Page 22 of The Road Back Home
I frown at the picture on the screen and murmur that I’ll be back.
Confusion wars with eagerness. Holden usually texts before calling, but I almost don’t want to question it.
I want to hear his voice. So I wait until I’m outside in the brisk morning air, I press the Accept button and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hey, babe, what’s up?”
“Move in with me.”
The words are a rush, a gust of air that barely forms intelligible sounds. I can’t have heard him right.
“Excuse me?”
“Move in with me.”
“Holden, wh—what are you talking about?”
His sigh crackles down the line, and I chew on my lower lip and step out of the way of a couple approaching the door.
My heart pounds beneath my ribs; I walk on shaky knees to the table at the end of the sidewalk.
The cold of the metal chair seeps through my jeans, and I shiver before swallowing, forcing myself to relax.
“I want…” Holden clears his throat then speaks in a rush, “Fuck, okay, I was sleeping like people normally do at night, and I had the most amazing dream. You lived here with me, and we were happy. Dee, it was so realistic that when I woke up, I was honestly upset that it wasn’t real.
It hurt that it was nothing more than a dream.
So this is me asking you to make it real. Move in with me.”
I swallow down the tears that threaten to break free. “Holden, we’ve only been dating for, like, six months.”
“True, but we’ve known each other for longer.” His accent thickens, though whether it’s the remains of sleep or something more, I don’t know. “We became friends nine months ago, and we’ve been sleeping together for eight. And didn’t we learn that we work ?”
“It was a week, babe,” I counter with a weak laugh, and God, does it kill me to be making this argument. “It wasn’t forever, and it’s not exactly enough time to figure that out.”
“Did you have any doubts about how well we got on?”
I blow out a breath—I hadn’t. But the distance between us means he isn’t always inundated by the pressures and responsibilities of being a stand-in parent.
He doesn’t have to struggle with the whims, the tantrums, the difficulties of raising a toddler.
He doesn’t have a neglectful ex-stepsister to battle with.
The reality of the situation is so very different up close, and what if it’s too much for him to handle?
My thoughts move from the worries I carry to what it could be like living with him. Being with him regularly. Waking up in his bed and falling asleep in his arms. My mind fights against itself. One part says yes, do this. The other…
The pleading in his voice could be my undoing, but I won’t let it. I can’t. I can’t just uproot myself and leave what I know behind. I can’t just abandon Ashton to the system when I am so close to giving him what he needs.
“You’re right. I didn’t doubt us. But Holden, I can’t make any decisions right now. Not until after the hearing regarding the custody. After that…”
“I’m not asking for an answer right now,” he rushes to assure me. “I just want you to think about it. Please. I can wait.”
I promise to do as he asked—to truly consider my desires and the reality my wants weigh against. Relief paints his voice when he thanks me, and I hurry to end the call. Luci needs to get back to work, and I know I’ll only grow more confused if I continue talking to Holden.
Luci looks up once I step back inside, and her brows draw together. “What happened?”
“He asked me to move in with him.”
“Don’t leave,” Luci orders when the bell over the door jingles and another patron walks in. I shuffle to the table where Ashton still sits. Luci greets the new customer then says over her shoulder to me, “We are so talking about this.”
I don’t hesitate to obey; I listen to Ashton as he plays with the two halves of a danish crush, crashing them into each other as if they were his toy cars.
Cherry glaze and cream cheese cover his face, but I can’t find it in me to care.
All I give a damn about is the fact he’s happy.
His eyes shine with the joy of being in one of his favorite places, having fun, safe .
I exhale tremulously, swiping a finger under my eyes.
Luci drops into the seat next to Ashton after a few minutes. “Okay, called Tris. He’ll be here in, like, ten. But I’m too impatient to wait for details. So. Holden asked you to move in.”
“Yeah. Like, as soon as I answered the call. It was literally the first thing he said.”
“And what did you say?”
“I told him it was nuts. Well, not in those words, but I definitely made it clear I think it’s unfeasible. It wouldn’t really work. A week-long stint of playing house isn’t enough time to know for sure whether we’d survive living together.”
“Oh, honey.” Luci peels my hands away from the pastry I’m currently tearing apart. Her dark eyes full of sympathy, she forces me to meet her gaze. “You guys have made it work so far, with the distance and conflicting schedules. Living with him would only make it easier, right?”
“Maybe? I dunno. He’d be gone regularly for tours and stuff, so…” I shake my head and look away from her too-earnest expression. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Like I told him, I can’t do anything right now. I have the hearing coming up. And if the judge says no, I… I can’t go. I can’t leave Ash.”
“He’ll understand.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because that boy is head over heels for you. If he’s been so patient with the fact Ash comes first, that’s proof enough, I think.
How many calls have you had to cancel for little dude?
And when you were with Holden, how often did you call home and he didn’t do anything but give you space?
He came over on Thanksgiving and took care of Ashton while you cooked.
I know literally no other dude who would do half that for someone they were sleeping with, whether they loved them or not. ”
“I can’t leave Ashton, Luci.”
“So tell Holden . Let him know, and y’all can figure it out like mature adults.”
Tristan has much the same advice, though he makes it clear that he thinks I would be making a mistake if I say no. His expression softens as I avert my gaze, and he reaches for my hands. My lips quiver though I try to smile as steadily as possible.
“Go call your man, girl. Tell him you’re in love with him but just need some time.”
“He knows I need time,” I retort before my brain catches up, registers what he’s said. “You’re a freakin’ sneak.”
“It’s because I know you so well. Now, go.”
I give him a watery giggle and push to my feet.
Tristan stays with Ashton while I carry the plates to the bin.
After dumping the scraps of danish, I set the plate on the cart and duck behind the counter to hug Luci tight.
I have too much to think about, but I know I can count on my two best friends whenever I hit a wall. Whenever my own mind gets in the way.
As I drive home with Ashton in the backseat, I let myself imagine. Let myself admit… Living with Holden can only help our relationship to grow. I wouldn’t always have an empty bed to lie in, an empty apartment to come home to. I want that. Damn it, I do.
But I meant it: Leaving Ashton isn’t an option. It has never been an option, and it will never be. It might be self-centered to think, but I know I’m the biggest reason he’s doing as well as he is.
Sure, if the judge says ‘no’, if they say Katie can’t sign away her rights to me, Ashton could go into foster care, where he might have a shot at a good life. I am aware I would most likely never see him again if that happens. I’d have to say a goodbye that would kill me.
Or he’d go to Paige who would do her best to protect him and raise him right. She would let me see him as often as I want, and I wouldn’t be able to see Ashton if I lived in Tennessee. The thought terrifies me.
Somehow, I get through the day without crumbling under the weight of my thoughts.
I put Ashton to bed, sitting on the floor at his bedside for almost half an hour before clambering to my feet.
The hinges squeak quietly as I pull the door shut behind me.
I slowly lower myself to sit on the couch and stare at the dark screen of my television.
Now that I’m alone, now that Holden has changed everything by asking me to move in, I’m not sure what I want for my life anymore. Ashton, always. Protection and a wonderful future full of potential. That’s what I want for him.
But should it be me?