Page 62 of A Little More Hope

I let out a long sigh. “It’s not that easy.”

He silently contemplated me for the longest time until I squirmed uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “It’s as easy as you want it to be,” he answered me, and I rolled my eyes.

“They teach you that crap in some online class you took?’ I shook my head. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“So tell me. Tell me why it’s not that easy and what exactly the issue is.”

“I’m a mess, Gabe, a fucking mess. How can I be what he needs, give him what he wants when I’m so fucked up?”

Pushing up from the bench, Gabe paced in front of me. “What does he want or need, for that matter, huh? Please, tell me. I’ve seen you two together, how you are with each other. He worships the ground you walk on.” He stopped pacing and jabbed a finger at me. “From the short time I’ve known him, I can tell all Ash wants is to be loved, and you already love him. Don’t you?” He waited. “Well, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but—”

“No fucking buts, Mason,” he cut in, smirking at his words. “Well, okay, one for you and the odd couple hundred or so for me,” he chuckled.

A couple hundred or so?

“But—” He got serious again, his rapidly changing mood giving me whiplash as I tried to keep up. “—Ash is a nurturer, a protector; it’s how he shows his love, by taking care of you, keeping you safe, putting you first. What the hell do you think he’s been doing the whole fucking time?”

His words hit me like a freight train. All this time, Ash had consistently shown me how much he loved me, and I’d totally missed it. Even yesterday, after being an asshole to him, he came back to escort me home, despite how furious he was with me.

“How do you know what and who Ash is? You hardly know him.”

Gabe having more insight into Ash than I did annoyed the crap out of me for some reason. I could use my attack and subsequent state of mind as an excuse, but that wouldn’t be true. The simple answer was I’d become too self-absorbed, wallowing in my own self-pity, to look up and see what was right in front of me.

“I pay attention; that’s how. Ash doesn’t care how fucked up you are. He loves you anyway, you stupid dolt.”

“But how do I trust him not to…to…” I shook my head, unable to finish. If I let Ash fully inside, only for him to betray me, I’d never recover.

“To what? Have an affair? Leave? Not hurt you?”

All the above.

“It’s called having hope and a whole lot of faith,” he replied.

What a load of crap.

“Oh, well, gee thanks. Fucking hope and faith.” I shook my head at him. “That’s so fucking lame.”

“Is it? Well, answer me this. What exactly have you done to prove how trustworthy you are to him? As I have ta tell ya, from where I’m standing, I ain’t seen much evidence so far.”

I registered the slip of his usually well-spoken accent—a return to his Brooklyn roots, which only happened when he got emotional or angry, or both.

“What?”

“What have you done to prove your trust to him?” he enunciated each word, as if I were a child. “Okay, you’ve helped with his renovation, proved your worth, but anyone could have worked with him on the house. What else?” He tapped his finger to his lips a few times, “Nope, from where I’m standing, that’s about as much as I can see.” He went back to pacing. “And then you went and did the one thing guaranteed to hurt him the most, when it’s crystal clear to me, he’d turn his world upside down and inside out for you. You fucking left him.”

I choked out an unintelligible reply.

Gabe’s hand cupped his ear. “Nope, I didn’t quite catch your answer there, pal,” he replied sarcastically.

“He left me,” I shouted at him. Christ, wasn’t he meant to be on my side?

He tutted and gave me a pitying look. “He may have dumped your sorry ass, but you’re the one who did the leaving.”

“What?” I frowned, scrunching my face up. “You’re not making any sense.”

He spread his hands. “Think about what I said for a second. I’m sure it’ll come to you.”

---