s response to Ashlee’s question about the cancer being back. If it was, I’d make sure Roberta had the best care, the best doctors, whatever it took.
“She said no.”
I could hear the doubt in Ashlee’s words. I squeezed her hand. “If she is, we’ll make sure she gets the best of everything.”
“Thank you.” She sighed. “I don’t think that’s it. I mean, I’m petrified that she just didn’t want me to worry tonight, but when I come at it logically, I know she wouldn’t make me wait for something like that. If she’d had a bad test result or something equally negative, she would’ve come straight to me. Or if she didn’t feel like she could come here, she’d have asked me to come over right away.”
I didn’t like this. I was supposed to take care of her, but how could I do that when there wasn’t anything I could do about the situation? It was frustrating enough, not being able to go to the media to defend myself and Ashlee against the accusations made against us, but this was worse. At least with the things going on with Calah, Roma, and Flora, I had legal recourse. I still preferred to fight my own battles, but I hadn’t been completely sidelined.
With this, I had no power, no plan. Nothing. I didn’t even know who or what we would be fighting against.
“What can I do?” I asked, putting my hand on her cheek. “Tell me how I can take care of you,le soleil.”
The hurt and anxiety in her eyes cut me deep. “I need to forget. To not think about all the things that could be wrong. I need to get out of my head.”
That, I could do.
I stood up and pulled her to her feet. One arm went around her waist, the other on the back of her neck, my thumb brushing back and forth across the bottom of her jaw. I held her tight, letting my body tell her without words that I’d never let her fall. Gently, my lips pressed against hers, the kiss soft and sweet.
Yesterday and earlier today, we’d both needed the distraction that came with rough intensity, with mind-clearing pain and the headspace that came with it. Right now, she needed to be comforted, cared for. As a Dom, it was my job. As her boyfriend, it was my privilege.
Neither of us spoke as I led her to my bedroom, though I felt her pause when she realized we weren’t going to the playroom. I took my time undressing her, letting touches linger on her soft skin. The tops of her breasts. The slight curve of her stomach. The backs of her knees.
When I knelt in front of her to help her remove her pants, she put a hand on my shoulder, her touch burning me through my shirt. Her skin was hot, body flushed with anticipation. I wouldn’t let her down. I would please her, worship her, say with my body all the things that I wasn’t quite ready to say out loud.