Blurring the Lines

by Kirsty Moseley

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up on end. “I try to make you happy, I try to help you, I try to stop you hurting so badly that the only release is for you to kill yourself through exercise. I try, but I’m just not good enough,” he stated, looking at me apologetically.

  Disbelief almost made me gawk at him. He honestly thought he wasn’t good enough to stop me hurting? I sat up, shocked, and looked at him in disbelief. How could this boy, who had saved my life and made me live again, possibly think that he wasn’t good enough?

  “Ashton, seriously, what the hell are you talking about? Not good enough? Are you crazy? If it wasn’t for you, I would be hiding in one of the bedrooms in the White House, expelled from yet another school, screaming myself awake every night, afraid to let anyone near me, wearing baggy clothes, and drawing pictures which, quite frankly, scare the shit out of me. I didn’t have a life before you, I had an existence, and I didn’t even want that,” I admitted, blurting out more of my feelings than I had ever done before.

  His hand closed over mine as I unconsciously started pinching the skin on the inside of my elbow. “But you still won’t talk to me, Anna. You’d still rather come down here and make your whole body hurt, rather than talking through your feelings with me,” he explained, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand.

  “I don’t want to scare you away,” I admitted, looking away from him.

  “You won’t scare me away. Please talk to me. Nothing you could do or say would make me leave you,” he vowed, putting a finger under my chin and making me look at him.

  I gulped. Does that mean forever, or for the next three months? We just sat there looking at each other for a couple of minutes. His eyes were narrowed in a silent plea for me to open up to him, to finally let him in once and for all. The trouble was I didn’t want to do that. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, it was more that I knew that if he knew even half of the stuff that went through my head, he’d finally know how fucked up I was and he’d run for the hills. But the soft, tender, pleading look to his eyes told me that he wasn’t ever going to think badly of me, or judge me, or think I was a bitch or coward.

  I sighed and decided to take a chance for once in my life. Ashton was worth taking a chance on. “What do you want to know?”

  His shoulders seemed to relax as a dazzling smile crept onto his face. For some reason, he looked extremely proud of me. “What college were you and Jack planning on going to?” he asked.

  I smiled. That one was easy. “We wanted different ones. He wanted to be a doctor, so he wanted Harvard, and I wanted MSU,” I answered, shrugging.

  His eyes widened with apparent surprise. “You would have gone to separate schools?”

  I smiled sadly. “Yeah, we were very confident that nothing could break us up. Neither of us saw Carter coming,” I said grimly.

  His expression hardened in an instant. “You were with Carter for ten months?” The way he said Carter’s name was almost a growl.

  “Yeah, just over. I banged my head and passed out at the club, and woke up in his house in Miami,” I replied, frowning, trying not to think about it too much.

  His hand slid to my elbow. “This self-harming thing that you do, I’ve read about it. People that self-harm sometimes feel that they lack control in their lives. Is that why you hurt yourself?”

  I blew out a big breath and turned my arm over, seeing the numerous little white scars that lined the inside of my forearm and the red patch at my elbow where I was pinching myself earlier. “Kind of. I don’t actually know why I do it. It’s like an outlet for pain sometimes is the only way I can describe it to you. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed that I can’t cope and doing that can sometimes help me focus or can clear my mind. I don’t know why I do it. I don’t do it often anymore,” I answered. That was the truth. I’d only done it a few times since Ashton had been with me.

  Ashton was watching me, absorbing everything I was saying with a thoughtful look on his face. “I don’t like you hurting yourself.”

  I swallowed noisily. “I know.”

  “I can be your outlet. If you just talk to me, maybe I can help you clear your mind from now on,” he suggested hopefully. Unable to answer, I set my head on his shoulder and nodded. I knew there would always be times in my life that I would do it, I couldn’t promise it would never happen again, but I would try

  His hand slid down my arm, over the bumpy scars that had gone white over time and settled on my wrist as his thumb traced the biggest, jagged scar across my wrist. “You tried to kill yourself the first time by slitting your wrists.” It wasn’t actually a question and I realised that he was prompting me to talk about the more difficult things that had happened.

