This is HUGE chapter for Leed. If we thought Ash has been at the breaking point, Leed is right there with her, dealing with his own burdens and self-doubt. Not to mention a health-vulnerable girlfriend, a high maintenance Baby Mama, an infant son, a volatile sister. Oh. And a secret. A rather serious secret....
The song...Better Days for the Goo-Goo Dolls, because Ash and Leed have had about as much past drama to deal with as they can possibly take and "Tonight's the Night The World Begins Again..." either they are going to crack or turn a corner after this!!!!
Leed
Unbelievably, I slept last night.
I didn't at firstâfor a long time I just pretended...breathing evenly so Ash would think I was asleep and be swayed to join the slumber.
She fell asleep long before I did. I lay beside her, studying her face in the dim glow that crept around the black-out shades. Her beautyâeven relaxed in sleep and clothed in shadowsâis beyond alluring.
I crave the curve of her waking smile and the light in her bright eyes, but the contours of her lovely cheekbones and the delicate curve of her nostrils were a comforting substitute.
While I was studying her loveliness, I dug really deep, and tried to get as fucking honest as possible about what I'm doing with Ashlynn.
It's undeniable that Ashlynn is a wonderful person inside, and she fills me with inspiration and energy when I'm around her, but what if I'm bullshitting myself? What if I'm not in love with her, but just completely infatuated with her gorgeous form and caught up in the idea of possessing her? She's the most beautiful woman I have ever wanted that denied me. Hell, she's the only woman that's denied me in the last three years...besides Tam when she cut me off.
I remember last spring when Tam cooled on me. I didn't like it worth a damn. I doubled down on my efforts to bed her, which is how we ended up with Ollie. Am I doing that again without even realizing it?
I never lose. Am I just trying to win?
Because when I look at Ashlynn's sleeping form, her vulnerability is so fucking obvious to me, and I realize she was right all alongâshe can't afford to lose at love again. I can't win at her expense. That means, I have to be really damn sure I'm in this for the right reasons. If I climb this mountain, I have to be strong enough to carry her burdens, because sometimes she's not going to be able to carry them herself.
Yesterday morning, nothing had ever seemed so simple as telling Ashlynn that I loved her. I was sure I could give her everything she needed. I thought she needed passion, and fun,and confidence and a little adventure, and understanding and someone to match her kindness.
I know I can give her all those things.
But the way I felt last night...when I was distracted by Tam's questions and Ollie's cries, and Ashlynn collapsed beside me, and I barely caught her before she hit her head on a damn marble end-table? A cruel fucking ironyâthat the injury she took five years ago is putting her at risk for the same damn kind of trauma all over again?
Suddenly I had a thought that terrified me more than any I have ever had.
What if Ashlynn is in hell in this life? Doomed to repeat her pain over and over? Because it seems like her existence is filled with bad shit. Every goddamn minute, she's in peril from pain or trauma or addiction or shame. Her trauma and her vulnerability are never going away. She will always have a sensitive brain prone to seizure that craves reckless relief with drugs. And even if she fades her scars with treatment, the memory of a man that hurt her mercilessly will be as sharp as the knife he used.
She will always be...wounded to a degree.
Like Mac, her vulnerabilities will maybe strike at from nowhere. There may be times when her seizures are worse. She may not keep her sobriety every day for the rest of her life. She may never only feel me, when we make love. He may be with her forever, holding her down beneath a knife. She may hear the echoes of her own screams in the back of her mind, when I'm above her.
So the question becomes...do I have what it takes to walk through hell for this girl? Can I do this, knowing there are no guarantees that the sunny, stable girl I met five years ago, the girl that seems to have reclaimed herself in these last nine months, will be the girl I wake up with every day? Will I have the strength she needs in the times when her strength falters? Is the hope that there will be more good days than bad enough? Do I have a love for her that is...unwavering? Unconditional? A love that can create a perpetual oasis in the middle of an eternal desert?
Cam didn't have that kind of love for her. Trace couldn't keep that kind of shelter for her. They both tried and reached a breaking point. What makes me think I am better than either of them? And neither one of them had what I haveâa son, a priority I can't put Ashlynn above.
Am I enough for this?
So I stayed wake, searching for answers.
I couldn't reason my way to the answers, but in the end, I found the answer right beneath my fingertips. Hours later, I still had my hand above her heart. I could feel its beat, and as I focused on it, it took me over. There were no more worries, no more doubts, no more fears.
There was only me, and this sleeping girl and the rhythm of our hearts, falling into sync. I can't explain how it happened, but my heart slowed its way to the exact same cadence as hers, deeper and louder and stronger in my chest than the light thrum of hers I could feel beneath my fingers.
My heart beat its way to simple surety.
I love her more deeply than her beauty, more purely than my lust for her body. I love her more than adventurous castles in the air I imagine for us.
