Page 9 of Poison's Promise

“Hey,” I say, my eyes immediately finding Tilly in her pack and play.

Her tiny fists wave in the air, and she lets out a giggle that tugs at something deep inside me. There’s no better sound in the world.

“Hi,” Rachel says from the recliner next to Tilly’s makeshift crib.

Her eyes dart up the second she sees me, a mix of hope and anxiety swirling in their depths. She sits up straighter, as if bracing for impact.

“How’s she been?” I ask, keeping my voice neutral.

All my focus is on Tilly now, her innocent eyes locking onto mine.

“Good,” Rachel replies softly. “She’s been good.”

I nod, picking up a toy from the floor and handing it to Tilly, who grabs it with an excited squeal.

Seeing my daughter fills me with a warmth I can’t describe, a love so pure it almost hurts. But seeing Rachel? That’s another story.

“Glad to hear it,” I say, straightening up and finally meeting Rachel’s gaze.

Internally, I brace myself. Being near her is like navigating a minefield, one wrong step and everything could blow up.

“Thanks for waiting for me to get finished,” I add, trying to keep things civil. For Tilly’s sake. Always for Tilly.

“Of course, you had to work, and I just wanted to help.” Rachel says, her voice tinged with something I don’t want to name.

She shifts in her seat, her fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on the armrest.

Rachel licks her lips nervously, “Can we talk about things, Ash?”

“Unless it’s about Tilly, then no.” My tone is flat, final. I can’t go through this again. I can’t keep fucking fighting with her.

Rachel’s face crumples, her eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “I’m not ready to give up on us,” she whispers, voice cracking. “I still love you.”

“Rachel,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. “We haven’t been together since Tilly was born. Almost nine months now. It’s over. I love you, but I’m not in love with you. We can’t keep having this conversation.”

Rachel’s tears begin slowly escaping through the corners of her eyes. “But it doesn’t have to be! We can work through this. We’ve been through so much worse, and we have a daughter to think about.”

“Have we?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Because from where I’m standing, all we’ve done is hurt each other. We’re good friends, but romantically? We’re a disaster.”

“Please,” she begs, reaching out a hand toward me. “Just give us another chance.”

“Stop,” I snap, louder than I intended. “I can’t stand this shit, Rachel. All I want is for us to get along for Tilly’s sake. That’s it.”

Tilly gurgles in her pack and play, oblivious to the tension between her parents.

I glance her way, my heart aching. She deserves better than this constant tug-of-war.

“Do you really mean that?” Rachel’s voice is small, broken.

“Yes, I do,” I say, steeling myself against the pain in her eyes. “For Tilly’s sake, we need to move on. Both of us.”

“Wow. You really want this to be done. Rachel’s voice cuts through the thick tension like a knife. Her eyes are wide, desperate, and praying for me to change my mind.

“Yes,” I say, my tone as firm as I can muster. “I want this to be done and over with.”

She flinches at my words, like each one is a physical blow. But she needs to hear this. We both do.

“You’re a good friend, Rachel,” I continue, trying to soften the edges of my harshness. “But we can’t be together—it’s too toxic.”

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