by Iris Morland
She stared up at him, confused and dazed, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry,” was all she said.
To his surprise, she then reached up and kissed him. He tasted sadness in that kiss, and it broke something inside him. If she left him, if she never loved him—it was too unbearable to think about.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” he said. He threw the covers over them both and gathered her into his arms, the sound of her deep sigh a melancholy lullaby as he slid into sleep.
18
Violet groaned as she awoke to the sound of someone talking. It took her a long moment to come out of her dream to realize it was the sound of Ash’s voice. Opening one bleary eye, she saw him pass by his bedroom, his phone up to his ear.
“Great, that’s fantastic news,” she heard him say. “Yes, I’ll be down there by this afternoon. Great. Thank you.”
Violet yawned. She needed to get back to the hospital before Martha was checked out. Glancing at her phone, she saw that she had a little time to spare.
Her stomach rumbled ominously. When had she last eaten? She couldn’t even remember.
It’d been two days since Martha had been admitted to the hospital. When Violet had left to go home to get some sleep, she hadn’t intended on going to Ash’s. Yet the thought of going to that house without Martha had been unbearable. Like she couldn’t control herself, she’d driven straight to Ash’s, not caring that it was late or that it was pouring down rain.
She’d just needed to see him. To be with him. She shivered as she remembered how he’d looked at her as he’d thrust inside her.
And had he said that he loved her? She hadn’t been certain she hadn’t imagined that. She’d been so exhausted and high off her orgasms that she very well could’ve been hearing things.
Clutching at her pillow, she tried to catch a few more minutes of sleep, but her stomach wasn’t going to let her off the hook.
“Violet, are you awake?” Ash sat down on the bed next to her, and she rolled over. He was smiling from ear to ear. What news had he gotten that had made him so excited?
“I’m sort of awake.” She yawned again and sat up. “I need to take a shower. Ugh. I probably smell.” When her stomach rumbled, Ash raised an eyebrow.
“Let’s get you something to eat first,” he said. “I’m pretty sure I have at least three different kinds of cereal to choose from.”
“How fancy.” She slipped out of bed and found Ash’s robe from the night before, knowing full well Ash watched her every move. If she weren’t so exhausted and hungry, she’d pull him straight back into bed for another round of mind-blowing sex.
Ash made coffee while Violet made herself a bowl of cereal. They sat down at the dining room table, although Ash couldn’t stop fidgeting. He tapped his fingers against the table, or he tapped his foot, to the point that he almost stepped on Violet’s toes.
He kept smiling at her, and both exasperated and amused, she demanded, “What is it?”
“I wanted to wait to tell you, until I had signed everything, but—” He grinned, laughing a little as he leaned toward her. “Violet, you don’t have to worry about your debt anymore. I took care of it. The collections agency will leave you alone from now on.”
She stared at him in shock. Her tired, sluggish brain could barely comprehend what he was saying. “What do you mean, you took care of it? How?”
“When I’d figured out that William had stolen money from you—”
Violet flinched at the reminder, but Ash was too distracted to notice.
“—I knew I had to do something to help. Not just go through your books. I had savings of my own, but not enough to pay off your debt. I just got the news that the bank approved my loan to pay off your loan. So it’s over. Everything is paid for.”
Violet licked her dry lips. “How much?”
“The loan is for twenty thousand, but the interest is at a great rate. I’ll be able to pay it off in no time.” He took her hands, rubbing her fingers. “Violet, it’s over. You’re free.”
It was strange, but Violet felt anything but free. She felt…hollow. She couldn’t understand why Ash would do this without asking her. Twenty thousand dollars? Not to mention the ten thousand he must’ve pulled from his own savings. Just the thought of him spending that much money on her debt made her want to vomit.
“I can’t let you do that,” she finally whispered. She took her hands from his. “I can’t let you spend your savings on me like that.”
He frowned. “It was my decision. You were in a tough spot, and there’s little chance we’ll get back the money William stole from you. It was the only way.”
She felt like no one was listening to her. William hadn’t believed in her ability to run her own business, and now Ash thought she couldn’t manage her own finances. That debt had been her burden to bear, and hers alone.
“I appreciate what you’ve done,” said Violet, “but I can’t let you pay that debt off for me. It’s not right.”
“How isn’t it right?” Ash looked flabbergasted. “I did it because I wanted to. You needed help, and so I helped you.”
It was like a wave of anger finally overtook her. She slapped her palm onto the table so hard that the dishes rattled, startling Ash.
“I didn’t ask you to help me!” she cried, her face turning hot. “I didn’t ask you to drain your savings, I didn’t ask you to take out a loan. Ash, you didn’t stop to think that maybe you should ask me first? That maybe I would say no?”
“I didn’t have time to ask you. I just did it.” His voice hardened. “I knew you would say no, but I knew that would’ve been a stupid decision on your part. So yeah, I did it without asking. Sue me. At least now you won’t be having a collections agency coming after you over a debt you’ve avoided even looking at for months now.”