I love her all the way down to her heart, all the way from mine.
Am I enough?
It's not a question.
It's a decision.
I will be enough. One day at a time, I will be enough-for Ollie and for Ashlynn.
And in the morning, I know exactly how to start. If I want her to let me share her secrets, I'll be the one to start.
The truth is I hate secrets because I have one of my ownâone that I keep from virtually everyone. But this secret...if I tell it to Ashlynn, I think it can help her understand that she and I are more alike than she realizes.
I finally fell asleep. When I woke, the edges of the blackout shades were bright and Ashlynn was no longer in bed beside me.
I pull her pillow close, breathe in her scent and make a conscious decision to assume that Ashlynn rising early is a probably good sign that her head feels better, because if I'm going to love this girl, I refuse to spend our time assuming the worst about her condition, or chasing her down, making her feel like prey in an attempt to protect her. No one wants to feel like an invalid because a loved one hovers.
I know that for sure.
I roll to the bathroom. "You still here, Ash?" I call through the open door to the living area as I take a much needed piss.
"Yeah," she calls casually. After I wash up, brush my teeth and splash some water on my face, I find her arranged in a glorious downward dog. She's taken off her long pajama pants and tied her loose top to the side, and she's wearing hot pink panties with a see-through mesh heart on her ass.
"Mother of god, what a view," I chuckle, walking up behind her and tracing the heart, massaging her cheeks lightly. She makes a breathy half laugh sound. I grasp her hips and gently kick her legs apart, so that I can ease beneath her, flat on the floor. She smiles as I scoot up to to meet my lips to hers.
"Morning," I say. "Headache gone?"
She nods, dropping down, rolling through chataranga into cobra pose right on top of me. I brush my fingers down her lovely extended neck. She shivers and kicks her hips back up into downward dog, bringing her face close to mine.
"I feel perfect."
"That's great, baby." I give her a thorough kiss this time and her pose collapses until we are chest to chest, with her straddling me.
I rub her back as we enjoy the warmth of each other's mouths and the mintiness of each other's tongues. When she starts to slither down my body, I grab her elbows. "Where do you think you are going?" I tease her.
"To say good morning to your pet manaconda," she grins.
I laugh out loud. My pet? I think he's probably in danger of becoming her petâthe kind that comes on command. "That sounds great, baby, but we should finish yoga, yeah? If we get all sexy now, Mac the Slave Driver will be banging on our door before you know it, and you might not get your yoga in..."
She rises in plank over me, and stares down at me quietly. "Leed, why do you want to be with me? You're the kind of guy that needs...a fun girlfriend."
I curl up and wrap her legs around my waist. "Yoga is fun."
"I'm not fun," she counters.
This thing she says, it blows my fucking mind. "What? Everything we do together is fun. The night we met? More fun than I had that whole damn semester. The day we played wind chimes on your porch? So much fun. The time we went stair sliding on cardboard? Super fun. The night we played music in my studio? Tons of fun. The erotic massages we gave each other,and the happy endings? Mindblowing fun. Last night--how you let me make your panties wet under the dinner table right in front of everyone? Hot, naughty fun. You are exactly my shade of joy, baby."
She blushes and smiles. "Okay, but brain trauma and seizures and addiction aren't fun. My baggage isn't fun."
I curl my hands over her shoulders. "If you were a diabetic, would you say you weren't fun because of your condition?"
She blinks. "What?"
"If your challenge was a wonky pancreas that never works quite right instead of a traumatized brain that still works beautifully 99.9% of the time, would you say it made you not fun?"
"Well, no, but that's different."
Leed shrugs. "Not really. You would have to constantly watch your diet, your energy output, monitor your blood sugar, take your insulin. You would have to make your health a priority in the middle of a busy life. In some ways, it might even pose similar risks to an addiction. For example, if you wanted to do something that isn't good for your condition, say, party like a rock star and get lost in long nights where you aren't monitoring your health, you would do all that shit knowing it puts you at greater risk than another rockstar. You would do it knowing you are making a stupid decision that might one day put you in a coma or even kill you. So you might take risks sometimes, push your limits sometimes, but most of the time you would try to live a very disciplined, healthy, lifestyle, right? No one would say you aren't fun. Hell, no would even realize you were a diabetic, unless you told them."
Ashlynn's eyes are widening, coming to comprehension. "You are a diabetic?"
"Yeah. But like I said, nobody knows. Except my parents and Mac. And Tam, I had to tell her, because of Ollie. The kind I have is caused by a single genetic mutation. There's a fifty percent chance he will develop it."
"I don't understand" Her eyes roam my elbows, my thighs, and her hands go automatically to my stomach. "But... you don't have a pump, or any injection marks."
"I don't need injectable insulin."
