by Iris Morland
As the wind blew through the trees, as Ash let his mind fall silent and he just listened, he felt the heaviness on his shoulders lift for the first time in forever. His heart lightened. The love he’d discovered for Violet blossomed and unfurled until he realized that love couldn’t be a prison: love was what set you free.
“I hope you’ve found some kind of peace. Both of you.” He addressed both of his parents. He didn’t know if this was forgiveness, but it was, at least, moving on. He didn’t want the ghosts of his past to haunt him any longer. Ghosts didn’t keep your bed warm at night; ghosts couldn’t love you.
He wanted life. He wanted Violet.
God, he wanted Violet.
He didn’t know where she was right now, but he could go to Martha. He could beg her to tell him, even if she threatened to call the police on him. Ash had no pride at this point. If he could convince Violet that he truly loved her, that he wanted a life with her—it would be worth it. No matter the price.
21
Violet stared out at the shining waters of Lake Union and wondered if William was looking down at her right now. She wished she could talk to him, to ask him about everything. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but she hated that he’d betrayed her, too. It was a tangled web of emotions.
Today was the anniversary of his death. In lieu of a burial, William’s will had requested that his ashes be laid to rest on Lake Union, which sat in the middle of Seattle.
That day when she’d had to scatter William’s ashes over the water had been the hardest of Violet’s life. She hadn’t wanted to part with her husband’s ashes at all. It had been the last part of him she had. Once they were strewn across the lake, that was it. She’d have nothing of her husband left.
The wind was cold off the water, and Violet shivered. She wished she’d brought a hat and scarf, even in May. The clouds threatened rain, gray and stormy in the distance, yet Violet didn’t mind. Standing in front of a railing, with the rolling hills and industrial remnants of Gas Works Park behind her, she tried to figure out what she wanted to do.
She wanted Ash—that she knew. She wanted his arms around her, his voice telling her everything would be all right. She wanted to feel him push her onto his bed again, feel his mouth on her own. She rather desperately wished to tell him she loved him. But how could she when she’d hurt him so badly? He could’ve contacted her through social media if he’d wanted to. But he hadn’t tried since those first few days a month ago.
Violet sighed. If she couldn’t talk to Ash, she wished she could talk to William.
I just wish I could ask you why, she thought to her husband. Why did you steal money from me? Why didn’t you just tell me you needed help?
Violet had loved William wholeheartedly, and she chose to believe that their marriage had been good in the beginning. There had been love, trust, laughter. William had adored her, but somehow he’d decided to make one bad choice after another. Perhaps things had snowballed until he’d felt like he couldn’t say anything. Maybe he’d planned on repaying her.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Violet’s wedding ring winked on her finger. She twisted it off, and in a burst of anger, she was about to toss it into the lake. But something stopped her. Why couldn’t she find the strength to finally let go?
“Vera said I’d find you here.” Violet turned to see Martha walking toward her, a sad smile on her face. Martha’s cheeks were pink, and Violet thought she’d never looked better.
“What are you doing here?” asked Violet. “When did you get in?”
“What do you think I’m doing here? I’m saying hello to my son.”
Violet fell silent. She hadn’t told Martha about William’s theft, and she hadn’t planned ever to tell her. It would break Martha’s heart. She’d adored her son and had thought he’d hung the stars in the sky. As her only child, he’d been Martha’s world. Her devastation at his death had matched only Violet’s.
“You know I love you, Violet,” began Martha. A wry smile touched her lips. “But you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met besides my son. Sometimes I’d like to shake you until your teeth rattle.”
Violet blinked. “What?”
“Sweetheart, I heard everything. When your man—Ash, right?—stopped by the house. I heard him talking about what William had done. The money, all of it.”
Violet stilled, shock pulsing through her. Why hadn’t Martha said anything?
“Oh God, is that why you collapsed?” Violet clutched at the railing. “I thought you were in your bedroom. I didn’t think you could hear—”
Martha shushed her. “I heard enough. And, no, that didn’t cause me to go into ketoacidosis. Not taking my insulin was the culprit there.” Her voice was so dry that Violet had to stifle a laugh.
“Okay, but then why didn’t you mention it? It had to have been a shock.”
Martha let out a sigh. “It was, and yet it wasn’t. Let me tell you something, my dear: my son was the love of my life. But I knew that because he’d been an only child, I’d spoiled him rotten. I’d believed for so long I couldn’t have children, and then he came, my miracle baby. He’d always gotten his own way because of that. When things were good, it didn’t matter. He was happy. But when things didn’t go how he wanted them to go, well, he’d revert to the child I knew.”
Violet frowned. “Immaturity is one thing; stealing is another.”
“Of course, but I don’t think you knew that he was about to be laid off, did you?” At Violet’s wide eyes, Martha nodded. “I thought as much. You knew that his company kept moving him from job to job, of course. It got to the point that he was going to be laid off, too. He called me one night, terrified. If he lost his job, you two would lose your house. The car. Everything. The economy was so bad that he didn’t know how he’d get another job that paid as much as his old one.”
Violet digested this information, the puzzle pieces slowly clicking together. She’d known that William had been stressed over his job, but he’d never told her the extent of it.
