Luke's P.O.V
It's been twelve missed calls, four voicemails, a Simpsons marathon, and a shower since I last saw Ashton. Michael hasn't talked to me since, he stormed off in an emabrassed flurry after we left Ashton's apartment. I was alone in my thoughts, my mom chatting mercilessly on the phone downstairs. If only I could get out of here.
After I heard my mom go silent and Dr. Phil blare throughout the house, I rolled off my bed and dragged myself down to her. For the first time in years, I sat on her lap and cried loudly into her shoulder. She muted the television and simply rubbed my back, waiting for me to calm down before she asked. It took a minute, but soon my breathing was ragged and my throat burned.
"What is it, Luke?" She asked, pushing my long legs off her.
"Ashton." It was all I managed to breathe, his name caused my heartstrings to break apart.
"I thought he was in California?"
"Home early." More deep breathing.
"Are you still dating Michael?" She stood up and disppeared into the kitchen, rummaging for something.
"Ashton didn't know." I yelled.
"And he found out?" Judgement. That's all I heard.
"We went to his apartment, I thought it was empty." My voice returned to normal.
"What did Ashton say?" She returned, holding her favorite bottle of wine and two glasses.
"He was pretty damn mad." I choked up again.
"How do you feel about Ashton?" She filled both glasses, handing one to me. I stared at her in confusion, but she insisted.
"He was hurt, mum. Harry hurt him really bad and Ashton was hurt and I should've been there to comfort him. I should've been there to cuddle him and kiss him and tell him how much I love him, but I can't! Instead, I made petty conclusions and did things I can never take back. He hates me." My voice cracked, and I washed it away with the wine.
"He can't hate you, you loved each other very much. I think the only thing you can do is let him know how sorry you are, even if it hurts your ego. You know, whenever I had a broken heart, I would always sneak a bottle of Grandma's Pinot Noir and watch Seinfield until I couldn't cry anymore." She wrapped her arms around me again, and I hugged her as tight as I could.
After a few episodes of Gilmore Girls on Netflix and a glass or two of wine, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. My mum laid me on the couch and trudged up to her own bed, but not before kissing my forehead goodnight.
I imagined going to Ashton tomorrow, apologizing, him wrapping his strong arms around me and saying he loves me before drifting to sleep. And, suprisingly, it was the first night of good sleep since he left in the first place.