"Why? That's not normal is it? For people with Type I?"
"Not for Type 1 diabetes, no. But I have a rare kind...it's called MODYâor Maturity Onset Diabetes of the Young. Only about two percent of diabetics are like me. It develops after puberty. Genetic mutations that were already suddenly switch on when your hormones change. My pancreas can make insulin, but it can't "hear" from my body very well when to make it, so it just makes a little. If I eat a lot of carbs, I have way high blood sugar all the time, because my body doesn't respond by producing more insulin. The good thing is, I can control it mostly with diet and exercise, and oral insulin if I need it. I've been dealing with it since I was fifteen, and I've learned to manage it. If ate more carbs or did a lot of intensity training that required me to eat more carbs, I'd have to monitor more times a day and use more oral insulin, so I've learned to keep things simpleâcutting out most carbs except whole grains and berries and foods that don't spike my blood sugar, and using yoga for fitness."
"But...why keep something like that a secret? From the guys?"
I shrug. "It wasn't on purpose, at first. It just wasn't a big deal, back in the day. It never came up. Bodie and I lived together and it was never even on his radar, although I did start hiding my insulin pills after we moved into the party house together. Not because I was trying to keep it a secret, but because they got swiped at a couple of parties. I guess I didn't broadcast it because I didn't want the guys to make a big deal about it, or look at me sideways when I drank or whatever. Drinking is not exactly a good practice for a diabetic, you know. It makes blood sugar really unstable...raising it when you just drink a few and then causing it to crash too low if you drink too heavily. You add external insulin to that scenario.. it can cause a diabetic coma, even."
"That sounds dangerous."
"Yeah. It's pretty stupid for me to drink, but I typically don't drink alot, you know. "
"Oh," she says. "That's why...you smoke weed more than you drink?"
"Yeah. It doesn't raise my blood sugar, but obviously it's still not a great habit, either. When I'm high, I'm more prone to eat things I wouldn't normally, and I'm sure as hell not worrying about monitoring my blood sugar and taking an insulin pill. So...I just...hid it so no one would judge be for being irresponsible, I guess. I would eat really healthy, but the partying was pretty much my one risky behavior. I wasn't willing to cut it out. I especially didn't want Trace policing me, because you know we have a little bit of a rivalry thing going on. It's his band, but I'm the frontman...we're cool now, but in the beginning we were kind of..."
She bites back a smile. "In a pissing match for dominance?"
I rub her thighs. "Something like that. So I just kept the whole thing on the down-low. Mac is super loyal, so she never made it a thing. I didn't think it was a big deal to keep it to myself...until we were being scouted by the label. They put us through this huge liability vetting process. Background checks and health screenings. They investigated the shit out of Bodi, because he's a black dude with a juvi record that should have been sealed but they found out about anyway. They wanted to make sure more charges wouldn't follow him to LA, I guess. Anyway, they were giving Bodie a hard time, and I sort of...panicked and was worried we wouldn't get signed if the label knew their new rising frontman had a medical condition that didn't exactly fit with the rock star lifestyle. So I lied on the health questionnaires. It was easy for me to pass the physical, because they were just checking basic stuff like my blood sugar which was managed with my diet, see? They didn't know to give me a genetic screening for a very specific mutation that causes a rare form of diabetes, right?
"And now, that I know how the game is really played, I'm even more convinced it's a think I should keep on the down-low. Image is everything. Matt del Marco told me that his high blood pressure is like a fucking state secret in his media machine, because the label thinks if it was disclosed it would make him seem old and suddenly unsexy. Marcy was adamanet that none of the problems with Mac's pregnancy could leak, because that would somehow make her more human and less goddess. How would my diabetes play? A frontman that seems like a Buddhist, vegan hippie? Sexy. A diabetic that is not actually vegan, but eats meat in secret because he's really on a strict high protein-good carb only dietâand can't really work out strenuously so he does yoga for his muscles, and sometimes cuts loose and does really irresponsible shit like abusing alcohol while he has a medical condition in which he shouldn't be drinking at all? Maybe not so sexy. Maybe a branding issue. Shit, they might even consider me in breach of contract, because I lied about my health. I mean, do you know how much the label has me insured for, in case fall off the stage and break my neck or have a heart attack from partying and kill their projected income for Soundcrush? It's crazy. And all that life insurance would be null and void if anyone found out I lied about my medical status. Soundcrush is still in the shit for canceling the tour, I don't want to rock the boat in any way."
Ashlynn is still on my lap her expression intent and full of sympathy. "Oh Leed. You are under so much pressure as a frontman, aren't you? And you are right, a medical condition can change the way people perceive you. It's not fair...especially in your case when it's totally managed."
