Face the Music

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Face the Music Page 27

by Salsbury, JB


  “Ben…” I want to ask why, but I have a feeling I already know.

  He drops his head. “I had to.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  He whips around, his fierce glare making me gasp. He has a loose control of his anger and I get the sense I need to tread lightly.

  “He. Hurt. You.” Ben’s gaze darts to my chest. “I had to hurt him back.”

  I deflate at the broken sound of his voice. “Bethany.”

  “Yes. Bethany.” He takes a couple steps forward, ignoring the two bouncers who close in around us. “Because you don’t tell me anything.”

  “What else did she tell you?” She wouldn’t… would she?

  He recoils. “Oh fuck, there’s more?” He shoves his hands into his hair.

  “Ben, we need to talk—”

  “Now you want to talk?” He chuckles, but the sound is dark and full of anger.

  I shake my head. “That’s not fair.”

  “Not fair? You want to talk about what’s not fair?” He’s yelling now. “Having my wife die the same minute my daughter is born, Ashleigh, that’s not fair! Having to put on a big fucking fake smile at every one of her birthdays, pretending I’m not mourning the death of the woman I vowed to love forever, that’s not fucking fair. Facing her death over and over and over again every single day Elliot smiles like her, or laughs like her, and every time I look in her eyes and see Maggie, that’s not fucking fair.”

  My heart shreds with every word.

  “But I do it. Every day. Because what choice do I have? What choice do I have other than to move through life half dead and suffocating?”

  “Ben—”

  “Then you come along and it’s like I can breathe again. At first it was just minutes. You’d be around and I wouldn’t think about all I lost. You’d be over, in my house, and hours would go by and I wouldn’t miss her. Then days.” His eyes shine with tears. “I opened my fucking soul to you. I held my heart in my hands and offered it to you, broken and battered and so demolished, but I gave it all to you. And you…” He shakes his head. “You give me nothing. Your walls are firmly in place while I’m bleeding out at your feet.” His tortured eyes meet mine. “How fucking fair is that?”

  I bite lips to avoid him seeing them quiver.

  And I say nothing.

  Because Ben is right.

  But I don’t know how to fix it.

  Ben

  Ashleigh’s trying hard not to cry. Her face is a mask of indifference, her eyes the only tell that she’s feeling anything at all. Even now, after everything I’ve told her, baring my soul here in the back alley where we shared our first kiss, she’s still holding herself back from me.

  I turn to the bouncers. “What do you need from me? I’d like to get this over with so I can get home to my daughter.”

  “Cops are over there talking to Anthony and witnesses now,” the bigger of the two says.

  The bouncer’s eyes linger on Ashleigh at the far end of the alley, making me wonder if they have history outside of their professional friendship. Not that it matters anymore. She’s made it clear that, even now, she’s not opening her heart to me. And there’s one thing I know—I can’t hold together a relationship between us on my own.

  “I’m sure Anthony will want to press charges,” the big guy says.

  I don’t respond because I expected no less. It’s what I deserve. I knew, after I got off the phone with Bethany and she told me what that fucker did, that I was willing to get arrested to get one punch in. Lucky me, I got two and a half.

  I lean against the brick wall and slide down to my ass, bracing my arms on my knees as my adrenaline crashes. The door slams behind her.

  The big guy sighs then looks at me. “You all right?”

  “Fine.”

  He nods, crosses his arms, and frowns. “Thank you.”

  “For?”

  “Knocking that fucker out.” He shakes his head. “I hate that guy.”

  I study him and the way he looks after the closed door Ashleigh disappeared behind. “You like her.” Join the club.

  “What’s not to like?” He looks at me. “But I tried a little too late. She wanted nothing to do with me. Now I know why.”

  “Why?”

  He chuckles. “You can’t be that stupid, man.”

  What the hell is he talking about? “Let’s pretend I am.”

  “She’s in love with you.”

  I blink, absorbing his words and rearranging them in my head, thinking clearly I misheard. “Excuse me?”

