Page 10 of Never Give Up

For the sake of my sanity, and the fact that I haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours, I ask the question I know she wants me to. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re late, and I spilled sauce on me while cooking dinner and…” She stops, smoothing her hands down her jean-covered thighs. “I got worried when you didn’t come home after shift.”

I don’t think she’s telling the whole truth, but there are lines now that I can’t cross. Intimacies I won’t open up or invite in. Especially with the way she’s staring at me expectantly. I shouldn’t have even asked what was wrong. Things between us are better left in the non-romantic limbo that we’ve created. Pseudo-friendship, at most, until she finds another place to live, and I find another babysitter for my boys.

I sigh and run a hand over my face, buying a few more seconds of peace before I have to enter the fray and go to war with my words. If I cross a line, or if she does, it will destroy the tenuous balance we’ve got going on, and I need it to stay in place for another few days. Just until I get my pieces moved around.

“I should have called to let you know I’d be late.” I pull on my shirt, thankful to have the separation between us, and sit on the opposite side of the couch, leaving plenty of space. “There was a problem with one of our dispatchers.” I don’t tell her it was Maya. That would open an entirely new can of worms that I don’t want to deal with, because Ashley isn’t stupid. She might not know exactly how I feel about the other woman, but she knows there’s something there. “Thanks for keeping an eye on the boys. I know you don’t like staying up that late. Or waking up early…” I trail off, because honestly I’m not sure which it is, but I’m starting to think maybe she hasn’t slept at all.

“It doesn’t matter.” She turns away from me on the couch. “I should go.”

“They’re family, too.”

Ashley turns to me as she gets up. “I know they’re your family. The entire department is. But you know that you have a family right here, too.”

I frown, already knowing it’s a fight I’m not going to win.

“It’s not about me, Brian. Just… you have your work family, I get that, and I’m not complaining. But you have two boys here who depend on you for everything, and a call or a text goes a long way.” There’s something almost like condemnation in her words. And I can’t help but resent her even more for it.

Ashley knew when we started dating years ago that I would always live this life. Late night callouts, being late after work, missing important dates and holidays, all of it. She also knew it when we broke up and offered to stay to help with the boys until she figured shit out.

I’m grateful for her help with the boys, even if sometimes I wonder if she wants more. Days like today, when she’s wearing my shirt, crying like I don’t know I’m the reason for her tears.

Am I using her?

I need the help, and she volunteered to sit with the boys when I work. I offer to pay her, every single time, but she says no. It’s not like she pays rent, though. I buy all the food, pay all the bills. She just does her own thing and stays with the boys at night when I’ve got an overnight shift.

What kind of man does it make me that I let her help, knowing that I don’t want her? That there’s no future for us?

Not the type of man that Maya will ever be able to love and respect.

The darkness in my heart, the part that rejected the woman I want, is screaming at me that I’m ruining everything, all over again.

“Ashley, you’re right, I should have called.”

My unspoken words are there, too. The ones telling her that she doesn’t need to be here. That my life isn’t hers to question anymore. That we’re not together.

But she just nods instead of starting the fight I expect her to. “Like I said, I’m tired.”

I’m not ready to let it go at that. “I told you before, you don’t have to stay with them.”

“No,” Ashley says, “The boys are better staying with me than going to your parents. At least here they have someone who cares.”

Again, she’s making snide comments. I have to force myself not to tell her that my parents care a hell of a lot more than she ever did.

“Okay, thanks for helping,” I manage instead. “I’m going to bed. Night.”

I’m so tired of feeling like I’m always the bad guy. Like I’m the villain in my own story. It’s time to cut the cord with Ashley, and tonight’s the nail in the coffin of this bullshit codependency I’ve inadvertently created.

Maybe after…

Before my mind goes right back down the road to Maya—which it absolutely shouldn’t be doing—I shut it down.

I’m about to slip into bed when I change my mind and go down the hall into the boys’ room instead.

A pillow lies on the floor. I pick it up and drop it on James’ bed.

The boys are fast asleep, snoring lightly, and I smile as a familiar warmth floods my veins.

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