Page 22 of Never Give Up

“You can’t keep choosing your job over your boys.” She finally speaks, her fingers worrying the leather strap of her bag.

“We’re not fighting about this again, Ashley. I’m not choosing my job over them,” I say, a strange calm descending over my body. “I never would.”

I don’t need to say anything else about it. The implication is there. The silent judgment, where she accuses me of picking up shifts instead of sitting at home with her.

“I’m not—” She stops. “This isn’t about me. But I can’t always be here. And there’ll come a time I can’t.”

“I’m aware. I’ve already made arrangements.” I have, too. I asked my parents to help out until I can get background checks cleared on the two sitters who I found through the boys’ school.

She breathes out. “Your job is important, but so is your family. Sometimes you need to make a choice.”

“I did.”

A shard of pain passes over her face. “I’m not talking about me.” She repeats herself. “We broke up. Brian, you’re so arrogant sometimes and I know there are calls you don’t need to go on.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” I rub a hand over my face. “I had no choice but to go on the call.”

“I know. And I said I would stay, but was itthatimportant?”

“Yes.” A muscle flexes hard in my jaw as she stares at me, like she’s waiting for an explanation. “You know I can’t tell you everything about a call. It’s ongoing. And for the record, I never chose my job over my sons. I chose my job over you, but it was only that way because you never cared enough about me or what I wanted to support me in this job.” I stand there in the kitchen, watching as her face takes on different shades of disbelief.

“Brian, I didn’t…” she whispers finally. “That’s not fair. I’m not trying to get back together. And even if I were, it’s obvious that’s not happening.”

I try to think of something to say to her, but can’t. Through the haze of hate that’s sprung up between us, along with the guilt for feeling that way, and the fear for Maya, I try to care.

But I can’t. I’m out of any fucks to give.

She swallows and her eyes glimmer. “I care, not in a ‘give us a chance way,’ believe it or not. But if you want someone else to help, then do it. I’m just saying I care.”

The boys are easy to love. But it’s almost like a stranger, one I’m seeing for the very first time in my entire life, stands in my kitchen. One that’s only here because I’m too stubborn to admit the truth.

“It’s over,” I tell her quietly. “Everything between us is over. I know you’ve got a place lined up. You told me as much. The boys are taken care of. I don’t need you.”

No. The only one I need is just out of reach.

Just like that, Ashley walks out, and I can breathe again.

At least until I let my mind drift to Maya and what comes next.

Dealing with the fallout of my wife’s death stole too much of my energy and sapped my will to be alone. I met Ashley at a bar, and once I took her home, she never left.

But the more I talked to Maya, the more I realized how amazing she is, how much she deserves in her life. How much I want her in my life.

How much I need her.

Devoted to children, intelligent and kind and takes time out of her life to volunteer for every function the sheriff’s department puts on.

She’s everything that I want, without even trying. She’s fucking perfect, if there were ever such a thing.

On top of every bullshit reason I come up with to stay away from her, Maya is young. Too young for me.

None of that matters. Not now. Now you need to fight for her.

The voice in my head, the one that’s been condemning me to hell for the last three years for wanting her, suddenly switches sides.

My heart aches, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I’m the asshole who pushed her away instead of letting her in.

I almost lost her, and I never even had a chance to call her mine.

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