"It's not always managed. That's what I'm trying to tell you, baby. Sometimes I fuck up. Sometimes I drink too much after taking an insulin pill and nearly put myself into low blood sugar shock. Sometimes I realize and counteract it myself, but a couple of times, Mac has seen the glassy look in my eyes and poured orange juice down my throat before I went into shock. Other times I get stressed over band business or something stupid and eat a bunch of chips or cookies in a green room and wake up the next morning with a bad headache and blurred vision and brain fog and thirsty as fuck and I know my blood sugar is through the roof before I even prick my finger. And if I spend too much of my life doing thatâswinging through the extremes of high and low blood sugar-- the long term effects will ruin my eyes and my kidneys and my heart and I might not have a great life, down the road. I might be on dialysis. I might go blind. I might die too young. So I know, even when I fuck up, I have to get right back to taking care of myself. I have to, just like you have to, you see? I do all kind of shit that isn't fun, to manage my diabetes. But it doesn't mean that I'm not fun. I'm fun, even when I eat cauliflower crust pizza. I mean...do you really think I eat cauliflower crust pizza because I love it? That shit is not a party for my taste buds...it's barely tolerable." I tease her.
She frowns. "I like it..."
"Naw, you don't, it's gross. You just think you like it now, to please me, I think. Cause you're a little bit of a people pleaser, aren't you? It's why you let him talk you into being something you aren't... and into sexual sadism that you didn't like." I rub her lips. She bows her head.
"I guess so."
I take her head in my hands. "Listen to me, it's not a bad thing, to want to please someone you love, to give yourself over, as long as you both feel good in the dynamic," I say. "I want to make you happy, too, Ash. I want to share my lifestyle with you, okay? That's why I'm telling you thisâso you can begin to understand why I live the way I do. You see now I've got my own health condition to manage. I understand what it's like for you. I don't see the things you have to do to stay healthy as an obstacle to fun. I see it like a way we fit together, okay? Look, the place I really struggleâthe only place I really struggle with my condition...is the party life. It's not good for anybody, and it's especially not good for a diabetic. So me being with you, and maybe being less inclined to party, because it's even more of a health risk to you? That helps me, Ashlynn. Going to bed with you at a reasonable hour and not staying out all night abusing my bodies with substances? It's a win-win for us, baby."
"I'm not promising you I won't have weak moments, and do irresponsible shit that is not good for me. Just like you can't promise me that you will live every day sober for the rest of you life. All we can promise is one day at time. Today, I can tell you I'm going to eat right, and exercise and balance my blood sugar and put the last couple of nights that I drank too much behind me. If you have a bad nightâif you get off your yoga or sleep routine and have a seizure, even if you compromise your sobriety, and have to start over being sober, I won't judge you. I won't see it as a weakness. I won't see it as a deal-breaker. Coping with the limitations of life, and messing it up sometimes, and getting back on routine and coping some more, that's the same life I live."
I hold out my hands to her. "Will you let me help you? Will you help me?"
"Of course, Leed," she says but her real answer is in her smile, in the way she puts her hands in mine. I ease her back onto the floor, covering her with mouth with kisses and her body with mine. Her hands roam freely over my bodyâmy abs, my back muscles.
"You don't have any questions?" I ask between kisses. Tam sort of freaked out about it when I told her. Partly because she was worried about me, partly about Ollie's potential future, also just because I had neglected to tell her in all the time we were together.
"Hmmmm...nothing you won't tell me in time or if I need to know," she says lightly. "I'm so sorry you have to live with diabetes, but the results of your good nutrition and your yoga are a great side-effect," she teases me.
I slide my hands underneath her, "Funny, I feel the exact same way about how you have to practice yoga to avoid popping pills, because your ass is fucking perfect."
She stills as I kiss her throat. "You feel sorry about my addiction. How do you feel about my accident, and my seizures?"
I prop up, putting my hands around the top of her head. "I don't think of you as brain damaged. Surely you know that. About your brain trauma I only feel...guilty."
"Guilty? How?"
I shrug. "Sometimes I think...if I had chased you a little harder, not let you slip away that first night I met you, maybe you would have been my girl, for over year by thenâby the night Trace asked you to cover for him and Kat. If that had been the case, maybe you would have been visiting down at UGA with me over the break. Or maybe I would have come home to Atlanta to be with you. Either way, you wouldn't have been standing between Trace and his dad. You would have been far away from there, or I would have been with you, helping you cover up for them. You wouldn't have gotten hurt."
"There is no way what happened to me is your fault, Leed. You have to know that."
"I know it, here, sure," I point to my head. "I don't know it here," I put her hand on my heart. "I fell for you so hard that first night, part of me has always been yours. And if I was yours way back then, that made you mine, too. I wasn't there for you the night you needed me most. That's the way my heart feels."
She sighs. "That is wrong thinking, but it's so sweet. So you."