  I didn’t raise my head from his shoulder as I answered. “Actually, that was the second time. I tried to jump from the balcony at the club when they threw Jack off, but Carter stopped me. He said it was a waste,” I admitted, swallowing the lump in my throat. That was the first time I had told anyone that, ever.

  His angry silence filled the room for a few seconds before he spoke again. “You tried to kill yourself two other times, on your birthday.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I took some pills.” Please don’t leave me after this, Ashton!

  He took a deep breath, seeming to choose his next words carefully. “You actually wanted to die? You told me when I first started that you had nothing left to lose and that you wanted to die because you had nothing to live for,” he winced, as if the memory hurt him.

  I nodded. “Yeah, I wanted to die. I remember waking up after each time I’d tried to kill myself and feeling so disappointed that I was alive. I thought I was being punished for what I did to Jack,” I admitted.

  He gasped. “Punished? You thought living was punishment?”

  “I guess.” I shrugged. “Every time I tried to kill myself it never worked, I thought that someone wanted me to suffer, to feel the pain every day. Death would have been easier than going through that. The pain, the grief, it killed me inside,” I explained.

  He held my hand tightly in his. His eyes were concerned as he tilted his head so I had to look at him. “Your birthday’s coming up,” he whispered.

  I nodded and smiled reassuringly. “I won’t do it again, I promise.” I didn’t want to die anymore. I wanted to live my life. I wanted the day when Ashton would want to settle down and have a girlfriend; I wanted the one day that he might look at me and fall in love with me.

  “You won’t?” His voice was pleading and hopeful.

  I smiled. “No, Ashton, I won’t,” I confirmed, looking into his beautiful green eyes. His whole face relaxed as relief washed over it, he blew out a sharp breath as if he had been holding it a long time.

  “Why not?”

  Because I’m in love with you. Because I love my life with you in it. Because a world where someone as special as you lives, can’t be the horrible place I once thought it was.

  All of those answers ran through my head at the same time. But what I actually said was, “Because you gave me my life back.”

  His lips parted as a muscle in his eye twitched. I pushed myself up from the floor. He didn’t move.

  I held down a hand to him. “Come on, Pretty Boy; let’s go get some food, all that exercise has made me hungry,” I laughed uncomfortably. I’d never openly had a conversation with anyone like that before, my therapist had always tried to get me to talk, but I either made bitchy comments or lied.

  “Why did you tell me all of that?”

  I looked up at his stunned face and shrugged. “Because I trust you, and I could see it was important to you that I opened up.”

  He stood up and a grin stretched across his face. I knew there and then that he wasn’t running anywhere, not yet, at least. “Thank you,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.

  “No. Thank you,” I whispered gratefully.

  A couple of hours later, our hire car rolled into the cemetery parking lot. Ashton’s hand was tight in
mine as we walked through the graveyard. As per my usual routine, I stooped and picked up any dandelions that I came across on the way. About ten feet away from his grave, I stopped and looked at Ashton. “Do you think maybe I could be on my own for a bit? I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

  He sighed deeply, shaking his head. “Anna, I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  I stepped up and put my arms around his waist, setting my head on his shoulder. “Please?”

  “Anna, I can’t,” he whined.

  “Please, Ashton?” I begged, trying not to cry. I needed to talk to Jack about everything that had happened and beg for his forgiveness. I couldn’t do that with Ashton watching over me and listening.

  His arms tightened around me as he groaned in defeat. “I can move a bit further away, I guess,” he conceded, pulling back and looking down at me with a suddenly stern expression. “You do not move from this spot. I’ll still be able to see you, if anyone approaches you, anyone, you get up and you run as fast as you can to my side, understand?” A muscle in his jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed in warning. From his expression, I could see it was hurting him to do this.