She stared at him, incredulous. His words reminded her of William’s, how he’d told her she couldn’t do anything without him. She thought of how she’d argued with her husband, how he’d died when their last words to each other had been ones like these.
Everything collided until Violet couldn’t breathe. She choked back a sob—whether of grief or of rage, she wasn’t sure—and she got up from the table before she said something she’d truly regret.
“So that’s it?” Ash demanded, following her. “You’re not even going to thank me?”
Violet let out an incredulous laugh. “Thank you? You want me to thank you for going behind my back, doing this without asking me, because you think I’m so incapable of running my own life—”
“I don’t think that!” he roared. She whirled to face him, her back to the wall now. “I don’t think that, because I love you! I did it because I love you and I want to fucking marry you!”
They were both breathing hard at this point. Violet couldn’t speak. The words she’d so longed to hear in the daylight had been said, and by the man she loved in return. But now… now they felt tainted. She took in a shuddering breath.
“If you love someone, you don’t do things like this without asking them,” she whispered. “You don’t go behind their back. You don’t use it like a sledgehammer to bend them to your will.”
“That wasn’t why I did it. I did it because I love you, and I wanted to help you. It was my choice.” The anger in his voice dissolved, and he touched her cheek. “Why shouldn’t I do something like this for the woman I love? Violet, I love you. You. I never thought I’d love any woman as much as I love you. You’ve turned my world upside down, and Christ, I don’t even care. I just want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
She closed her eyes. It was strange, to think of William now, but she did. He’d said similar words to her when he’d proposed. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. Marry me, Vi. They’d been so happy, until she’d ruined it. Until William had ruined it, too. Until Ash had pushed and pushed to show her the truth about William—and why? What was the point? William was dead. What could Violet do now that she knew of William’s perfidy?
She was so tempted to say yes to him that his lips touched hers in a kiss before she could find the strength to push him away. She ducked under his arm and headed to the bathroom.
Inside, she grabbed her panties and bra and decided to forgo both. Tugging on her jeans from the night before, she grimaced when she found that they were still damp. She pulled off the robe and slipped her T-shirt on, not caring that Ash watched her from the doorway. Where were her socks? Growling, she pushed past Ash and found her shoes and socks still by the front door.
“Violet—” He grabbed her arm. “Dammit, talk to me. What the hell is going on?”
“I’m leaving, that’s what’s going on.” She swore when she realized she’d left her phone in Ash’s bedroom. As he followed her from room to room, she almost laughed at this ridiculous routine of theirs.
“Goddammit, will you stop for one fucking second?” He gripped her wrist, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to keep her from leaving his bedroom. His eyes blazed. “Explain yourself.”
“You really want to do this right now? Fine. Why did you feel so compelled to find out the dirty details about my dead husband?” Her voice choked on the words, tears pricking at her eyes. “Why couldn’t you have left it alone?”
“What the hell are you talking about? I was trying to help you, and you needed to know the truth.”
“I didn’t need to know! Don’t you see? He’s dead, Ash. William is dead, and it’s my fault. If I hadn’t gotten so angry with him that night, he wouldn’t have driven off and gotten hit by a car. He would still be here. If I hadn’t been so dead set on this stupid, pointless business, he wouldn’t have done what he had. It was my fault!” She was panting at this point, tears streaking her cheeks.
Ash’s face closed. “And what about him?” he asked harshly. “He stole from you. How is that okay? He was a shitty husband to you—admit it. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together could see that.”
She shook her head. “I know that William screwed up. If he were here right now, I’d tell him so. I’m not saying he deserves to be called innocent, but that doesn’t mean he was the only one in the wrong. A marriage is two people. Two. And if anyone screwed up the most, it was me, because I brought him to that point.” She tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but they just kept coming.
“And now I almost lost Martha because I was so focused on myself. She almost died, and I don’t think I could’ve taken it if I’d lost her, too.”
“What are you saying?” rasped Ash.
“I’m saying I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this with you.” She swallowed, the lump in her throat growing. “I’m saying that this is over.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m sorry about the money, but you’re overreacting. I’ve only tried to help you. Is this how you act when people try to help you?”
“Just because your intentions were good doesn’t mean you can’t still hurt people. And I’m not going to keep hurting people with my own decisions if I can help it.”
She stepped forward, but Ash didn’t move. They gazed at each other, and Ash’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.
Reaching up, she allowed herself one last kiss. He groaned in the back of his throat when their lips touched.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she broke the kiss. “Don’t follow me.”
When Violet arrived back at the hospital, she parked her car, staring at nothing. She felt herself begin shaking, and then the tears really came, a torrent of grief. Leaning her forehead against the steering wheel, she cried until she had no more tears left.
19
Violet had never understood why people hated the rain so much. She loved it. Gazing out onto the cityscape of Seattle as the rain poured down, she felt a sense of peace for the first time in weeks.
“Violet, do you want anything from the store? I thought I’d stop by after I get coffee,” Vera called from the hallway.
Violet had come down to Seattle to stay with Vera and her family, mostly at Martha’s insistence that Violet get away from town. Martha had regained her strength within a week after being admitted to the hospital, and by the tenth day, she’d been getting crotchety at Violet’s hovering. Violet hadn’t had the courage to tell her that she couldn’t bear to go out into town in case she ran into Ash.
