Page 90 of #Awestruck

That made some sense. And I knew all about how anger couldn’t heal you and just left behind festering, gaping sores. I had wanted to destroy him for something I thought he’d done to me. I’d spent ten years hating him. But the best thing for me had been forgiving him. Even though I hadn’t realized it at the time, forgiving him, beginning to trust in him, was what had made it so I could move on.

It had helped me become a better, stronger person.

“I don’t think it will matter, Mom.” I didn’t have any hope that things would work out between Evan and me. “He hasn’t called or texted. I’ve tried composing the perfect text to him a million times. The one that will make him accept my apology and beg me to get back together with him. But I just can’t find the right words.”

“So you’re just giving up?”

“I’m not giving up,” I retorted. “I’m accepting reality.”

“Ashton, my daughter, I love you. But this is what you do. You’re not ‘accepting reality.’ You are definitely giving up. You always take the easy way out. Instead of telling Evan the truth about your work situation, you pretended like it didn’t exist. You literally did nothing and hoped it would all work out and that there wouldn’t be any consequences for your inaction.”

I gasped, unable to believe my own mother was talking this way to me.

She went on, still in full therapist mode. “And ever since high school, you make protecting yourself your number-one priority. You’re never vulnerable. You don’t take risks.”

“I take risks!” I protested.

My mom smiled sadly at me. “I don’t mean professionally. I mean personally. You keep everyone at arm’s length, including Evan. He didn’t deserve that.”

I was in complete and total shock. Was she right? Was I just giving up?

“Maybe you need to make the first move. Show him how you feel instead of waiting for him to come to you. I think you’re the one who needs to apologize and own your behavior.”

Anger and denial roared up inside me, and I was about to tell my mom she had no idea what she was talking about when Aubrey asked, “Ashton, when was the last time you ate?”

Her question diffused my anger, which was probably the point. She’d always been good at running interference for me and my mother. “I’m not sure.” My appetite had been completely killed, and I couldn’t find the energy to eat on a regular basis. But I didn’t want to tell her in front of Charlotte that I’d been too sad to eat.

“Your fridge has nothing but soy sauce packets and milk that has turned into cottage cheese. Mom, would you mind going to the store? I’m going to clear out whatever science experiments are happening in the refrigerator.”

“Any special requests?” my mom asked, but I just shook my head. She promised she’d be back soon, and I tried not to think about what she’d just said to me. As she pulled her keys from her purse, I had to force myself to not think about when Evan went shopping for me after my surgery. The way he’d taken care of me, looked at me like he’d loved me.

And I’d ruined all of it.

My mom was right. I had screwed up even worse than I’d originally thought. I sucked in several deep breaths, trying to ignore the sharp shooting pains against my chest.

“Come on,” Rory said, standing in front of me and offering me her hands. “Aubrey and I will clean your kitchen, but you have to clean yourself. We won’t be able to tell if we cleaned away that funky smell until we know for sure it’s not you.”

She walked me to my bathroom, turning on the hot water and staying while I took off my clothes.

“Use soap. And shampoo,” she said before turning on the ventilation fan and leaving me in my shower.

The water actually felt amazing. I’d forgotten how nice it was to be clean. I washed my hair two times and scrubbed myself all over.

I took the longest shower of my life, until the heat began to disappear. The water beating down on me felt so cleansing. Not just physically but emotionally as well.

I got out and changed, leaving my hair wet. I brushed through it, getting a couple of tangles clear.

My sisters were loudly discussing the state of my kitchen when I came back out to join them. “Good. You’re no longer sporting a cloud of stench behind you,” Rory said.

Aubrey stopped scrubbing my peninsula counter and said, “Do you remember when you last left your condo?”

I realized I hadn’t since Evan and I broke up. The days all blended together. I could have used my daily sports shows to keep track, but I couldn’t watchSportsCenterorSports Todaywithout breaking down in hysterical sobs.

Rory, who had never been a big fan of cleaning, came to sit next to me on the couch. She moved the yarn I’d halfheartedly attempted to keep working on out of her way. “What’s this?”

“It was a sweater. For Evan for Christmas.” There didn’t seem much point in making it now, but it did occasionally help keep my hands busy.

She held up the partially constructed sweater. “You must have really loved him, given how bad you are at knitting. Did he know you’re terrible? There wouldn’t have been a better way to show him how much you truly loved him.”

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