The Mix Up (Ashley Purdy Love Story)

In The End

Like he had promised, Ashley was there when I woke up. I shuffled out of my bedroom, scared to actually face him after what had happened earlier. I had said some pretty bad stuff to him and he still said that he loved me. How could he do that? After I had openly said that I thought he was cheating on me? I wanted answers but at the same time I wanted to stay wrapped in my blanket and forget the world.

"Morning." Ashley brightly said when I entered the kitchen.

I halted in my steps. Ashley was standing over the stove, muffins on as he carefully took out the boiling bacon. I bit my lip as he placed the pan on the counter and turned to face me, a smile that had seen many trials lighting up his face.

"Morning." I muttered and sat on the high stool for the counter.

My car keys were still where I had left them and bile rose in my throat. As if on reflex, my hand reached out and threw the keys, as forcefully as I could, away from me. Ashley watched on in shock as the keys connected with the mirror in the leaving room and shattered the glass. We were silent, soaking in what we left unsaid, before I finally moved and headed towards the living room.

"I'll clean it up." I murmured as I crouched down and began to pick up the glass, uncaring for the fact that I could get stabbed.

"At least be smart about it." Ashley grumbled as he too crouched beside me and handed me a rag to pluck the glass with.

Together we picked up the pieces. Ashley said nothing and I enjoyed the silence, just wanting his comfort in the physical way at the moment. Maybe later I would want to hear what he had to said, and maybe I'd want to hear how fucked up I was being, but right now I couldn't stand to hear that. I just wanted to lay in misery and let myself take blame for what had happened in the bathroom.

When all was finished, we sat on the couch and watched TV. Ashley munched on his bacon and offered me some, which I gladly took and swallowed whole. I haven't eaten as much lately and God did that taste good.

Ashley shifted a little and before I knew it, I was being pulled into his lap and his fingers were threading through my hair. I wanted to fight it, to not accept this feeling because of what I had done, but my body objected and laid still, allowing Ashley to touch me so intimately and so perfectly. This is what I have been craving for, I realized as my eyes drooped and I was pulled into the blackness known as sleep.

...

A few days turned into weeks which then turned into two months. For two months Ashley stayed with me and babied me and helped me see that it wasn't my fault that Alex had died. It took two months for me to even accept his advances and two months for me to peck Ashley on the cheek.

Deep down I still felt guilty about everything. Every touch with Ashley reminded me that I hadn't been there for Alex, and on some bad days I would lash out on Ashley. He would take it before he would dish out what I deserved, and in the end we were both feeling rejuvenated. It was a horrible cycle but it happened.

Ashley and I spent our days laying on the couch or going outside to do something atleast physically active. I didn't like leaving the house and leaving behind what little I had left of Alex, but Ashley managed to persuade me out of my bedroom and into the sun.

Cassandra would usually meet us for coffee, forcing a smile on her face and pretending to be having the best time of her life as her career took off. She was being interviewed seemingly every week about her first published book and there was already talk about it being made into a production; just like Alex had predicted. I knew Cassandra was taking it the hardest between us both, which was hard to imagine since I had a mental break down.