Until Ashlyn
Page 27
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“Married?”
Oh, fuck me, not again.
My eyes slice past Dillon to my dad standing in the doorway of my room. “Dad.”
“What’s going on?” my mom questions, coming up behind my dad and putting her hand to his waist so she can see around him.
“Apparently, your daughter is a married woman now,” he growls, looking down at her.
“Dad,” I repeat, feeling suddenly heartbroken. He only does the whole ‘I’m my mom’s kid’ thing when he’s really pissed off at me.
“Married?” Mom whispers, looking at me with wide, hurt-filled eyes.
“Let’s go sit down and talk about this,” Dillon suggests, sounding much calmer than he did moments ago, and my dad’s eyes swing to him and fill with anger.
“Talk? You want to talk to me now? Why the fuck didn’t you talk to me before you married my only goddamn daughter?” he barks, and my arms wrap around my waist. I knew this would be bad. I knew it. But still, I secretly hoped it would turn out okay once I told them.
“Honey, calm down,” Mom whispers from his side, and I watch him pull in a ragged breath.
“I don’t even know what the fuck to say right now.” He pulls off his hat and runs his fingers through his hair then looks at me. “I can’t believe you kept this from your mom and me.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, thinking those words don’t even come close to conveying how horrible I truly feel right now.
“You.” He points at Dillon. “I’ve trusted you.”
“He wanted to tell you,” I defend without thinking, stepping between them, only to have Dillon put his hand to my waist and pull me to his side.
“Yeah, but he didn’t,” he mutters, then looks down at my mom. “Come on, let’s get home.” He wraps his arm around her shoulders, leading her away. I want to say something to stop them from going, but I know right now it’s best if I let them go and give them a chance to cool down. I also know I need to come up with a valid reason for keeping them in the dark.
“Shhhh.” Dillon’s arms engulf me as a sob climbs up the back of my throat and my body jerks forward. “It will be okay. They just need some time for the news to sink in,” he whispers, and I cry harder into his chest. Scooping me up into his arms, he carries me out of the room to the living room and settles us on the couch, with me in his lap. “Please calm down. The tears are killing me.”
“I… I ha-have nev… never… see-seen… m-my da… dad so mad,” I cry, and his hand on my back rubs in soothing circles.
“He’ll come around.” He will, but when? I’ve never seen my dad look at me the way he did just now, and I hate the idea of him being mad at me, so mad that he walked away. And let’s not even get into my mom’s reaction. She didn’t say anything, but I know she’s hurt and I hate that. “Everything will be okay, but please stop crying. I don’t like it.”
“You can’t make me stop crying!” I sob, and his mouth drops to my ear, placing a kiss there.
“I know,” he mutters, sounding annoyed by that fact. I don’t know how long we sit there, me in his lap, curled around him, his hands rubbing gently over my back, but my tears eventually dry up and I melt into him, feeling the day start to set in and my eyes and body begin to get heavy. “Can I ask why you were moving me out?” he questions, and my body stiffens. I try to move off him, but his arms hold me tighter, keeping me in place. “Talk to me.”
“I wasn’t moving you out.”
“You packed my shit.”
“And mine. I was moving us out,” I admit quietly, and his body goes rock-solid.
“Pardon?”
“I know you love your house, and I know you don’t really want to sell it, so I asked Michelle to tell me how much it was so I could buy it from you, but I don’t have enough for the down payment,” I complain, and his body tenses further.
“You were going to buy my house?” he asks after a moment, and it’s my turn to tense. Pulling my face away from his chest with his hand on my jaw, his eyes search mine. “You were going to buy my house?” he repeats softly, and my teeth go to the inside of my cheek as I shrug. “You hate my house.”
“I like the library and the kitchen, I also like your bedroom,” I defend quietly, feeling guilty.
“Baby.” His eyes move past me as his head shakes from side to side. “I’m selling because I want you to be happy.”
“I want the same for you.” I’ve never had to consider anyone else’s feelings before, but I do want him to be happy. And I really don’t want him to resent me for making him give up something that means so much to him, something that represents a part of his childhood; a childhood that was scarred by the loss of his parents.
“We’re not moving into my house,” he states after a moment, and I feel my face scrunch up in annoyance.
“Yes we are.”
“We’re not.”
“You are so damn annoying.” I push away from him, and since he’s not prepared for my sudden shift I almost fall onto my ass, but thankfully he’s strong and quick, so he catches me before I do damage to myself.
“Be careful.”
He steadies me once I’m on my feet, and I lean closer to him, and shout, “Stop telling me what to do!”
