Fuck’s sake, she’s in jeans, a flannel, and cowgirl boots.
This isn’t how it should be. She should be wearing a white dress, holding her dad’s arm…
“Hi,” she whispers as she stops before me, and I soften, seeing the concern in her eyes.
“Hey, pixie,” I murmur as I cup her cheek, tingling rushing through me at the contact.
“Still have a chance to change your mind, Ty,” she says quietly, and I frown.
Fuck, how much did she hear?
“Why would I change my mind from marrying the woman I love?” I ask, “I’ve been with you since we were ten years old, and honestly, this was bound to happen at some point.”
I hear my mama huff, but I ignore her and the unsettling feeling that this is a mistake. I wrap my arm around Ash’s waist before guiding her towards Judge Jones’s office, a judge I grew up calling uncle who wanted to go into law instead of the club.
“You should have walked away,” Ashley mutters, bringing me out of our past, and I frown as Dr. Chimes asks, “And why is that, Ashley?”
She scoffs, “Didn’t you hear him? He didn’t want me, he didn’t want our son, he wanted the single life. A life his parents were trying to encourage him to have, while I stood in the ladies' bathroom alone and scared. He should have walked away when I gave him the out instead of being a selfish prick refusing for anyone else to have me when he wanted more!”
Damn…
I flinch at her harsh words and look down as I whisper, “I loved you, pixie.”
She chuckles darkly, “No, you didn’t, you were possessive of me, and the only reason why you put a ring on my finger was because of Cole. And even then, you didn’t want him, youwanted me to abort him, your whole family wanted me to abort him yet none of you expressed that to me, you all decided to keep me in the dark.”
“Ashley, why don’t you explain to me your view of your wedding day?” Dr. Chimes cuts in before a full-blown fucking argument begins.
She knows I love her and Cole, she knows I was confused back then, that I was scared but as soon as I held Cole, as soon as she had given birth to our son, I fucking melted.
“What is the point?” Ashley sighs.
I stiffen, and Dr. Chimes reminds her, “The point is you have a child together, the point is that despite everything, you still love your husband.”
“My husband, who had a year-long affair, you mean? With a woman who used to throw my clothes in the toilet after gym because I had someone she really wanted. Guess what, all those years ago she promised she was going to get him and well she was right. She got a whole year of him right under my nose, while I was taking care of our child before showing me pictures of my husband, of the man who I gave up everything for eating her out.” She says with facts. I look away ashamed until she says, “My husband, Dr. Chimes, who gave me Chlamydia.”
I look at her in shock, but she doesn’t look at me. Fuck, I swear she’s pulling further and further away from me, the hate radiating from her.
I didn’t think she would contract it, I just… Fuck, I never even thought of protection the four measly times she allowed me to touch her, I fucking relished in it because I miss her so much, but fucking Chlamydia?
I’m never going to get my wife back, am I?
Ashley
“Ashley, please explain your thoughts on your wedding,” Dr. Chimes tries again, and I look away, my heart pulsing feeling Tyler’s anger.
I didn’t mean to admit to the STD, but hearing him express how much he didn’t want to marry me despite the fact that I gave him an out when I found out I was pregnant and on our wedding day, it ticked me off.
I mean, how dare he?
I didn’t beg him to make me his, I didn’t beg him to knock me up, claim me, or marry me all before I was eighteen.
He asked me, pleaded with me despite my reservations, he asked me to pause my life so he can keep the club happy. Yet, he screwed my high school bully for a whole freaking year, claiming she was only in the clubhouse as a clubwhore. Which to be honest I thought was fitting until she turned around and broke the news my husband didn’t love me, that every time I was in the clubhouse and he wasn’t there, he was really screwing her before coming over to me, touching me with the same hands he’d just touched her with.
He’s a jackass.
“Please, pixie,” Trigger whispers, and my jaw ticks, hating that nickname.
I used to love it, used to swoon at it because apparently I was small and had a pixie size nose that he loved, but now all I see are lies.
