I should have known better than to have trusted Ash. The result of my mistake? My heart was breaking, tears streaming endlessly down my face as I sobbed uncontrollably. Why did things like these always happen to me?
Resentment, sorrow and fury all crashed into my heart in tidalwaves of mass emotions that I couldn't push away. The impact left me crushed and I didn't know what to do or what was even 'acceptable' to feel right now. Yet, neglecting my emotions, deep inside I knew in that second when Ash saw me, something flashed across his face that couldn't be described.
It wasn't just guilt. It was beyond that. Pain... He'd broken the promise, he'd swore to me that he would never hurt me like that again yet living in the moment, he'd realized it and whatever it caused to him feel was nothing more than remorse towards himself.
Yet again, I was never right about things was I? I didn't want to trick myself into believing anyone again. But the image of Ash's face and the expression written on it never left my mind as I eventually faded off to a troubled sleep.
The sunlight streaming through the wide open curtains pierced my closed eye lids. Groaning, my eyes fluttered open as I blinked repeatedly to adjust to the colors swarming around me. Looking around, I realized I'd fallen asleep on the chair. My legs were tucked in close to my chest and I let go, a sharp pain coursing through my muscles.
Feeling sore, I got up and headed towards the shower, trying to refresh myself quickly before going downstairs to meet Ash as usual.
As the cold water hit me, the familar feeling tore through me as the events of last night flickered through my mind. This time, it wasn't the tears that released itself. I felt blank, empty. But a sudden unease spread through me. It was a sixth sense, intuition almost.
Quickly wrapping the towel around me, I stepped out of the shower and got dressed into a knee-length cotton skirt and a casual tee that went along with it. Before I knew it, I was racing towards his room. Within minutes, I was knocking on it, rapping tightly.
A part of me questioned my remaining sanity. What in the world are you doing Nat? But another just went along with my instincts. Something was different, something was wrong.
Hurrying to the reception, I asked the elder lady at the counter. "Ash Richards, Room 201. Is he still checked in with the hotel?"
She looked through the computer as I impatiently waited for her answer and then shook her head. "He vacated his room this morning."
"Do you have any idea where he went?"
The lady opened her mouth to answer but was cut off by a familiar, high-pitched voice.
"He's on his way back to jolly old America."
I turned around to meet the amused expression on the Spanish guide's face. "What?"
"Well apparently, he's still got a thing for you. Funny how he downed more than three glasses of vodka but still had the sense of not wanting to sleep with me. His loss," she gave me a cat like grin. It was then it dawned on me. She was right. He still cared...I'd seen it with my own eyes.
"Thank you," I said, turning back to the lady at the counter who smiled back.
Before I headed out of the hotel, I said over my shoulder, "You're a really desperate b***h, you know that?" Not waiting for an answer, I raced out the hotel to catch a cab. Time was against me and I needed to get to Ash.