Oh, fuck me, not again.
My eyes slice past Dillon to my dad standing in the doorway of my room. “Dad.”
“What’s going on?” my mom questions, coming up behind my dad and putting her hand to his waist so she can see around him.
“Apparently, your daughter is a married woman now,” he growls, looking down at her.
“Dad,” I repeat, feeling suddenly heartbroken. He only does the whole ‘I’m my mom’s kid’ thing when he’s really pissed off at me.
“Married?” Mom whispers, looking at me with wide, hurt-filled eyes.
“Let’s go sit down and talk about this,” Dillon suggests, sounding much calmer than he did moments ago, and my dad’s eyes swing to him and fill with anger.
“Talk? You want to talk to me now? Why the fuck didn’t you talk to me before you married my only goddamn daughter?” he barks, and my arms wrap around my waist. I knew this would be bad. I knew it. But still, I secretly hoped it would turn out okay once I told them.
“Honey, calm down,” Mom whispers from his side, and I watch him pull in a ragged breath.
“I don’t even know what the fuck to say right now.” He pulls off his hat and runs his fingers through his hair then looks at me. “I can’t believe you kept this from your mom and me.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, thinking those words don’t even come close to conveying how horrible I truly feel right now.
“You.” He points at Dillon. “I’ve trusted you.”
“He wanted to tell you,” I defend without thinking, stepping between them, only to have Dillon put his hand to my waist and pull me to his side.
“Yeah, but he didn’t,” he mutters, then looks down at my mom. “Come on, let’s get home.” He wraps his arm around her shoulders, leading her away. I want to say something to stop them from going, but I know right now it’s best if I let them go and give them a chance to cool down. I also know I need to come up with a valid reason for keeping them in the dark.
“Shhhh.” Dillon’s arms engulf me as a sob climbs up the back of my throat and my body jerks forward. “It will be okay. They just need some time for the news to sink in,” he whispers, and I cry harder into his chest. Scooping me up into his arms, he carries me out of the room to the living room and settles us on the couch, with me in his lap. “Please calm down. The tears are killing me.”
“I… I ha-have nev… never… see-seen… m-my da… dad so mad,” I cry, and his hand on my back rubs in soothing circles.
“He’ll come around.” He will, but when? I’ve never seen my dad look at me the way he did just now, and I hate the idea of him being mad at me, so mad that he walked away. And let’s not even get into my mom’s reaction. She didn’t say anything, but I know she’s hurt and I hate that. “Everything will be okay, but please stop crying. I don’t like it.”
“You can’t make me stop crying!” I sob, and his mouth drops to my ear, placing a kiss there.
“I know,” he mutters, sounding annoyed by that fact. I don’t know how long we sit there, me in his lap, curled around him, his hands rubbing gently over my back, but my tears eventually dry up and I melt into him, feeling the day start to set in and my eyes and body begin to get heavy. “Can I ask why you were moving me out?” he questions, and my body stiffens. I try to move off him, but his arms hold me tighter, keeping me in place. “Talk to me.”
“I wasn’t moving you out.”
“You packed my shit.”
“And mine. I was moving us out,” I admit quietly, and his body goes rock-solid.
“Pardon?”
“I know you love your house, and I know you don’t really want to sell it, so I asked Michelle to tell me how much it was so I could buy it from you, but I don’t have enough for the down payment,” I complain, and his body tenses further.
“You were going to buy my house?” he asks after a moment, and it’s my turn to tense. Pulling my face away from his chest with his hand on my jaw, his eyes search mine. “You were going to buy my house?” he repeats softly, and my teeth go to the inside of my cheek as I shrug. “You hate my house.”
“I like the library and the kitchen, I also like your bedroom,” I defend quietly, feeling guilty.
“Baby.” His eyes move past me as his head shakes from side to side. “I’m selling because I want you to be happy.”
“I want the same for you.” I’ve never had to consider anyone else’s feelings before, but I do want him to be happy. And I really don’t want him to resent me for making him give up something that means so much to him, something that represents a part of his childhood; a childhood that was scarred by the loss of his parents.
“We’re not moving into my house,” he states after a moment, and I feel my face scrunch up in annoyance.
“Yes we are.”
“We’re not.”
“You are so damn annoying.” I push away from him, and since he’s not prepared for my sudden shift I almost fall onto my ass, but thankfully he’s strong and quick, so he catches me before I do damage to myself.
“Be careful.”
He steadies me once I’m on my feet, and I lean closer to him, and shout, “Stop telling me what to do!”