I trace her eyebrows with my thumbs. "We've covered a lot of ground here. How are you feeling about all of it?"
"Close to you. Touched that your shared your secret with me. Also a little bit confused. I thought you said we needed to do yoga. You could have sexed me twice in all the time we've been talking," she teases.
"Ha, I wouldn't be anywhere close to having sexed you once. I'd still be torturing you a little...here," I lick the shell of her ear and she shivers. "And here," I run my nose across her collarbone. Then back up to her ear. "But does that mean you are ready? To take your clothes off with me?"
She runs her hands through her hair. "I think I'm...close."
"Okay, love. Whenever you are ready, and I mean that. But really now, it's yoga time." I pull her to her feet and we use my app to practice for about half an hour. Then, we practice the acroyoga routine that we are learning for Gabe's class. Over our breakfast of eggs and sprouted grain toast with smashed avocado, Ash and I talk about the week. The next few days will be busy getting Madam all tucked into their new house and hanging with them. I tell Ash that barring Mac being in labor on Wednesday, I'm cool with us to returning to LA to make Gabe's class, but that we need to be back down South by Friday.
"Why?" she asks blankly.
I grin. "Have you forgotten our first date?"
She shakes her head, giggling. "Our first date? Are you still serious about calling it that? We are so far past a first date."
I grind pepper on my eggs. "Nope. I'm hitting the rewind, Sunshine. We're taking it all the way back to first date fun. We can do that now, we've got all the confessions and drama out of the way, right?"
She holds her plate up for me to pepper her avocado. She sits the plate down and fingers her knife, not picking it up, staring down at it. She looks up at me and squares her shoulder. "Except we haven't. Before I take my clothes off with you...before you see the scar...there's so much I need to tell you. About the six months I was a submissive to a sociopath who nearly drove me as crazy as he is."
The dry toast in my mouth is suddenly impossible to swallow. I choke it down with some black coffee, clearing my throat heavily. "You don't. Have to. I know I asked you to think about telling me, but if you're not ready..."
Her blonde curls shimmer as she shakes her head. "I can talk about it. The hardest part is the scar, but maybe not for the reasons you think. Still, I can talk about it. I want to tell you. Tonight, okay? After Moving Day? The sooner I tell you, the sooner we can deal with whatever your reaction might be, and hopefully...you'll still be looking forward to that date on Friday."
I wrap a curl around my finger. "There's no question about that. There is nothing you can tell me about your experience that will change the way I feel about you, okay?"
Doubt flashes in her eyes, but she nods slowly. "Okay."
Ash's portman is still in the penthouse, so after breakfast I offer to retrieve it for her, figuring it will be easier on her to have a little privacy to shower. I find that the whole crew is awake and converged in the penthouse, ahead of Ash and I in getting ready and eager to move on to Madam's mansion. I tell them we are running a little behind because Ash needed to catch up on her sleep and make sure she got her yoga in as well. Kat is anxious, but as I play with Ollie while he hangs in his carrier, I assure her that Trace was right, a good night's sleep was all she needed and she feels great this morning.
"She feels great, huh?" my sister winks at me.
"Yes," I say precisely, holding my hand in front of Ollie with the sign of the horns rock star gesture so he can grab my fingers and improve his motor coordination. "That's right. Yoga has made her feel great this morning, okay?"
"Just yoga," Adam nods in agreement. "Because you two aren't dating, so you wouldn't be..." he trails off suggestively.
"There is more to life than sex, you know, Adam," Tam says breezily, pinning her hair up and gathering her phone, purse, and sunglasses. "Just wait. Soon your baby will not be causing all those crazy hormones spikes that ramps up Mac's sex drive, but literally draining the life out of her," she gestures to her chest, "And stealing your sleep, too. We'll see how sex-obsessed you two are in a few months," She pretends to bite at Ollie's feet. "You're just Daddy's little cockblocker aren't you? You're worth it, though..."
Everyone snickers. "Other Daddy," I sigh. It gets confusing. Tam calls us both Daddy when she's talking to Ollie and we just go with who she's talking about from context. We figure eventually Ollie will make his own labels for us. Tam winces. "Sorry. Yes of course, other Daddy."
"It's okay little man. For me, you are a chic magnet." He waves his tiny fist, and I give him a fist bump.
Tam snorts. "That's true. Things always roll your way, don't they. Listen, can you watch him for a few hours? My car is already here..."
"Uhhh, no? I need to go back downstairs and shower then Mac says Trace and I have to install TV's all day. Where are you going?"
"To the container store for more closet storage stuff and then onto Madam's house, to take delivery of their wardrobe freight. Ben is already there, because the security install started at 7 sharp."
"Okay, so where's Mac's nanny?" I look around. "This is what Mac had her start early for, right? To watch Ollie while we are doing stuff this weekend?"
