Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
My mouth works, but I shake my head, clearing it. He’s trying to fuck with me, but I won’t let him. I hold up the ring instead. “It’s a nice trick, what you keep doing.”
“Thank you.”
“How’d you find it this time?”
“Contacts at the water station. Took a lot of money and a lot of manpower. Please don’t do that again. They’ll be angry with me, and I’ll be forced to buy the whole place.”
“You really would, wouldn’t you?” I sigh and toss the ring at him. “I don’t want it.”
He catches it. “But it’s yours.” He throws it back.
Despite myself, I let it fall into my palms. I squeeze them shut. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”
“You know why.” He comes down a step.
“Stop it. I told you not to come closer.”
“You said not to come down off the stoop.” He comes down another step. “I have one more to go.”
“Please, Carson. Please, can you just leave me alone? You lied to me. You manipulated me. I can’t trust myself with you.”
“Then don’t.” His tone is plaintive. Almost begging. “Trust that I have your best interests at heart. Trust that I’ll never hurt you, and I’ll never let harm come to those you care about. Trust that I love you deeply, in a way you may never understand.”
“You’re mentally unstable.”
“I acknowledge that and don’t deny it.”
“I should run screaming.”
“Probably. But you won’t.” He moves down to the last step but doesn’t come onto the sidewalk.
Following my wishes yet again.
“I just came to give the ring back. And to ask you not to keep returning it.”
“The ring is yours, my angel.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He’s silent. The world feels like it’s contracting, the block crashing down onto my head. His gaze hurts, an electric burn. I’m addicted to that feeling, and I hate myself for wanting him still, despite everything. If he kissed me, I wouldn’t stop him, and that makes me wish I could throw myself out a window instead of the stupid ring.
“I really meant it when I said I tried my hardest never to cross the line, but I can’t undo what I’ve done. You changed me, Ashlyn. The moment I saw you, I knew I couldn’t stay away. Like a disease, you entered me. You took the strange, twisted pieces of me, and you rewired them into something stable. With you, I can feel like a person again, despite all the ways I’m so clearly defective. Even as a broken thing, you make me feel whole. I can’t let that go. I won’t let it go, not when I know I can give you so much.”
I swallow down the tears. “Stop following me.” I throw the ring at him.
He catches it and says nothing. This time, I turn away, shaking as I start walking. I’m crying, but I don’t want him to see it. I don’t want him to know what he said shattered me.
Because it doesn’t matter how he feels.
It doesn’t matter what I want.
All that matters is he manipulated me for ten years, and I can’t ever forgive him. How could I look myself in the mirror if I ever did? Even if I want to turn around and kiss him, even if I miss his bed, his shower, his lips nuzzling my chest in the morning, his bites marking my flesh in the evenings. Even his strange sense of humor. I miss it all and want it back so badly it’s like an organ’s shutting down the further I get from him.
But I’ll be nothing if I turn back.
The ring shows up outside of Bernie’s apartment the next morning with a bag of bagels and a note. I’ll protect you no matter what. Even broken things can do right sometimes. I love you. Carson.
“We have too many of these,” Bernie murmurs as she shoves the majority of the bagels into the freezer.
Chapter 37
Ash
I stand in my office in Bottle of Smoke. For the first time in over a month, the room is cleared of boxes. All the new dishware is in rotation, the new glasses cleaned and ready to go, all the new decorations placed out around the main room. Keely and Jamila had a ton of fun with that.
It’s strange, but I feel empty. I thought improving the bar would make me happy. Instead, there’s only a sinking realization that nothing will ever fill the void Carson left when I walked out on him.
I sink down into my seat behind the desk and stare at the ceiling.
I’m too distinctly aware that everything in Smoke exists because of him. Not only all the recent upgrades, but the building itself—without Carson’s help over the years, we likely would’ve gone out of business.
None of this is mine.
But despite all that, I play with the ring, spinning it around, watching as it wobbles and falls.