Page 92 of Myself

She tosses the spatula onto the countertop, places her hands on either side of her, and hangs her head. “Yeah,” she says, sounding defeated. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“I needed to get up anyway,” I tell her. “Can I help you with something?”

She lifts her head and looks at me. I see unshed tears in her eyes. She looks away from me and shakes her head.

“I, uh, will leave you alone ...” I trail off, not knowing what to really say to her.

“Thank you,” she says, stopping me from leaving the kitchen.

“For what?” I ask frowning.

She looks down at the floor. “I went and saw Bradley last night.”

Shit! I close my eyes and sigh; I hope she didn’t do something that she now regrets. “I guess it went badly?” I ask looking at her.

“As well as I had expected.” She licks her lips. “He proposed.”

My brows shoot up, and I look at her ring finger. “And?” I ask when I don’t see the ring I had seen.

“I said no.” She sighs. “He told me that he had knocked on the door to talk to me again, and you answered and wouldn’t let him in.”

I swallow. “He wanted to see you. But I wouldn’t let him. I’m sorry for stepping in, but you were so upset—”

“Thank you,” she says, interrupting me. “He said you took up for Ryder. That you told him to leave and that Ryder just needed time.” I nod. “And he said that after he thought about what you had said, that maybe I just needed time as well.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t. Ryder and I may have broken up, but I never loved Bradley the way he loved me. And marrying him isn’t the answer to my problems.”

“Have you spoken to Ryder?” I ask, wondering if he had ever called. Or vice versa.

She looks down at her hands. “I did. Once. But he never said a word or called me back.”

Because you were talking to me. How can I break this woman’s heart anymore? I just can’t do it.

“What are you guys doing?”

I spin around to see Becca walking into the kitchen with her robe wrapped around her. “I’m burning shit,” Ashlyn says simply and then laughs at

herself. She picks up the pan and places it in the sink. “I’m running late to work. I’ll just grab something on the way.”

Becca runs a hand through her tangled brown hair. “What do you wanna do tonight after you get off work?”

She pauses on her way to the front door. She looks from me to Becca. “No offense, but I really just wanna be alone.” Becca frowns. “I just need some time to figure out ...” She pauses and sighs heavily. “I just wanna be alone,” she repeats and then turns and walks out the front door.

I turn around and see Becca standing there with her hands on her hips, giving me a look of annoyance. “What?” I ask.

“Bradley was going to propose to her? And you knew?”

Of course, she heard. “Yes. He said that was also why he came here.”

“She told him no?” I nod. She lets out a long breath.

“Maybe we should stay at my house tonight,” I offer, changing the subject.

She frowns. “What kind of friend would I be if I leave her after what happened?”

“The kind who respects what their friend wants,” I state.

Her shoulders fall. “I can’t do that. Maybe tomorrow night.”

We make our way back to her bedroom, and she unties her robe. “Have you heard from Ryder?” she asks.

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