Something about Ash’s presence beside me helped me to drift off into a calm sleep that night. Yet when I woke up the next morning, he wasn’t near me. I longed for him but a pang of guilt hit me. How could I when I was the one that created the physical distance between us?
Fists formed by my side as I got to my feet, heading to the shower. It was a quick ten minutes before I was completely dressed in knee-length jeans and a tank top. Combing my hair into a neat ponytail, I set the comb down and then opened the door.
I could hear voices from downstairs – belonging to Ash and his mother. And I heard my name. Slowly making my way down the stairs, I made out fragments of the conversation they were having. “I’m thinking about taking her out for breakfast. Would that be okay?”
“That’d be fine dear. How are you two coping?”
Before Ash could answer the question, I butted into the room and flashed a timid smile at his mother. “’morning.” Then, I slowly shifted my gaze to Ash who watched me with an unreadable expression on his face.