Page 33 of Impulsive Saint
“Since we’re friends…” She smiled hopefully, “Will you cut me some slack and let me get over the worst of my first hangover before you make me get back on the motorcycle?”
He chuckled and shook his head, “I should’ve known that wasn’t an innocent question.”
“Me? Innocent?” She teased. “Always.”
“Uh huh.” He pushed back up from the doorframe to his full height, “You mentioned last night that you’d never been drunk before. You were serious about that?”
“Yeah.”
“Explains the hangover.” he sighed. “I still don’t understand how it’s possible you got to the ripe old age of twenty-three and had never gotten drunk before last night.”
“There’s so many things I haven’t done.” She looked away, rubbing her thumb over the empty space on her left ring finger where her engagement ring had sat for months. She’d taken it off and stored it safely in her bag for now, until she could figure out what to do with it. “That’s why I couldn’t marry Aaron. I have too much I still want to do with my life. I’ve missed out on so much already and I don’t want to get to forty, or thirty, or even twenty-five only to realize that I haven’t really been living. I’ve been on the other side of that and it sucks for everyone. It’s better I do this now.”
Tyler was looking at her curiously when she glanced back up and she sighed, “Ignore me. I’m just rambling.”
“No.” He frowned. “I think you’ve been ignored long enough, Ashtyn. That wasn’t rambling. That was… important, I think.”
She knew she’d said too much but the way he was looking at her made it hard to keep the words locked away. He was really listening to her. He wanted to hear what she had to say. And he was right. She’d spent her whole life being ignored by the men in her life. It felt good to have one of them willing to listen for once.
“My mom.” she admitted, leaning back against the wall and crossing her ankles over each other. “She’s the reason I have to do this now.”
Tyler stepped further into the room, leaning against the vanity across from her, “Do what? This trip?”
“All of it, the trip, the bucket list, and the whole living my life while I’m still young and free enough to live it.” Ashtyn explained. “My mom didn’t do that. She followed all the rules. She did exactly what everyone expected her to do. She married my dad and had me and played the perfect politician’s wife role to perfection.”
“And the problem with that was?” Tyler prompted.
“The problem was, it was all an act. On the inside, it was killing her. Killing her soul. That’s why she tried to commit suicide. To get out of an untenable situation. It was the only way she could think of to escape.”
“Did she tell you that?”
“She didn’t have to.” Ashtyn shook her head wryly. “She and Dad got divorced. She left and she’s happier on her own than she ever was when she was home with us. She needed to be free to find herself and be who she wanted to be and I realized when I was standing in the back of that church that if I married Aaron, I’d be making the same choice she did. I’d be giving up on my own dreams without even trying to reach for them and I don’t want to end up like her. Not like the her that she was when I was a kid, not the kind of mom that was so unhappy with herself that she tried to end it all knowing full well her daughter would have to be the one to find her body.”
Ashtyn shivered, a cold chill going down her spine at the memory of finding her mother laying there nearly lifeless on the floor. She’d had nightmares for years after that day. She’d never been able to shake the voice in the back of her head that wondered what would have happened if she’d stayed at school late that day, if she hadn’t gotten home when she did.
“Hey.” A big hand landed on her knee and she glanced up to find that Tyler was squatting down next to her, a worried look on his handsome face. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re not your mom. You’re not her, Ashtyn.”
She didn’t know what he must have seen on her face to have him looking so worried but she swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded, “I’m trying not to be.”
“I know.” he sighed, his hand moving to push her hair back off her face, “I get it now.”
“You do?”
“Yeah.” His blue eyes met and held hers for a long moment and something she didn’t understand passed between them before he spoke again. “That’s why we’re going to tick off as many items on that bucket list of yours as we can before we get to Vegas.”
Tears she hadn’t realized were pooling in her eyes made her vision blurry, “Really?”
“Really.” He swiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb and when she could see him clearly again he gave her a pointed look. “But not the one-night stand, okay?”
She barked out a surprised laugh and he chuckled as the tension in the room broke. She’d almost forgotten amid everything else that she had told him about that particular part of her bucket list. She laughed even though it made her headache worsen.
“Deal.”
“Good.” He pushed back up to his feet, “Now, since we’re friends, I have to tell you that you stink like sweat and alcohol is wafting from your pores.”
“Hey!” she protested hotly, but he only chuckled as he wiped his hands on his pants and backed away.
“Take a shower and get cleaned up. I’m going to find us somewhere nearby to grab some breakfast before we hit the road. I have a hangover cure that might help you feel better if the shower doesn’t take care of it.”
