I huff. “No big deal.” I’m just doing what I should have years ago, and sucking up my own discomfort to give her what she needs.
“No, it is,” she insists.
“I’ll get the girls.” I yank the door open and step into the hall. A moment later, I let both Paige and Jessica into the house. Paige bustles right past me like I’m not there and hurries to Ashlin’s room, while Jessica stops to appraise me with wary eyes.
“How is she?” she asks.
“Not great,” I admit. “If I hadn’t called her, she might have moped all night without letting me know.”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s Ash for you. Independent to a fault. Doesn’t like to burden anyone.”
“Huh.” Back when we’d been together, Ashlin was certainly a strong woman, but I wouldn’t have thought of her as overly independent. It goes to show how little I know of the person she’s become. Besides, how could she ever think of herself as a burden? She has the most loving heart of anyone I know and it needs to be safeguarded.
When I don’t say anything further, Jessica’s stare intensifies. “Thanks for calling. When Ash told us about her plan to approach you, I thought she was out of her mind, but maybe she knew what she was doing. You’re not quite the asshole I expected you to be.”
How am I supposed to respond to that? And what the hell did Ashlin tell her to make her think I’d be an asshole? “Thanks, I guess.”
Her lips press together. “My impression of you has improved. Don’t fuck it up.”
“I’ll try not to.” She starts to brush past me, but I stop her with a hand on her arm. “Thanks for having Ash’s back. It takes a lot of balls to say what you just did to a guy like me.”
She shrugs. “I have a vagina of steel. You don’t scare me.”
I sputter, but she doesn’t give any indication that she’s made a joke. In fact, she’s deadly serious. “Got it.”
I release her, and she continues to the bedroom, sparing me a final glance before vanishing through the doorway. I shiver. Fuck, that girl is intimidating. Dithering in the hall, I wonder whether to join them, but decide not to. They need time to talk without having me around. Instead, I go to the living room, collapse onto the sofa, and call Harley. Her phone rings and rings, and it occurs to me that she might not answer. I’m about to give up when the call connects.
“Hey,” she says.
“Ash isn’t pregnant,” I blurt out with no tact at all, like a goddamn moron.
“Damn.” She curses, and there’s a muffled sound down the line, as though she’s moving. “Hang on a sec.” Devon’s voice sounds in the background. “I’m back. Is she okay?”
“She’s hanging in there. She’s with a couple of her friends now.”
“Fuck.” Exactly my thought. “Poor Ash.”
“I know.” I drag a hand down my face, then press the heel of my palm into my eye socket. “What should I do? I can’t stand to see her so upset.” Which was half of the reason I vanished on her after our miscarriage. Seeing her but knowing I couldn’t remove her pain was a nightmare.
“Just be there for her,” my sister advises. “I’m not exactly the kind of woman who knows what it’s like to want a baby, but if you stay with her and let her know you’re there for whatever she needs, then I think that’s the best you can do. Oh, and chocolate. You know how much she loves that stuff. Get her all the fancy-schmancy truffles and bonbons she can possibly eat.”
“Good thinking.” I make a mental note to do that. Ashlin was always addicted to sweet things—not that she allowed herself to indulge often. “Thanks, Harley.”
“No problem.” There’s a question in her voice, but I don’t have to wait long for her to ask it. “Should I come over? I want to give her a massive hug.”
I consider her suggestion. “Maybe tomorrow? I get the feeling she’s maxed out on people for today. I’m going to give her a bit of time with her friends because they can be there for her in a way I can’t, but I’m sure she’d be happy to see you soon.”
“All right.” She pauses, then adds, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I know how much you wanted it to.”
My breath catches, and it takes a moment for me to recover enough to breathe normally, but even then, my heart is hammering. “We’re not giving up.”
I say it for myself as much as for her. This isn’t the end. Not for our journey to a family, and not for our love story.
“You’d better not. I want my sister back.”
“I’ll get her for you,” I promise. “Thanks, Harls.”
She snorts. “Oh, please. Not you too.”