Tam gives me a tight look. "I sent her out to buy a bouncer seat and a portable crib. Obviously I didn't want to travel with that stuff, and we can just keep it here for future visits."
I wonder why Tam couldn't have kept the nanny here to watch Ollie and picked up those two items herself, since she's already going shopping. Even though I think all that, I refrain from saying it. I've learned that observations like thatâhow Tam could multi-task parenting tasks betterâespecially after the factâjust aren't helpful. Especially between her and me. She'll accept feedback from Ben, but feels like I'm criticizing. So for Ollie's sake, I just let it go.
"Okay, that's fine. I'll bring him down to the suite and Ash and I will tag team getting ready." I turn to Adam. "Don't let us hold y'all up. You guys go ahead. I'll call the concierge and grab a rental car. Ash and I will be there as quick as we can."
Adam's head bobs in easy agreement but Tam is quiet as she helps me gather up Ollie's stuff and I snap his carrier into the stroller. She walks with me to the elevators.
"Leed, we need to talk," she says, as I punch the elevator button.
"Look if this is about Ashlynn helping with Ollie, Jesus Tam, I'll be right there. She's fine this morning, and that was the first time she's blacked out in over nine months, but if you want me to, I'll ask her not to walk around with Ollie while I'm in the shower, just in case she should have another seizure. She will understand because she loves Ollie and will do what's best for him."
"Well that's very responsible of you to think about, so thank you for that, but that's not what I need to talk to you about."
"What?" I ask patiently.
She opens her mouth, then closes it, shakes her head, repeats the whole process.
"Tam, just say it, it's fine. You can tell me whatever you are thinking. I promise I won't get angry. Ollie comes first, you know that. We have to keep be able to talk about everything."
"Fine. What did Ashlynn tell you about her cutting? Because I heard Kat explaining some stuff to Mac last night...about a guy who cut her? And that's not what happened."
A strange prickly heat washes over me. What the fuck dosTam know about Ashlynn's scars? We're in the elevator now, but I don't press a floor and the doors close, suspending us inside. "Why would you say that?"
"Because I saw her cutting, Leed. More than once. While you guys were in Portland. She would come and go from Trace's place. The first time, I was shocked, so I just closed the door and didn't mention. The second time, I tried to talk to her about it, and she went crazy and trashed the whole damn room. She was high. I don't think she remembers. So what Kat was saying last nightâthat somebody did that? It's not true. She did that to herself Leed. And that is not a healthy person. That is a not person that needs to be around our son, okay?"
I shake my head. "Tam...no...that's not right. She was way in over her head, in a kink relationship. The guy was pyscho. He cut her up, and she ran from him."
"I saw it, Leed. With my own eyes. I don't know why she is lying to you all..."
"Easy," I growl. "Be careful who you accuse of lying, Tamara. Because somebody's truth isn't truth, but it's not Ashlynn's."
Tamara tenses. "Are you saying that I'm lying? You think I would actually lie to you about something this important?"
My lips tighten, holding back words, but I can't help the direction my eyes take. I look down at our son. She sees me and understands perfectly.
Trust is a hard thing to win back, and she hasn't got mine. Not yet. She kept her pregnancy secret from me for months, and even when she told me she was pregnant, she knew Ollie was my son and she didn't tell me.
Tamara nods, tilting her head up and blinking rapidly. "Wow. Okay. Fine. You ask her. Point blank ask her if she has ever cut herself. Because your darling, sweet Ashlynn is not what you think. She's not a bad person, I'm not saying thatâbut she's not what you think."
"Then what the fuck are you saying, Tamara?"
"I'm saying...she's mentally ill."
Now I'm really angry, but yelling at my Baby Mama is something I've promised myself I will never do, because we can't make up as easily as a couple that fights. "Don't be ridiculous. She's as sane as you and me. Hell, saner probably, considering all she's been through and come out the other side of. And you are not a fucking shrink. You don't get make judgments about people's mental health, just because they've been through some shit you've never been through and don't understand, okay?"
"I do get to make judgments about what is best for Ollie," she snaps back.
"Not this shit again, Tam," I lose my temper, and though I'm not yelling, I say shit I shouldn't say. "You do not get to use Ollie like a pawn just because you are jealous that I love Ashlynn more than I even knew I could love. This situation we are in...you had a chance to play it differently. I did not. If you had come to me at any time before you married Ben...if you told me you were pregnant with my kid and you wanted us to be a family...you don't think I would tried very hard? We would be in the middle of trying to make it work right nowâjust you, me and Ollie. You were my best friend for eight years, Tam. We had something good, and I cared about you, I really really did. I would have given up my life, my growing feelings for Ashlynn, to do the right thingâfor Ollie to have a normal family, not the kind of crazy fucked up hippie family I had. But you chose Ben, knowing...fucking knowing you were having my kid, and you told me how it was going to be. And you know what? Now I'm so glad, so fucking grateful to the Universe that you love Ben, because it gave me the freedom to find what is right for me, too. But now that you see how I love about Ash, it doesn't sit with you. I don't know why. All I know is you have to live with the choices you made, okay? You love Ben, I love Ashlynn, and you need to get over..." I gesture between us..."whatever this is, cause I'm not feeling it. Not anymore."
