Page 91 of You Had Me at Hola
“Well, I’m not justanyone.” Her voice rose in anger. “Don’t treat me like I’m some random person on the street trying to get a picture withthe famous Ashton Suarez.”
The way she said his name, the sarcastic air quotes were clearly implied.
“Jasmine, I gave you more than I’ve given anyone else in... in a long time.” Ever. “And with the way the press is always on your ass, can you blame me for not wanting to reveal everything?”
She sucked in a breath, and her eyebrows dipped in pain. It was a low blow, and he felt terrible, especially since he knew she didn’t enjoy all the attention the media heaped on her.
Jasmine let out a shaky breath, and in a severe voice, said, “Ashton. Youcan’thave it both ways.”
His brow creased. “What do you mean? I’ve been in this business a long time, and I managed to keep Yadiel hidden until now.”
She shut her eyes against his words, and he knew he’d hurt her again. He couldn’t seem to stop. The stress of the last couple weeks had worn him raw.
“You know, I sometimes think, ‘I never asked for it,’” she said in a quiet voice. “But the truth is, the second I signed a contract to be ontelevision, I made a deal with the public. They would get part of me in exchange for knowing my face and connecting with the characters I play. And so did you. You can’t have it both ways, Ashton. You can’t be a public figure and have a completely private life. You think the actors who make it to the Oscars haveprivacy? Don’t be naive.”
He felt like the walls were closing in on him. “I was doing pretty well at it until I met you.”
She sucked in a shocked breath, and the hurt that crossed her features made him feel like absolute shit. It had been another low blow, and he opened his mouth to apologize, but the hotel phone interrupted him. They both stared at it, startled by the ringing of an actual telephone.
“Don’t say another word,” she ground out, her voice hoarse and brittle. She moved to the desk to answer it.
“Hello?” She listened for a moment, then sent Ashton a worried look. “Sí, él está aquí.”
Ashton’s surprise at hearing her speak Spanish meant he wasn’t thinking about who was on the phone. When he lifted the receiver to his ear, he was shocked to hear his father’s voice on the other end. He listened to Ignacio with growing horror,guilt and fear roiling in his gut. With frantic movements, he grabbed the pen and paper on the side of the desk and scribbled down the information.
“Ya salgo para allá.” Ashton replaced the phone in the cradle and stalked over to the sofa. Digging around in the cushions, he retrieved his cell phone and checked the screen. Five missed calls from his father, and a series of texts, telling him what he now already knew.
“Yadiel fell,” he said harshly.
Behind him, Jasmine gasped. “Oh my god. Is he okay?”
The concern in her voice was genuine, but Ashton was too fired up to be kind. “He broke his collarbone. They’re in the ER and my father has been trying to reach me.”
“Oh no. I hope—”
“Jasmine, don’t you see?” Ashton didn’t want her trying to make him feel better. His child washurt, and he hadn’t been there. Never mind that Yadiel wasalwaysclimbing and falling and hurting himself. Ashton had years’ worth of guilt stored up, and for the first time, he had somewhere to direct the pain.
Even if, in the back of his mind, he knew she didn’t deserve it.
When she didn’t respond, he whirled on her, ignoring the hurt look on her pretty face.
“I don’t have time forthis.” He waved a hand, vaguely gesturing at them and everything between them. “Any of it. I should have been with my family. If I had—” Guilt stabbed at him. “My family and my career are the most important things in my life, and now you’ve managed to sabotageboth.”
He ignored her sharp gasp and headed for the door. Whenhe got there, he paused, and gave her his most painful truth. “I’m sorry, Jasmine. I just don’t have room foryou.”
He left without looking back and caught a taxi to the emergency room where his family waited. The whole time, he replayed the horrible things he’d said. The guilt of hurting her mixed with the guilt of not being there for his son, until he felt like he was going to vomit. Or maybe it was the cab driver’s heavy foot on the brake. Either way, by the time he got to the ER, he was sick with worry.
He found Yadiel sitting in a hospital bed playing with Star Wars LEGOs. A sling kept his left arm mostly still. Ignacio sat on a chair next to the bed reading a murder mystery in Spanish.
“Mijo, are you okay?” Ashton rushed over, checking his son for any other signs of injury or distress.
But Yadiel simply received him with a sunny, gap-toothed smile. “Hi, Papi. Can we go home now? To the apartment, I mean.”
Ignacio closed the book and stood. “We’re all done here,” he said in Spanish. “They patched him up sooner than expected. We would have met you back at the rental, but you were already on your way, so we figured we’d wait. Your grandparents already went back in a taxi.”
Ashton felt like the floor had rocked under his feet. Yadiel was...fine. Everyonewas fine. Without him. He’d built up all this anxiety and fear—for nothing. And now the emotions had nowhere to go.
Ignacio gathered the LEGOs and his book into Yadiel’s Spider-Man backpack and hoisted it over his own shoulder. “Vámonos, Yadi.”
