Surprise Me Tomorrow

20. Lapse

Ashton and I agree to talk on Friday evening, after Chloe is asleep. Instead of letting him inside, we go back to our old habit: midnight convo in my driveway. It feels like a decade ago when we had a heart-to-heart talk, when Ashton finally had the gut to say he wanted me back after the painful breakup. And now here we are. Again.

The cold has stung like a bitch in these past weeks, and we will need to endure the harsh weather until March comes, or later. I grab my teddy coat when I see Ashton's car slowly entering my driveway. Putting the hoodie on and hugging the coat into my chest, I jog down to his passenger door.

He looks like shit in his black suit, his tie loose and hanging unevenly around his neck. I probably look as crappy, but at least I don't feel the anger when I see his face again.

"How was the trip?" I ask.

"Fine. Just a couple of events, dinners, and stuff," he says, looking at me intently. I can see the longing in his eyes, or is it regret? "I went with Andy and Jessie, just to make sure you know. And it was strictly for work."

"Oh," I say, ignoring the twist in my gut. "Okay."

"How're you feeling?" he asks.

I shrug, playing with the button on my coat. "Could be better. And you?"

"Like shit. I couldn't focus and needed to talk to you to ensure you were okay."

"I'm sorry for dodging you. I just didn't want to regret saying what I would say because I lost my temper. You know how ugly it could have been."

"I'm sorry for what happened, Char," he says. "I know I said this and I will say it again: It was nothing like what you think. Jessie confided in me that evening. She lost her case, and her ex-husband took everything. The house, the money, and the company share. Then she cried, and I tried to comfort her."

"By hugging her and rubbing her back while she pressed her body against you, behind a closed door," I say calmly. It's more to prove my point instead of cornering him.

"Char, I was just trying to be a good friend in her time of need. But I swear it was nothing sexual."

At this point, his emotional bond with her sounds more intimidating than any physical involvement. "If she needed a kiss for comfort, would you give her that too?"

"No. That would be too far," he says, glancing at me. "I never did more than hug her. As a friend."

Picturing how intimate they looked that evening, jealousy starts to give me dull jabs. "It wasn't the first time you hugged her, was it?"

It takes him a few seconds before he nods. "She came to me a few days earlier, panicking that she probably lost the case, then she wailed. I needed to snap her out of the panic state. But I swear nothing is going on between us."

If my heart has been sore from the aching, now it feels like being stabbed by a knife. I thought I would be ready for this talk. I was so wrong. "Did I cross your mind at all when she was in your arms? Did you feel slightly guilty?"

"I–" he pauses, frowning as if he's trying to process my question. "To be honest, no. I didn't feel guilty because I wasn't cheating on you."

"So, you thought I wouldn't mind if I saw you cuddle with a woman in a room, behind a closed door."

"I know the situation made it look more intimate than it actually was, but it was because I couldn't push her away. I was going to wait until after she calmed down, but then you walked in. You misunderstood us the second you saw us, and you didn't even give me a chance to explain."

"You bashed Dickson's face when you thought he was sleeping with me. You didn't ask or check the news with me first."

"You know it was different. He claimed he slept with you multiple times. And we weren't together at that time." He shifts in his seat, facing me. "But we are committed to each other now. We've passed the insecurity phase in our relationship."