  I nodded and smiled gratefully, watching as he closed his eyes for a second or two and then let his arms drop from my side before he stalked off to a tree that was about fifty yards from Jack’s grave. He pulled his gun from the leg of his pants and stood perfectly still, scanning the area over and over. A little chuckle escaped my lips because he took his job so seriously. It was terribly cute.

  Getting back to the matter in hand, I turned back to Jack’s marble headstone and sprinkled my dandelions over the top before setting my lilies down next to the fresh flowers and the unopened birthday card that had his mother’s handwriting on the front. I sat on the grass and pushed my hand into my sweater pocket, pulling out the card that I had made for Jack. I’d drawn it myself. It was him playing football and it was from the last game that he played. He’d just scored the winning touchdown and had kissed his hand and thrown it to me. It was sweet, a typical Jack moment, and one of the many happy memories I had of him. It had taken me a long time to draw the card. It was harder than I thought, but I’d gotten through it. In almost four years, this was the first picture I had ever drawn of him that wasn’t of that night or him covered in blood.

  I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Hi. Happy birthday,” I whispered. “You would have been twenty today. No longer a teenager. I don’t know what we would have done for your birthday, maybe a party or something. Tomorrow my dad will be the President so, to be honest, we probably could have done anything that you wanted in the world,” I smiled weakly. “My life is pretty crazy right now; I have a lot of stuff going on. I’m not sure if you can see me from where you are or if you know what I’m thinking or how I’m feeling, but I have some things I need to talk to you about.” This was even harder than I thought it would be.

  “I, er, have someone in my life that I didn’t expect to ever have. His name’s Ashton Taylor. I brought him with me when I came here last time.” I glanced up to see Ashton shifting from one foot to the other, nervously scanning the area. “He’s right over there. He’s a little crazy. Look at him, waiting for someone to hurt me in the middle of an empty cemetery.” I shook my head at his overprotective nature.

  “Anyway, he’s a really good guy, Jack. We’ve become close. He’s the only one I can be myself with, I trust him and… I’m so sorry, but I’ve fallen in love with him.” Tears pooled in my eyes. “I never meant for it to happen, I swear. He just kind of snuck behind my defences and wormed his way in.” I never stood a chance against his charm really. I thought back to the first time that I’d walked into my father’s office and saw him. I thought then he was the most beautiful boy in the world, and I had shaken his hand.

  I sighed sadly. “Everyone’s always telling me that you would want me to be happy. They say that you wouldn’t want me to go through life on my own and that you would want me to move on. I’m praying that it’s true, because he makes me so happy. I feel incredibly guilty about it. I don’t think I should be allowed to be happy if you can’t be,” I frowned. “But I know that if I’d died, I couldn’t bear the thought of you being unhappy, and I would want someone else to make you happy,” I said honestly. I wouldn’t want him to suffer; I’d just never been able to apply the same concept to myself.

  “I will always love you, Jack, always. And I’ll never forgive myself for what happened to you.” If I hadn’t suggested we went out to the club that night, if I hadn’t worn that short dress, if I’d just gotten some help, then he would still be here. “I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t have happened to you. You were such a good guy and had everything going for you, and you would have been a brilliant doctor.” Jack had been terrific at whatever he put his mind to. “It should have been me who died that night, not you. I wish I could take it back and change it around, but I can’t.” A tear fell down my cheek so I wiped it away quickly. “I really hope that you can forgive me, even though I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

  I glanced over at Ashton again, seeing that he was watching an old couple who were sitting at a grave about a hundred yards away from me. He was glaring at them murderously as if he would shoot them if they made one move in my direction. I smiled weakly, knowing that I’d put him through enough. I’d said my piece, hopefully now that it was off my chest, some of the guilt would fade over time.

  “I’d better go. Ashton’s going to have a heart attack if I stay away from him for much longer.” I pushed myself up to standing and brushed the grass off of the rear of my jeans. I smiled at Ashton and waved him over. Relief washed over his face as he jogged towards me. Kissing my fingertips, I traced the letters of Jack’s name. “G’bye. I’ll come back soon and see you. Sleep tight.”