  “If the way she looks at you doesn’t give it away, then you must be dumber than I thought.”

  “I don’t see it.”

  “Good. Maybe you’ll fuck things up, she’ll dump you, and I’ll get my chance.” He grins. “Just keep ignoring the obvious.”

  I glare. “Obvious? She’s less than forthcoming.”

  “You think she’s been banging Anthony behind your back? Is that what all that was in there? Because you’re wrong. She doesn’t like him either.”

  She liked him enough to sleep with him. Hard to look at the scumbag knowing he’s shared something with Ashleigh that I can’t.

  “She’s in love with you. You’re clearly hung up on her. So what the fuck is the problem?”

  She won’t open up to me! I know nearly nothing about her! She keeps secrets and takes risks with her safety and I can’t lose her because I… because…

  Because why?

  * * *

  “Mr. Langley, you’re being issued a citation for misdemeanor assault and battery.” Officer Harold, who came to take our report, tucks his little pad of paper back into his pocket. All this I see in my peripheral as I glare at Anthony and Ashleigh as they have a heated conversation a few yards away.

  “What does that mean?” I ask.

  “You’ll need to show up in court, enter your plea, and the judge will mostly likely issue a fine.” His eyes narrow. “Ms. Kendrick seems intent on pleading your case. Said Mr. Norman provoked you.”

  “I told you what happened.” The truth. “He didn’t see me coming.”

  The cop steps close. “Between us? I’ve spent twenty minutes with the guy and he’s an arrogant prick. Probably deserved it, but I’m bound by the law. We can’t just go around punching assholes.”

  I nod, because he’s right. I still can’t find it in myself to regret it.

  It’s close to two in the morning, and I’m still standing in the back alley, waiting to get this over with. Anthony’s holding an icepack to his face, but he’s waving his arm around animatedly and steps closer to Ash, making my muscles jerk.

  I nod toward Anthony and Ash. “You mind telling him to back off her?”

  Officer Harold turns around. “Mr. Norman!”

  Anthony’s head jerks to face us.

  “We’re done with you,” he says. “Go home or I’ll cite you for… something.”

  Anthony stomps back into the club.

  “Let me get your paperwork and get you out of here,” Officer Harold says to me before walking away.

  “Thank you.” I watch him go, then I meet Ashleigh’s eyes. When I do, her feet carry her closer. I stare at her for a few seconds, noting her red eyes, pale cheeks, and drawn expression. “You two seemed to have a lot to say to each other?”

  “I tried to get him to take responsibility.”

  I chuckle humorlessly. “More lies.”

  “Excuse me for trying to convince him not to press charges.”

  I push off the wall. “Please, don’t lie for me. I don’t need you to save me. I know what I did and I’d do it again.”

  “Listen, Ben—”

  “Not tonight.” I don’t have the energy to say all that needs to be said. “I have to get home.”

  She steps aside with a sad nod.

  I move by her and stop, my mouth opening to say something. Good night seems too informal. Goodbye too permanent. I’m sorry is a lie.

  Settling for silence, I head to
my car and give up on trying to sort out my fumbled thoughts. My life may have been quiet and depressing without Ashleigh in it, but it was manageable.

  My life with her in it may drive me insane.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ashleigh

  On Sunday morning, I watched the sun come up from the steps of Grace Church. After Ben left the club this morning, I sat down with my manager and told him what Anthony had done the night before. I told him I couldn’t work with Anthony, then I walked straight out of the club, drove home, and cracked open a fresh bottle of vodka. My plan was to drink as much as it would take for my chest to stop aching.

  Turns out, a bottle wasn’t nearly enough.

  Instead, I rehearsed all the things I needed to say to Ben. The vodka decided these things need to be said immediately.

  Which brings me to now, the sun rising over the distant mountains, my hair wrapped into a messy top knot, ripped jeans, crop top, flip-flops, and makeup from last night. I sip my overpriced coffee, but it does little to clear the vodka fog.

