Page 51 of Infinite
No, I’m not sure. I’m not sure about anything. The look in his eyes is haunting me and I’m torn between wanting to throw the door open and launch myself into his arms and running so far he can’t find me.
Quinn smacks his hand against the window. “I can’t lose you again. Get out of the car, sweetheart.”
But then I remember all the things he said and what I know to be true. I can’t go to him or cause him more pain. I have no options other than going. When I look at him, I see the past that I can’t have and the future that was ripped away. It hurts too much, and I can’t endure it anymore.
If I want to move forward, I have to stop looking back.
My hand lifts, touching the imprint of his pressed against the glass. “I love you too much to stay.”
He jiggles the handle, and I thank God it’s locked. If he touches me, if he could reach me, I wouldn’t leave. He still has a chance at a wonderful life with someone else, and I have to give him that.
“No! If you love me you’ll stay. Open the door, baby. Open it and let me take you back inside.” He pulls at it again, but I don’t do as he says. “Damn it, Ashton! We’ve lost so much already! Please don’t let me lose you too!”
My breathing is labored as the tears stream. I’ve taken someone so wonderful and strong and made him beg. I hate myself.
“Drive, now,” I say to the driver between sobs. I close my eyes to stop myself from seeing him like this. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never been like this. I did this. I’mdoingthis, but there’s no other option. My hand touches the seat in front of me and through a strangled voice, I instruct him again. “Drive because I can’t take this anymore. Please, go.”
“Ashton!” Quinn yells, running alongside the car. “Stop!”
I can’t stop or turn back, and I have to leave all of this behind me.
“I’m sorry,” I say and then drop my hand.
Quinn stops running, and I can’t stop myself from looking out the back window to where he stands, shoulders slumped, as I drive away.
I’m not just broken . . . I’m crushed beyond recognition.
18
Ashton
“Are you going to tell me what the hell happened?” Catherine asks as I sit at her counter, hiding from everyone in my life.
“No.”
“Where’s Quinn?”
I flinch and look away. “Where I left him.”
When I got in about four hours ago, my eyes were so red I could barely see out of them. I’m sure I scared the shit out of her since I didn’t call or tell anyone I was coming. But Catherine didn’t push, she brought me inside, put cold washcloths on my face, and gave me a glass of wine—at ten in the morning.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“Did you guys fight?” She pushes again.
“No.”
Catherine takes the wine glass away since I’m on refill number two, stopping me from being able to stare into it. “Okay, then you’re going to have to explain or give me more than one-word answers.”
“He proposed, okay? Well, he sort of deemed us engaged if you’d like to know the truth. He said these amazing and wonderful things, as though everything is going to work itself out because he declared it.” This is when I can’t hold back. I can’t breathe. It all hurts too much. “He can’t just decide, Catherine. He doesn’t get it. I’m not me anymore!”
A moment later, I’m in her arms, sobbing into her chest, soaking the cotton shirt she’s wearing. I’m falling apart, I did what I thought was necessary. I gave Quinn a chance at a life and a family, so I should feel better.
“He loves you, Ashy. He loves you even if you’re not you,” she practically croons.
I hold on to her, if I let go, I’ll crumble to the ground. I’m so alone, even more so than before. Who even knew that was possible?