  Ashton stopped at my side and smiled down at me sympathetically as he touched the small of my back. “Okay?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I’m ready to go.” I took one last look down at the gravestone as I slipped my hand into Ashton’s. “Bye, Jack.”

  As we walked back towards the parking lot, I nodded down at the gun that was still gripped in Ashton’s other hand. “You can put that away now, Pretty Boy, that old couple aren’t here to kill me,” I joked.

  He laughed sheepishly. “Well you never know, those wrinkles could have been a disguise,” he teased, as he stopped and pushed his gun back into his ankle holster. I rolled my eyes at him. “So, are you okay?” he asked, squeezing my hand tightly.

  I nodded. “Actually, I am. Thank you for letting me have some time, I really appreciate it. I know that was hard for you.”

  He sighed. “Yeah, I don’t like to not be able to do things for you, but I can’t do that again, especially with your dad being sworn in to office tomorrow. I need to be close to you out in the open like this. We’ve already lost the far guard for the day; I can’t push the boundaries too far.”

  I blew out a big breath, resisting the urge to make a sarcastic comment about him being an overprotective control freak just like my father. I hated the whole guard situation, but I’d never really had a say in it. “Come on, we have a few hours before we have to be at the airport, why don’t we go down to the lake or something,” I suggested, changing the subject. I’d love to go back there, where I’d first started getting to know him. It seemed weird that it was just over four months ago that he’d waltzed into my life, blown everything up in the air and made me re-evaluate the way I lived my life.

  Ashton nodded enthusiastically. He seemed almost as happy as me to be going back to the place where we’d had our ‘first date’.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ~ Ashton ~

  Our time at the Lake House had ended all too soon. We’d barely had time to hang out before we had to make the trip to the airport so that we could fly to Washington, ready to watch her father be sworn into office. Anna had been quieter than usual, but that was probably down to it being Jack’s birthday.

  By the time we arrived at the h
otel we were staying at, we didn’t even get time to change our clothes or freshen up before a little man in a penguin suit and too much gel in his hair ushered us into the private dining room, where her parents and a few close family and friends were gathered.

  We were the last to enter, and everyone else was already seated and dressed impeccably in smart suits and evening dresses. I couldn’t have felt more out of place in my jeans and T-shirt if I’d tried. Anna’s dad stood as we entered, smiling warmly. “You made it. I’m afraid we had to start without you, so you’ve already missed the chicken liver pâté.” A shudder tickled down my spine at how disgusting that sounded.

  “Thank God,” Anna whispered, not even bothering to disguise her distaste. I chuckled, poking my finger into her ribs in reprimand.

  Her dad grinned and walked over, and I noticed that the rest of the room had gone silent and were watching the exchange. “How was today?”

  Anna’s body tensed as she raised her chin. Her hard exterior was back again, she never seemed to like anyone getting behind her defences. Thankfully, she had been allowing me to lately. “Fine.”

  Her dad nodded, obviously catching on that she didn’t want to talk about it to him. “Good. I’m glad you’re here. Thank you for coming.”

  She shrugged, finally now letting a beautiful smile creep onto her lips. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it. Shall we sit and get on with dinner, Ashton hasn’t eaten for two hours, he’ll be passing out soon,” she joked, grinning up at me.

  “Two and a half,” I corrected, winking at her playfully. Her dad chuckled at my side, so I turned to him. “It’s nice to see you again, sir. Thank you for allowing me to crash your family dinner.”

  “Anytime, son, anytime.”

  Dinner was… small. Even after five courses, my stomach was still trying to eat itself. How upper class people survived eating a tiny piece of fish drizzled in oil and laid on a bed of asparagus, I would never understand. Thankfully though, Anna had said the same thing once the evening was over and we were finally dismissed. To make up for it, I’d followed her to the family floor and her suite, and we’d ordered Sloppy Joes.