"You love her?" Tamara asks, tears pouring freely now.
"Yeah, I do."
"More than us?" she gestures at Ollie.
The alarm on the elevator is ringing. I open the door of the elevator to shut it off, and I see Mac coming down the hall rolling Ashlynn's bagâthe one that I forgot when I had to switch up and take possession of Ollie--her pace slowing as she is reading my tenseness and Tamara's tears.
Mac stops, but I don't. Tam is too upset to care that Mac is watching, and I just want this all out in the open and over with.
"That's not a fair question, Tam. Ollie always comes first. You are the mother of my child. You know I would do anything for you two."
"But you're going to build something with Ashlynn even though I'm scared her mental health puts Ollie at risk of..."
"Of what, Tamara? People go through awful personal shit and hurt themselves in all kinds of ways. It doesn't mean they could ever do anything to hurt someone else. Even if she did cut herself, she would never hurt Ollie. Ever. And she's not that desperate, drug-addicted girl anymore. Are you still the unhappy twenty-two year old model that had an eating disorder and lived on wine and diet pills and cigarettes and practically nothing else? The girl that found a kid younger than her to mess around with because she was scared an actual man her age would call her out on her dangerous habits? The girl that would quietly purge her dinner in the bathroom while I pretended I didn't know? The girl who ran back to New York and wouldn't speak to me nineteen year old me for six months after I finally got worried enough and ballsy enough to confront her about it? Or are you the woman that finally went to a rehab program, stopped obsessing, got healthy, quit modeling, and found happiness in her life? We are not the same people we were. None of us. Ashlynn is not a drug addict. You are not the insecure model with an eating disorder. And TamâI am not your lovesick puppy anymore."
I can see in her face, this is too far. The righteous anger dissolves into full sobs as she shoves Ollie's diaper bag at me and flies out of the elevator, brushing past Mac on her way to the stairs.
"Shit. Tam, babyâfuck that was over the line!" I try to push the stroller out of the elevator but the damn wheel gets on the threshold. "Tam, really, I'm sorry. Come back!"
Mac pivots between Tam's rapidly retreating back and me, muttering. "Fucking hell. Goddammit," under my breath in the elevator. By the time I get Ollie's stroller moving in the right direction, Tam has disappeared down the stairwell and the elevator doors close behind me.
Mac whistles and ambles on toward me, giving me a smirking side-eye as she punches the down button.
I tug at my nonexistent hair.."Fuck. Fuck!" I whisper yell, so I don't scare Ollie. "That's just great. Fucking great!"
"That was fucking inevitable," Mac says quietly. "She's in love with you. She tells herself she's not, but she is."
"She's in love with Ben," I retort.
"Yep, him too," Mac beams at me as we step in the elevator. Mac pushes the mezzanine floor.
I shoot Mac a resentful look. "That's crazy."
"Nope it's true." Other passengers get in and our conversation stops, but when I follow Mac out on the mezzanine and we begin to walk a circuit, me pushing Ollie and her rolling Ash's small pullman, she starts up as if there were no break,
"She's in love with both of you. I don't think she ever really was truly in love with you, though, until Ollie was born. Then you grew up overnight and became Ollie's dad. You're just too beautiful as a father, Leed. So good. It must be nearly irresistible as Ollie's mom not to love you. It must also be very confusing and heartwrenching for her to be in love with two men, no wonder she acts like a bitch all the time now. But maybe now that you've broken her heart and pretty much demonstrated that you love Ash and not her, hopefully Tam will get over you and realize Ben is always there for her, always forgiving her, always choosing her and she will figure out how to give him her whole heart. That would be the best thing for all of you, really. Cause if she stays in love with you...Ben's not the kind of man that can live with that. Maybe for awhile, because he loves her enough to understand that she's in a confusing, emotional place right now...but not forever. And the last thing you need, is for Ben to leave Tam. Then you will have Baby Mama Drama, for sure."
The idea that Tam is in love with me and that Ben might possibly see it like that and leave her makes me want to hurl. I can't be responsible for that shit. For breaking up their marriage. For picking up Tam's pieces. "Oh, god. Tell me you're just fucking with me and you don't really believe that."
Mac crosses her eyes at me, sputters with her lips, and hugs me, patting my abs that are rock hard a the moment, still in the clench of nausea. "I'm sorry, Sweetie."