  I contemplate going to my car to sleep it off, then I remember that I didn’t drive here. I took an Uber. Thank God. I’m thinking more clearly than I give myself credit for.

  I perk up as the first car pulls into the lot, then slump when I realize it’s not Ben’s Jeep. I check my phone to see if he tried to call me. After all, I did call him multiple times between taking swigs of booze.

  “Ashleigh?” Kathy’s snarky tone is tinged with disappointment. “What are you doing here?”

  I look up at her.

  Whatever she sees morphs her disappointment into something similar to satisfaction. “Oh wow, you look awful.”

  “Good. I feel awful.”

  Her lips curl as she studies my clothes, my hair and face. “You can’t greet the congregation looking like that.”

  I squint at her. “Well no shit. I’m not here to greet.” I push to stand, stumbling a little as gravity shoves me around.

  Her little nose wiggles as she sniffs once, then twice. “Are you… drunk?”

  I smirk. “Jealous?”

  “You should go. Before anyone sees you.” The way she looks around as if trying to hide from the po-po, I think she’s more afraid someone might see her talking to me.

  “All right, good idea. I should go, but um…” I watch her form get wavy, split into two, and rejoin into one. I squint to keep her together. “Can you let me inside so I can use the bathroom?”

  She seems to think letting me in would be a better idea than leaving me out here to tarnish the doorway and the church’s reputation. Dumbass.

  I head inside and straight to the bathroom. I squint against the florescent lights. Passing the mirrors, I get a glimpse of my reflection. “Not your finest hour, Ash.”

  I see my lips moving, hear my voice, but I don’t feel anything like me. I blame it on the booze and do my business, then wash my hands and stare at the running eyeliner and mascara around my eyes. I should’ve probably cleaned up before I came here, but it’s better for Ben to see me, the real me, when he hears what I have to say.

  Having killed what feels like hours in the bathroom, I push out and am surprised I don’t see Kathy waiting to escort me out the back door to a waiting cab. I tiptoe through the anteroom to the offices, irritated that my flip-flops slap against the tile regardless of my walking on my toes. Ben’s office doesn’t have a lock, so I’m able to slip easily inside, keeping the lights off.

  The room smells like an old library mixed with Ben’s cologne. The sun shines through the barely slit curtains, and I drop heavily onto the couch. If my mind weren’t moving so quickly, I’d probably fall asleep. I count the slow ticks from the wall clock and hear the murmur of voices on the other side of the wall. People have started showing up for church.

  I feel him before I see him. My body registers his presence on a spiritual level, my skin breaking out in goose bumps as his familiar footsteps draw closer. My heart pounds and my throat swells with emotion.

  He doesn’t see me at first, but when he flips on the light, his eyes come directly to me and he freezes. Other than the shadows beneath his eyes, I’d never guess he was the same man who was crazed and leaping over the bar last night. His button-up shirt is crisp and ironed. He’s freshly shaven, his hair perfectly styled. He looks clean. The complete opposite of how I feel.

  “What are you doing here?”

  My gaze snaps from his neatly styled hair to his narrowed eyes. “I tried calling you.”

  He tilts his head, studies me for the briefest of moments, and not a single emotion registers in his eyes. “I know.”

  “Ouch.” I laugh rather than cry. Thank you, vodka.

  Silence stretches between us.

  “Right, so…” I try to pull up my rehearsed speech, but the words blur and recede from my mind. “I, uh…” I blow out a breath and decide to save face and run like hell. Pushing to my feet, I stare at the floor. “I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.”

  I hear the click of the door and look up as Ben turns from shutting his door. He comes toward me, but he stops too far away and crosses his arms.

  My pulse picks up speed. “We don’t have to do this now.”

  “I think it’s best we get it over with.”

  “You’re mad at me, I get that.”

  “I’m not mad at you,” he says in a flat voice. “I just realized I don’t really know you.”

  I lick my lips, wishing I had a glass of water or a piece of gum. “Would you believe it if I told you that you know more than most men I’ve dated?”