“I don’t know this for certain,” said Martha, “but I have a feeling William was taking money from you to pay your bills, along with fancier things. Like that vacation you two went on in Miami. Things like that. He didn’t want to let on how bad things were.”
“Why didn’t he just tell me? Or ask? I don’t get it. I wouldn’t have told him no. He was my husband.”
Martha sighed. “I agree, and I would’ve told him as much. But pride has a way of making us do stupid things. He probably didn’t want to worry you, either.”
Right then, Violet wished she could shake her former husband until his teeth rattled. Everything Martha was saying made sense. The only consolation was that William had stolen money to take care of her, instead of using it on God knows what.
Stealing my money to pay for my things. Oh, William, you idiot.
“Like I said: he was childish,” said Martha. “I knew that when you married him. I’d hoped that marriage would make him less childish, and I think it would have. Eventually.”
After a beat of silence, Martha added, “He loved you, Violet. I know he did. He showed it in a stupid way, but he wanted to be a good husband to you.”
“I know he did.” Gazing out onto the water, Violet let the anger, the bitterness, all of it, fade away. She let it go like she’d scattered William’s ashes two years ago. “I forgive him. Because if I don’t, I can never move forward.”
“I forgive him, too.” Martha’s lips quirked upward. “I also wanted to tell you that your young man came by yesterday. He wanted to talk to you. I told him I had to ask you first.”
Violet’s breath caught. “Ash came to see you? How did he look? What did he say?”
“He looked terrible, although still handsome, of course. He was none too happy with me when I told him that I wasn’t going to tell him where you were. If I weren’t an old lady, he probably would’ve decked me.”
Violet trembled. She couldn’t believe
it: Ash wanted to see her. Was it because he still loved her, or did he just want to tell her how much she’d hurt him?
“What if things go south like my first marriage?” whispered Violet. “I don’t think I could bear it.”
“Why should it? Ash isn’t William. He loves you, my dear. Don’t let the past hold you back. It’s never worth it.”
Violet let excitement bubble inside her for the first time in a while. Ash hadn’t forgotten about her. Not only that, but he wanted to see her. Does he still love me? It was a thought she hadn’t let herself consider. She wouldn’t blame him if he’d moved on, but if he hadn’t? If there was even a slight chance…
“I love him,” blurted Violet. “I love him so much that it hurts. I just don’t know how I can get him back. I was awful to him. I pushed him away.”
“Honey, that young man is completely in love with you. I saw it on his face when he was at the hospital with you. No man shows up in the middle of the night for a woman he doesn’t care about. Believe me. He looked like he’d move heaven and earth just to make you happy.”
“That was before, though.” Violet explained to Martha about Ash taking out a loan to pay off her debt and how angry she had been. “I threw it back into his face. He told me he loved me, and I didn’t say it back. It was terrible.”
Martha clucked her tongue. “Sounds like you both have some explaining and apologizing to do. You’re both stubborn and have way too much pride between the two of you, but that’s what’ll keep things interesting. God knows Harold and I had enough spats and arguments to last a lifetime, but we loved each other. That was all that mattered.”
Suddenly, Violet wondered why the hell she was still standing here. She needed to find Ash; she needed to explain, tell him that she was an idiot. That she loved him. God, how she loved him. When she’d seen him at his niece’s birthday party, she’d known right then that he was something special. But she’d been too heartsore and scared to admit it.
Violet’s wedding ring seemed to glare up at her, mocking her. Before she could think about it, she plucked the ring off her finger and tossed it into the lake. It landed in the water with a satisfying plunk.
And in that moment, Violet was freed of the past.
“Well, that was unexpected,” said Martha.
Violet laughed, tilting her head up. “I loved you, William,” she said into the sky. “A part of me will always love you, but I want to move on with my life.”
Martha added, “I miss you, son, every day. I’m angry with you, too, but I’ll get over it. I can’t wait to see you again and give you a stern talking-to.” She dabbed at her eyes, sniffling.
Violet and Martha stayed until Violet was pretty sure her nose was going to fall off from the cold. Martha told her that she was staying at a friend’s house for a couple of days, and so they parted ways when they returned to their cars, hugging and crying only a little.
Her heart light, Violet drove straight to Vera’s and began to pack. When Vera saw Violet pulling her suitcase from the closet, she just hugged Violet and told her good luck.
“He’s a lucky man. And if he hurts you, I’ll kill him,” said Vera.
Violet laughed, zipped up her suitcase, and headed back to Fair Haven—and to Ash.
22
Ash slammed his fist against the wall of his apartment, the sound ridiculously satisfying. After three days of trying to discover where Violet had gone, he’d gotten nothing. Nothing! He’d gone to Martha’s, only to have the woman basically kick him out of her house.
“If she doesn’t want you to know, then I’m not going to tell you,” Martha had said. “It’s as simple as that.”
Ash had cajoled; he’d begged; he’d been close to threatening a woman when Martha had looked at him like the lowliest of worms. He’d left, tail between his legs, cursing everyone and everything.