Violet swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. “No, I’m fine,” she answered. “I’ll start dinner while you’re gone.”
Someone yelled, and then a crash followed. More than likely Ethan had decided to play soccer in the house again.
Vera and Jim owned a pretty bungalow that was over eighty years old and located just north of downtown Seattle. Violet had been given the upstairs room. She loved that the upper level had an amazing view of the skyline and the Space Needle.
She touched a raindrop falling down the glass of the window. The thought of coffee made her think of Ash, because Lord knew everything reminded her of Ash Younger.
When she saw a playground, she wanted to cry. When she went to the Seattle Aquarium with her niece and nephew, the clown fish swimming past them made her run to the restroom to pull herself together. Sometimes she thought she heard his voice or his laugh, even here in Seattle.
She’d thought that getting away from Fair Haven would help her get over him. She’d been wrong.
If Violet didn’t imagine that she heard his voice, she dreamed of him. She saw him everywhere. It was like a ghost haunting her, yet she didn’t have the strength to banish it. There was almost something comforting about his continued presence in her life. Because once she got over Ash and moved on, then what?
Violet sniffled. Enough standing around feeling sorry for herself. She had work to do, jewelry to finish, dinner to start.
Both Jim and Vera worked as computer programmers, and they rarely had time to cook for their family. Violet, being self-employed and at loose ends, had volunteered to be the family cook while she stayed with them. It was the least she could do since Vera had told her she was “a huge idiot” for offering to pay for her room and board here.
“Aunt Violet, are you going to the store with Mom?” Isabella asked as Violet began prepping for dinner. “Oh wait, I guess not, if you’re chopping onions.”
Isabella looked exactly like Vera, while Ethan favored his father. Isabella had Vera’s dark hair and shorter stature, although sometimes Violet swore that Isabella had Violet’s smile. At eight years old, Isabella was at the age where Violet felt like she could have actual conversations with her niece. When she’d been a baby, Violet had always felt like she had no idea what to do with Isabella. You couldn’t exactly talk about different kinds of jewelry clasps or the pros and cons of plastic versus glass beads with a toddler.
“I told Mom she should get me coffee, too, but she won’t let me drink coffee,” said Isabella. “I told her that my friends drink coffee all the time because we live in Seattle.” She rolled her eyes, even as she was staring at something on the tablet Jim had given her for her birthday. “Violet, do you think I should be able to drink coffee?”
“I didn’t drink coffee at your age. I didn’t like it. It was too bitter.”
“I like it. My favorite is a cortado. They even give you a cookie when you get one at most places.”
Violet bit back a smile. She had a feeling Isabella preferred the cookie over the strong espresso drink, but she wasn’t stupid enough to say as much.
Violet began chopping carrots, letting the sound of the faint jazz music that Vera always had playing lull her until her thoughts faded away. The tactile feeling of cooking, the sound of it, the end result—all of it had been something Violet had enjoyed. She’d especially enjoyed making food for a bigger family lately.
For so long she’d just cooked for herself and William, and then jus
t herself for a while until she’d moved in with Martha. That had been the worst, only cooking for one. It was depressing to have so many leftovers that oftentimes she didn’t eat in time before they went bad.
“Aunt Violet, are you depressed?” Isabella asked suddenly. “Because my mom says you are.”
Violet froze mid-chop. “Why would your mom say that?”
“I heard her say it to my dad. Last night. She says I’m not supposed to eavesdrop on people’s conversations, but is it my fault that I hear things when I’m going to my room? If they wanted to keep it a secret, they shouldn’t have been talking so loud.”
Violet couldn’t disagree with that logic.
“Anyway, I heard my mom say that you’re sad all the time and she doesn’t know how to help you. I didn’t know that you were sad, though. You don’t look sad. Are you?”
Violet swallowed. “Am I what?”
Isabella blew out an annoyed breath. “Are you sad? Maybe you should go home. I get sad when I’m away from home for a long time.”
Violet struggled to find an answer. She hated that Vera was worried about her. When Violet had called her sister to ask if she could come stay with her, Vera had said yes without asking any questions. Violet had been grateful for that. Now, two weeks later, Violet had only talked about Martha with her sister. She hadn’t even alluded to Ash, because the topic was still too painful to broach. She also hadn’t told her about what Ash had discovered about William. It was all too painful to discuss right now.
“I do miss home,” Violet admitted as she began to chop the celery. “But I wanted to get away for a while. Besides, you like having me around, right?”
“Oh, sure, you cook way better than Mom. But I think if you’re sad, then you should figure out why. When I’m sad, I like to watch my shows. Or I listen to music. I have a playlist that I made just for when I’m sad.”
Violet laughed. “Do you? I’m impressed.”
“I’ll send it to you.” Isabella picked up her tablet, and Violet was sure that her niece had sent her her playlist, and probably her top five websites to make herself feel better. Kids these days amazed her with their ease with technology.