"Christ, I can't believe I just went off on Tam like that. Fuck!"
"She had it coming, Leed. She's been passive aggressive as shit with you and Ash ever since her wedding. I think it's some kind of fucked up reverse psychology her subconcious is perpetrating. Like she's trying to push you to do exactly what you didâhurt her. Because now that you've hurt her, she can hate you instead of love you."
"She can't hate me. That's no good at all. We have a child together," I hold my hands out to Ollie, sleeping peacefully in the stroller.
"She has to hate you, to stop loving you. So once she gets over loving you, then she'll get over hating you, and you'll be friends again."
I stop and face her. "You really believe all this?"
She squints one eye, then the other, and shrugs. "What the fuck do I know about love, besides how to love my brother and Adam and an unborn baby? Adam on the other hand, knows a shit ton about how all kinds of love works, and this is all his theory. Me, I just noticed you forgot Ashlynn's suitcase and got caught in the middle of your drama."
We've walked the mezzanine and reached the elevator again. When I arrive at my floor, Mac rises on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. "Hey, by the way, I didn't tell Adam about any of the ex-Dom-stalker stuff. Kat shouldn't have told me that, so the buck stops with me. Just so you know..."
"Okay. Oh...by the way...I did tell Ash about my diabetes. Just so you know..."
She nods. "That's good. I worry about you now that I'm not around all the time..."
I pat her belly. "That's not how we roll. I worry about you."
"Dont worry about me. You got way bigger problems. Your drama ain't no joke." Her giggle is pure evil.
"Why you laughin', then?"
"Cause it's funny as shit. The Lion who doesn't date has a Baby Mama and a Girlfriend. Listen...there's one other thing...actually the important thingâthe suitcase was just an excuse to come find you..." Mac's eyes focus down the hall. Ashlynn is walking down it with wet hair, reclothed in her pj's, "Nevermind, it will keep. I probably need to...think about it some more, anyway...do some Internet digging, double tap on some way back Instragram, see if I can piece together the when's and where's..."
"What are you talking about?" I say, as I maneuver out of the elevator, pushing the stroller with one hand and Ashlynn's pullman with the other.
"I have an ideaâwho the ex-Dom stalker might be," Mac mumbles.
The prickly heat returns to my skin. "Who?" I demand.
Mac just gives me an imperceptible shake of the head hisses rapidly "It will keep. We've got enough shit going on, and she's not getting stalked here in Nashville is she? Chill."
"You can't just drop a fucking bomb like that and notâ"
"What bomb?" Ashlynn says, as she bends over Ollie and makes hello baby talk with him, then looks curiously between Mac and I.
"News to him, probably not to you," Mac says. "Leed and Tam just had a huge blow-up. I'm trying to make Leed see that Tam is in love with him and Ben."
"Oh, that," Ashlynn looks slightly troubled. "Yeah, he doesn't see it, because she killed it for him, not telling him about Ollie."
"That and he's a dumbass."
I shoot Mac a bird and she sticks her tongue out at me as the doors slide closed and the elevator engulfs her.
"Baby, Tam and I did have a blow up, but Mac is off base. Tam is not in love with me."
She's pulling Ollie from his carrier, eager as always to get her hands on him. "How could your mommy not be a little bit in love with your daddy, huh? He gave her such a perfect, sweet, gorgeous little Ollie-Pop, yes he did..." Her hips swing as she sachays down the hall, seemingly taking this much more easily than I am and loving on the baby at the center of the drama.
"Sunshine...I feel you're glossing over this. Maybe we should talk about what happened," I struggle to follow her with the stroller and suitcase. I don't want to tell her the things Tam said, but I also don't want to keep them from her.
She turns and walks back to me. "It's okay, Leed. I'm a lot of things, but I'm not insecure about Tam. She's the mother of your child. I get it. There has to be some feeling there, because of Ollie. As long as you can tell me honestly you don't love her like that, then I'm good."
I believe her. There's nothing but sincerity in her voice. She's amazing. She kind and generous and gracious. She's everything.
IÂ meet her in the middle of the hallway, putting my arms around her and Ollie. "I don't love her like that. Like this." With one hand on the back of Ashlynn's head and one on Ollie's back, I kiss Ashlynn like we are lost at sea together. Like we are on top of the Eiffel Tower. Like she's the mother of my child.
Desperate and romantic and deep.
I cling to the moment, because I don't want to move from it. I don't want to work the day away at Madam's mansion and meet the day's end and confront Ashlynn's past, like she's planning. I don't want her to tell me what happened to her. I don't want to hear how a crazy man abused her and carved her like a piece of meat. I also don't want to hear the alternate versionâthat she hurt herself. Would it be better or worse? I'm not sure, all I know is I have to keep my conviction.
Whatever happened, whatever happens, I will be enough.