Violet had a sister in Seattle, but what good was that information? He couldn’t very well go down to the city and knock on the door of every apartment, house, condo, or yacht he encountered. No matter how much he was tempted to do just that.
“Goddammit, Violet,” he muttered, rubbing his aching knuckles. “Where the hell did you go?”
She’d still had his number blocked, his calls going to voicemail and his texts unanswered.
Ash realized that there could very well be a good reason why he couldn’t get a hold of Violet: she just didn’t want to see him again.
His gut twisted. If he’d truly fucked everything up, if he’d lost the one woman he’d ever loved, he’d never forgive himself. He didn’t even need her to forgive him: he just wanted to apologize, to explain. To tell her that he loved her one last time.
Growling, he grabbed his keys and headed out for a walk. He couldn’t stay in his apartment for one second longer, mostly because it just reminded him of Violet. He remembered how he’d kissed her right inside his front door that first time, how he’d led her to his bedroom. How she’d looked in his oversized robe, her blond hair falling down to her shoulders.
Ash didn’t have a destination in mind. Since it was Saturday, he didn’t need to go into work, not to mention he didn’t need Trent hovering. He considered going over to Thea’s but then dismissed the idea. He didn’t want any of his siblings asking him questions right now. He wasn’t in the mood.
When he arrived at the playground, he wasn’t surprised. He laughed softly, remembering how he and Violet had swung on the swings that night. Had it really only been less than two months ago? It didn’t seem possible. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
The day was overcast but warm, and the playground was filled with parents and children. Kids screamed as they went down the slides, while another group played tag on the grass. All of the swings were occupied, and Ash watched the kids swing back and forth until the image was practically imprinted onto his eyelids.
He sat down on a bench and watched the kids playing. It was inevitable that his mind strayed to thoughts of his own possible children someday. He swallowed against the lump in his throat. Violet would make an amazing mother. Would their kids be more blond like her or more redheaded like him? Would they be good with numbers or better with intricate tasks like jewelry-making? One thing he did know was that any children they might have would be a handful. Two stubborn parents together equaled kids that would probably terrify anyone else.
“Ash? Is that you?”
Ash looked up to see a woman with short dark hair approaching him. It took him a moment to recognize his ex-girlfriend Kayla. She’d cut her hair since last he’d seen her, not to mention she had a little boy with her who was probably no more than five or six years old.
“Kayla, hi,” he said. He stood and held out his hand to the boy. “What’s your name?” he asked the boy.
“Ash, this is my nephew, Adam,” said Kayla.
Adam narrowed his eyes, like he could see into Ash’s soul, before extending his small hand. Ash shook it and had to work hard to restrain a chuckle.
“Adam, why don’t you go play while I talk with Ash?” Kayla suggested, and without any protest, Adam ran onto the playground and quickly joined a group of kids making sandcastles nearby.
“It’s been a while,” she said. “How are you?”
Ash was surprised she even wanted to speak to him. They hadn’t exactly parted on great terms. She’d been so hurt when he’d tried to make decisions for her, not to mention those texts she’d sent him. He grimaced inwardly.
“I’m fine. You?” he said.
Kayla smiled. “I’m good. I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to apologize for what I texted you. You were right: I did need to get things together. You got me that job and a place to live, but at the time, I didn’t want to hear it.”
“I should’ve asked you first,” he admitted. “I realize that now. You had every right to be upset. Just because I might have been correct doesn’t mean I couldn’t have gone about it differently.”
“Oh, I agree.” At his laugh, Kayla added, “You can be…
a lot sometimes.” Her eyes sparkled, and Ash wasn’t stupid enough not to see the interest in her eyes.
They talked for a little while longer before Adam came back, telling his aunt that he was hungry. Kayla stood on her tiptoes and gave Ash a kiss on the cheek as she departed, and he couldn’t help but give her a brief hug.
As he waved goodbye to Kayla, he heard someone take in a choked breath behind him. Turning, his eyes widened.
It was Violet. And she’d just seen him embracing another woman.
Violet froze, her excitement fading to horror in a moment’s time. Ash looked just as startled, and they stared at each other like two deer in headlights for what felt like an eternity.
I told myself he probably had moved on. I can’t blame him if he did.
You don’t know the whole story. Don’t jump to conclusions.
I think I’m going to vomit.
Suddenly it felt like everyone was staring at her, mocking her, telling her what a fool she had been to think that he’d loved her enough to want her back after what she’d done. Martha had been mistaken. Ash probably had wanted to talk to her so he could tell her that he’d somehow reversed the loan. Or he wanted to tell her how angry he was with her. Not that he still loved her.
“Um, I’m sorry,” she whispered, her face on fire. “I should go. I should definitely go.”
She was about to turn to go when Ash caught her by her arm. She blinked up at him.
“Don’t,” he urged. “It’s not what you think. At all. We’re just friends.”
Violet almost didn’t hear Ash through the pounding of her heart. Friends. Friends. Friends.
“Friends that kiss you on the cheek?” she asked.
Ash growled. “She’s my ex-girlfriend. We haven’t seen each other in ages.” He grasped Violet by her upper arms, his gaze steely. “She’s nothing. Violet, I’ve missed you so much. You—you are everything.”