Chapter 63
“Ash, I’m Elaine…”
A vision floated through my mind: a little girl with pigtail buns and chubby cheeks, calling out sweetly to a quiet boy.
The boy was standoffish, barely speaking.
Suddenly, I became that little girl, and Ashton morphed into that boy. I was riding piggyback.
“Ash, you smell nice.”
“Ash, there’s a tiny black mole on your neck. Let me get it.”
“Mae, quit pinching. That hurts.”
“Mae, I’m beat. Can we stop running?”
“Mom, I want to marry Ash…”
My parents‘ laughter echoed.
“Stop laughing! I’m gonna marry Ash!”
“Mae, you can’t. You’re already promised to someone…”
“No way! He’s awful. Just awful!”
I jolted awake, heart racing.
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What a weird dream – Ashton and me as toddlers, barely two years old.
I lay there staring at nothing for thirty seconds before sitting up. Last night’s memories came rushing back. I shivered, scanning the empty bed. No Ashton.
Looking down at myself – still fully dressed, nothing disturbed.
Relieved, I walked out to find Ashton crashed on the couch. Even sleeping, he maintained that military precision.
My first thought: that can’t be comfortable.
Something about his perfectionism made me want to mess with him. While he slept, I watched him for a moment before quietly grabbing my laptop and sneaking out.
I couldn’t believe I’d spent the night here. Just thinking about it made my face hot.
Thank god I’d brought my room key.
Maya was still out cold when I crept back in. If she’d been awake, she’d have spun this into some crazy romance novel plot.
The clock read 5:00 AM.
Sleep wasn’t happening, so I opened my laptop to tackle those issues Ashton found yesterday.
But he’d already fixed everything.
I stared at the screen, then freshened up and grabbed some water. Standing on the balcony, I took in the morning view.
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Ashton appeared below. Already up? He’d been sound asleep when I left.
Did I wake him leaving? Or had he been faking sleep to spare me embarrassment?
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Watching him from above, my mind wandered. I had to admit, Ashton was getting to me. His pull wast growing stronger every day.
“If a guy and girl spend the night together but nothing happens what’s that mean?”
I fired off this loaded question to Nora first thing.
Knowing she wouldn’t answer right away, I switched to social media.
Caleb had posted some party pics. Not just him – there were others, including a shot of raised glasses.
One hand I recognized instantly–Logan’s, wearing that cheap ring I’d given him.
Looking at it now made me cringe at my younger self.
They were matching rings; I bought the set on my 18th birthday for $999. I wore the women’s band and
gave him the men’s. He’d joked about me trying to lock him down.
Then he never wore it again. When I brought it up, he said people would laugh at how cheap it was.
I got it – how could someone like him wear a few hundred dollar ring? But I’d bought it with my first t utoring money.
I never mentioned it again, and he never wore it – until now, in this photo.
What was that about?
What message was he sending?
I didn’t know, didn’t want to analyze it.
But seeing that ring stung, reminding me how I’d chased after Logan, always looking up to him like he was something special.
Nora’s text cut through my thoughts: “Who’d you sleep with?” Straight to the point, as usual.
I stared at her message, still caught up in thoughts of Logan and that damn ring.
“Logan?” she guessed, then quickly added, “No, can’t be him.”
“Ashton?” She finally landed on it.
She knew me too well- it wasn’t hard to figure out.
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