The trouble was, you couldn't hide behind justification or rationalization or any of the other lies you'd told yourself when starting with "Everything was fine in the beginning."
And, "It started with us studying together. We were in a statistical methods lab class and he said my eyes were a chromosomal anomaly that would've led to my expulsion from ancient societies. He struggled with that class. He relied on me to get him through it and he appreciated it so much when I did."
However, "We weren't exclusive. We only moved in together after a year to save money and—and labels and restrictions were nothing more than social constructs."
Then, "It just didn't make sense for me to continue on with grad school. He was working on his dissertation and we needed to put all our attention on that. It was more important for him to focus on his research while I took care of everything else. I could always go back later. It was better that way."
Although, "Once he started his doctoral work, he nearly drowned in it. Between all the research and the annotation and the outlining for a dissertation, he needed me to pitch in more. Sometimes, I helped with his teaching assistant responsibilities too but only because he would've been kicked out of the program otherwise. I didn't mind the grading."
And, "It wasn't awful. Really, it wasn't. He studied. I worked. We were making it through. To my mind, that was how real couples did it. They sacrificed for each other. I sacrificed for him and after graduating, he'd find a corporate archaeology job and my turn would come."
But, "He stopped talking about life after graduating. He laughed when I mentioned my turn coming. He said I wouldn't make it in academia and it wasn't worth my time to go back to school."
And, "I didn't know how I ended up there or why I gave up everything to gain nothing, and I didn't know how to leave without making it worse. All I could think was I had to go. Go now and don't look back."
These were naked words and there was nothing I could do to cover up, to protect myself. There was no graceful exit to be had and no good place to put my hands. It was a matter of standing still and enduring the truth of it, blanking your eyes and mind enough to keep the overwhelming discomfort of it from spilling over.
It should've been easier considering this was the second time I'd taken myself apart and explained it all but explaining it to Leesa at the shop in Denver was like nothing compared to Ash.
He reached for his coffee but set it down without drinking. "I have five different things to say about this but I need you to know none of it matters. Obviously, it does matter but not to me. You are the same little Mary Poppins moonbeam you've always been and nothing can change that for me."
I picked at the remains of my sandwich, pressing my lips together. I couldn't decide whether I was holding in a smile or tears or a delirious laugh because a minute ago, I was dreadful and misshapen andbareand now I was a moonbeam.
"Next," he started, tapping a finger on the table, "that guy is a dirt bag. An actual bag of dirt."
"I know. I see that now." My shoulders slumped. "I should've seen it a long time ago."
He tapped the table again. "Don't do that. I won't allow it."
"You won't allow it," I said, fully amused.
"Not for a fucking minute, Zelda. I'd like it very much if you pursued a restraining order against him but that's not my decision. It's yours."
I bobbed my head. "I'll think it over."
"Another thing—no. No." He shook his head like he was carrying on a debate with himself. Lifted his mug. Set it down. Consulted his watch. "It can wait. The bottom line, for the purposes of this conversation, is you're here now and you're staying here—assuming that's what you want."
I had to laugh. "Ash. Sweetie. I'm attending your sister's wedding in a few hours. Your aunts pinched my cheeks last night. I'm getting a pedicure with some of the bridesmaids next week because that's apparently a thing they all do. I wouldn't be in Rhode Island with you and doing all these things if it wasn't what I wanted. Trust me when I say I'm better at boundaries and limits now."
"That's a relief." He reached for the mug, this time drinking before returning it to the table. "And speaking of the wedding, we have to get a move on. I have to be at the Blithewold mansion in an hour for photos."
I watched him glance at the check and count out a few bills. "I know. I've been tasked with getting you there on time."
Ash pushed to his feet and held out his hand for mine. "By all means, Miss Besh. Keep me in line. I'll be returning the favor to you tonight."
* * *
The wedding,of course, was amazing and beautiful and all the precious things weddings should be, and I watched it from the front row, beside Ash's parents. Before Magnolia's procession, Diana whispered to me that they weren't going to seat Millie with them but I was family and they were just so thrilled I wasn't Millie.
One of these days, I had to meet this Millie for myself.
The Blithewold grounds were gorgeous, the bride was radiant, and the groom cried at the right moments. And I was overcome with a hot, buzzy sensation that felt a lot like comfort. Maybe even belonging. I didn't have a parachute to pack or a collision to avoid anymore but a life to simply…live.
As this settled over me, I glanced up at Ash where he stood with the other groomsmen in their crisp navy suits. He met my gaze and pressed his hand to his heart but something went terribly wrong and he muttered, "Fuck" loud enough to catch the minister's attention. Snagging the handkerchief from his breast pocket, he said, "Please continue."
One last thing you should know about me was I loved this guy to pieces.
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