The Therapist's Son // Ashton Irwin [AU] ✔

29.

After splashing my face with cool water and taking two of my anxiety attack pills, I felt a little better.

I was still a wreck, though. I went back in my room and checked the time; it was 6:10. Since my alarm for school wouldn't go off for another fifty minutes, I decided to take a shower.

I took off my pajamas and threw my hair up in a messy bun before I stepped under the steaming, rushing water. I winced at first from the hot temperature, but eventually adapted, thoughts running through my head as my salty tears mixed with the water.

Could it be possible that my mother truly felt that way? I had always felt like she had preferred Ashley over me. I knew Dad blamed me. Why had everyone left except for Michael?

He was right...I didn't understand.

I did my best to shake the dream off; it wasn't real, it was something my mind had only made up. It was fake.

By the time I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off, I felt a little better. My eyes were sore and red and puffy. I was exhausted physically and mentally, but I'd survive. At least I had stopped crying.

Crawling under my blankets and pulling them all over my head, creating a caccoon to protect myself from the outside world, I decided I'd try to get Mom to let me stay home today. I didn't want to go to school. I didn't have the energy or motivation to face my teachers and peers for seven hours straight without a breakdown. I needed time to myself.

I pushed aside all fear of having the nightmare again, closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

*****

I woke up to a pounding on the front door. Figuring Mom would get it, I stayed right where I was. The knocking continued. Groggily, I sat up and walked to the living room. Maybe Mom had gone to run errands or left for work early. Still half asleep with my hair a mess, I swung the door open.

"What?" I questioned, rubbing my eyes.

"Holy shit, are you sick?" Ashton asked me. I shook my head.

"Just sleeping."

"But it's Friday," He said. "You have school today."

"Then why are you here? To talk to my mom? I don't think she's home." I mumbled. If he thought I was in school, why would he be here?

"Its 3 o'clock. I was going to pick you up from school, but you weren't there, so I thought I'd come here to see if you weren't feeling well," He held something out for me to take. "I stopped by the coffee shop and asked Sammy for tea in case you were sick."

I smiled softly, taking the Styrofoam cup from him. I took a sip, and frowned, looking at Ashton questionably.

"Um," He giggled. "I wasn't sure if you like sugar in your tea. I've only seen you drink coffee."

"I always add sugar to my tea and my coffee. I hate bitter drinks," I responded to him. "Are you planning on coming in?"

"Uh...Yeah. I actually need to talk to you about something." He suddenly seemed nervous, which made me nervous. Bad news was the last thing I needed right now.
I went straight to the kitchen cabinets while Ashton sat at the table, tapping his fingers on the placemats. The boy was full of rhythm.

There was a note on the counter from Mom that caught my eye.

Went to work. You seemed tired and since it's Friday, I figured I'd let you sleep. I'll bring home dinner tonight. Love Mom.

I scooped a few spoonfuls of sugar from the sugar bag to my drink, stirring before taking a sip. I had to be careful not to burn my tongue, the liquid was hot. I nodded to myself, satisfied with the result.

"So," I started, putting the sugar in its rightful position and putting the spoon in the dishwasher. "What's up? Is everything okay?"

"Not really." Ashton replied. I sat down, trying to get him to look up at me while he spoke. I gently rubbed his arm, trying to comfort him.

"What's wrong, Ash?"

He sighed, looking the other wall, finding a sudden interest in the kitchen wall.

"You can tell me, you know. I'm not going to judge you," I spoke honestly, meaning every word I said. He had never judged me, and he had proven himself to be an honest person. I would never judge him for telling the truth. I just needed to know what was the matter. "Please tell me."

"I don't know how," His voice broke, and I was scared he was going to cry. "I-I'll lose you, Natalie. I can't."

My breath hitched and my heartrate sped up. Had he cheated on me? Did he do something horrible to Michael? Why would he lose me for being honest?

"Ashton..."

"Do you remember that night when you came to the treehouse? And I...I told you my family died in a car crash?" I nodded, but became confused. Had he lied to get my sympathy? Maybe he knew he was in the wrong because I blamed myself for my sister's death in a car accident. "I said it was late? It was 1 AM."

That was the same time that Ashley and I had been driving. Slowly, I was able to connect the dots, but I didn't want to believe it.

"And...They told me the driver in the other car only had a learner's permit. Her sister was unresponsive," Ashton was crying now, and there were tears in my own eyes. "I-I'm sorry."

"I-I don't believe you." I said, lying. I did believe him. The story was too painful and realistic to be made up, but I needed proof.

"I kept the article." Ashton replied, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out a wrinkled up piece of paper and smoothed it out on the table. In the picture, one car wasn't familiar to me, but the other one, smashed to shit, was the one with Ashley and me inside.

I closed my eyes and prayed to God it was just another nightmare, or a joke. A sick, twisted lie. That at any second, Ashton would start laughing, or apologizing frantically saying he made it up.

I already counted myself responsible for Ashley's death, but now I'm responsible for the death of my boyfriend's family? Why didn't he hate me? How long had he known without telling me?

As if he could read my mind, Ashton said, "Please, Natalie. Don't blame yourself anymore. Dad was tired too, maybe he fell asleep, I don't-"
"How long did you know about this?" I asked, a sudden feeling of horror washing over me.

"I...When I brought you home that night after I tried to get you to drive, and you were in the bathroom, I found the same article."

"And you kept that from me?"

"I had to. You already blame yourself, I thought you'd leave me because of guilt," Ashton said. "But it was an accident."

"Why would you just now tell me then?" I sniffed, running my hands through my tangled hair in frustration. "Why not just keep it a secret forever?"

"Because Michael threatened to tell you if I didn't. I'd rather tell you myself than that asshole."

"Ashton, I...Fuck. Get out." I demanded.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"Get out, Ashton! I need to think, leave."

He nodded, grabbing the newspaper article and shoving it back in his pocket. He walked towards the front door, turning around to face me before he left.

"I love you, Natalie. That isn't going to change. We'll be fine, I promise."

When he walked out, and the front door closed behind him, I broke down in sobs.