  “More than Anthony?”

  I feel the blood drain from my face.

  He studies the carpet then shakes his head. “That’s what I thought.”

  An unreasonable surge of anger washes over me. “What do you want from me, huh? You want to run a background check? Blood sample?”

  His eyes dart to mine and flicker with anger. “All I wanted was you.”

  “And I gave you what I have to give!”

  “It’s not enough!” He steps forward then reels himself back. “I wanted it all. An even trade!”

  I’m already shaking my head, tears springing to my eyes. “I can’t give you that.”

  “All right.” He nods. “Then we’re done here.”

  “Why can’t you just be with me and respect the fact that there are some things…” A sob works its way up my throat, and tears drip down my cheeks.

  “Ash.” He puts his hands on my shoulders. My shoulders. “Don’t cry. There are things you can’t share with me, and that’s your choice. I get it. But you have to understand I can’t do a casual relationship, and I can’t do any kind of relationship with only half of you. If I’m going to invest all of me, I need you to invest all of you too. Complete transparency is the only way this relationship will work.”

  “That’s the problem.” I look up at him and feel physically embraced by the compassion in his eyes. “If I don’t tell you, I lose you. But if I do tell you? I’ll lose you.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Oh, but I do. I lift the hem of my shirt to wipe my cheeks, and he drops his hands from my shoulders. The way I see it, I could walk out of this room and Ben will always see me as the Ashleigh he once dated, the one who wasn’t able to give him what he needed. I can live with that. But if I tell him, I’ll walk out of here having lost not only him, but also his respect.

  A price I’m not willing to pay.

  Either way, I end up without him.

  I stand and cup his jaw, grateful when he doesn’t pull away. He leans into my touch ever so slightly.

  “You’re a great man, Ben Langley.” I step closer and push up on my toes.

  He must feel what’s coming because he bends and allows me this one kiss. I close my eyes, feeling a fresh onslaught of tears push through my lashes. His lips, so soft against mine, say goodbye, but his hands slide around my waist and hold me close. I brush my mouth against his once more, then press my
self to his chest.

  “Thank you for making me feel…” Important. Worthy. I swallow hard. “Clean.”

  He presses his mouth to my hair, breathing in.

  I disengage from his hold before it’s too late and I change my mind. “Bye, Ben.”

  “Goodbye, Ashleigh.”

  Ashleigh.

  Not Ash.

  With my head down, I leave his office before I burst into uncontrollable tears. I can’t believe I’m walking away from the one man I ever thought I might love.

  Better to leave than be left behind.

  Ben

  I don’t know how long I stand in the place where I kissed Ashleigh goodbye. Couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes, but soon there’s a knock at my door that snaps me out of my head. When I turn to see Kathy peeking in through the cracked door, reality crashes over me.

  Ashleigh’s gone.

  When given the choice to open up to me or to walk away, she chose to walk away. And I have to accept that. I have to honor that.

  Don’t I?

  “Pastor Langley.” Kathy’s eyes skitter about the room as if she’s looking for Ashleigh. “A Mr. Gunthry is here to see you.”

  He’s right on time.

  I turn back toward the couch where she was when I walked in, her eyes glazed over from what I assume was alcohol, judging by the taste on her lips. How can she be so upset over something she’s choosing?

  “I’ll be right there.” I don’t hear the door close, so I turn to find Kathy has stepped into my office. “Is there something else?”

  She worries her hands together. “I hate to be obnoxious about the subject, but I’m going to strongly urge you to get rid of Ashleigh Kendrick. She showed up intoxicated this morning.”

  I nod. “You don’t need to worry about Ms. Kendrick anymore. We won’t be seeing her again.” The thought of her absence makes the empty hole in my chest throb.

  “I think that’s for the best.” Kathy sounds a little too happy about Ashleigh’s leaving.

  If only I felt the same. Instead, I’m riddled with a million ways I could’ve responded to her secrecy other than pushing her away.

 

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