Love Thy Neighbor (Friend-Zoned)(77)

My chest aches with every beat of my racing heart.

My heart is breaking. Shattering into a million pieces.

His gaze hits the floor. He places his hands on his hips and stands tall. He says, “I liked it. I mean, I do like you. It’s just not for me. You need another type of guy. A guy I can’t ever be.”

Where is this coming from?

My stomach clenches. Lifting myself from the bed, I croak, “All I need is you.”

He looks me in the eye and spits, “I’m not even a full man, Nat. Fuck! I’m barely half of one.”

Walking closer to him, I reach out and touch his arm. I say through my stuttering breaths, “I’ll help you. We’ll go through it together, one day at a time.”

Snatching his arm away from me, he yells, “You can’t fix me!”

Losing my shit, I yell back, “I don’t want to fix you! I love you!”

He lowers his head in defeat. Placing his hands on his hips, he says quietly, “I have nothing to offer you.”

Tears stream down my face. I tell him, “Your love is something.”

“I don’t know what love is,” he whispers, avoiding my gaze.

Silence.

We both stand so close to each other, but I feel like I’ve lost him. I’m not losing him without a fight. I wipe my fallen tears and ask quietly, “Where is this coming from, Ash?”

He exhales loudly and paces in front of my closet. Not answering my question, he says, “When we’re little, we ask our moms to check under the bed for monsters. My monsters weren’t living under my bed. My monsters…” He points to his temple. “…My monsters were in here. They still are. You wanna be with someone like that? Someone like Cole? Because I’m worse than him. You wouldn’t believe the shit I’ve done. It would make your skin crawl.”

Liquid anger singes my veins. I cry and shout, “You’re nothing like him! Don’t say that! You’re not like him!”

His face changes to something cruel and dark. He takes the two steps over to me and wraps his hands around my throat, gripping tight. He cuts off my air slowly, slowly til I can’t take in a full breath. And I’m letting him. He snarls through gritted teeth, “You think I’m not like him? I’ve killed before. I’d do it again. You can’t change me. Evil breeds evil. Just like my dad.”

I reach up and hold onto his arms, I don’t claw, I don’t fight, just hold onto him. My vision turns fuzzy as pressure builds in my face, my ears block. I choke out on a whisper, “You’re not him,” then gasp, “I know what you’re doing.”

His face changes to something more than pained. Devastation.

He drops his hands from my throat and I sink to my knees in a heap, gasping and coughing. His voice is cold when he speaks without looking at me, “I’m leaving. Got shit to work out.”

A single tear trails down my cheek. Breathing heavily, I clutch my sore throat with shaking hands. Looking up at him, I whisper, “If you leave me now, I don’t know if I’ll ever want you back.”

His eyes hold mine for a solid minute. Then he turns and walks out of my room.

I start to hyperventilate.

I hear the apartment door close, and it feels so final that I do the only thing I can in this situation.

I slump forward, my shaking hands barely supporting me, close my eyes tight and howl my sorrow.

***

Someone knocks on Asher’s apartment door.

It’s been four days since he left. He hasn’t come home. Not once.

I’m worried.

He won’t return my calls or even text me that he’s okay. I spent yesterday night in his bed, hoping that if he came home, he wouldn’t have the heart to move me or tell me to get out, but he didn’t come home.

The girls are trying to figure out what’s wrong with me, but I can’t stomach telling them. I called Nik last night and begged him to tell me where he was, but he said Ash never told him where he was going. So now Nik knows. He said, “Give him time, sweetheart. He’s got a lot to deal with. The demons in his head are sometimes stronger than he is.”

So now someone knocks on his door and my heart pounds. I automatically think the worst. I imagine it’s a couple of officers standing there, bracing themselves to tell Asher’s loved one that he won’t be coming home. Ever.

My gut twists and tears blur my vision.

I may not have been loved back but he was my loved one.

Unable to stand not knowing, I throw open my door and glance down the hall. A tall, older woman stands there. She turns to face me. I get a good look at her face and immediately I know who she is. My face voids of any emotion and I ask, “Can I help you?”

She asks politely, “Excuse me. I was just looking for my son. Do you know Asher Collins? I’m Grace.”

My heart races in anger and my breathing heavies. Rage twists my gut and I flush.

Grace.

I want to punch this woman in the throat. No wonder Ash threw his phone at a wall. It was his mother calling.

How dare she come here?

She’s dressed like any other mom. This could’ve been my mom. Wearing white linen pants and a light yellow blouse, she looks as if she could be Mother of the Year. Her hair’s styled in a short, neat bob. She looks prim and proper.

Oh my, how looks can be deceiving.