First Time ~ Argument

“You’re leaving?”

Ash froze, hand fisted around the door handle of his truck, a meager scattering of his shit tossed in the back. How the hell had she woken? It’d taken him twenty minutes to crawl out of the bed, waiting between each tiny movement just so she wouldn’t stir. He didn’t even remember what he’d packed. Socks. His badge. That fucking gun. The door hadn’t so much as creaked when he’d ventured outside, absently throwing his belongings in the back, not really caring where they landed. He’d been careful. Strangely removed.

Her footsteps scuffed across the porch, the familiar creak of the step constricting his chest. God, how many times had he promised to fix that damn staircase? Pausing at the bottom, head shaking, only to have her launch into his arms, her easy laughter making him smile? He turned to her, knowing he owed her something, secretly wondering if he had anything left to give.

She stood on the top stair, his shirt wrapped around her as she crossed her arms over her chest, her bare feet shifting on the wood. Tears dotted her cheeks, his note scrunched in her hand.

“Shit, Cass. It’s October. You’re going to freeze dressed like that.”

Her chin quivered, more tears spilling down her cheeks. “You sneak out of our bed, pack up your stuff and leave, and you’re worried if I’m going to catch a fucking cold!” Her voice rose with each word. “Do I mean that little to you?”

Anger burned through his veins as he took a single step toward her. “I left you a note.”

She laughed, the sound on the verge of hysterics, as she raised the crumbled sheet in her hand, shaking it. “A note? We’ve been together four years, and you leave me a god damn note?”

“What do you want from me?”

“Talk to me, Ash. Let me inside instead of shutting me out.”

Ash frowned, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he looked away. “There’s nothing left for you to save. I’m…” The images floated through his head, the voices whispering to him. “I just need some time. To get my head straight.”

She choked back a sob, pursing her lips. “I’ll give you whatever space you need. Hell, I’ll move into the spare room if it’s what you want. I won’t pressure you, just…” Her voice cracked as her eyelids fluttered close for a moment. “Ash. Please.”

The man inside him cringed, screaming at him. Begging him to ease her pain, to grow some fucking balls and do the right thing. “I don’t want to leave… You know I love you.”

“Then don’t go. Stay. With me. We can work through this.”

“Cass… God.” He clenched his hands at his side. “I can’t.”

He turned, opening the door, pausing with one hand on the frame, the other white-knuckled around the handle. The steps creaked behind him, her hand lightly touching his back.

“Are you coming back?”

His muscles tensed from the contact, a roll of nausea churning his gut. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

She inhaled sharply, the raspy sound like a knife to his soul. He waited for her to hit him. To scream. Anything. Some fucking thing. Her breath whispered through the air behind him before the stairs creaked again. He willed himself to get in the damn truck, to drive. But he couldn’t stop from glancing over his shoulder at her. She stood on the bottom step, her back to him, one arm wrapped around her stomach as if she were trying not to throw up. A sob shook her body before she turned, her pain nearly taking him to his knees.

“You know what? Go. Run away, you fucking coward!” Tears streamed down her face as she forced in endless quick breaths. “But it doesn’t matter how far you go, you can’t leave this behind, Ashton. It’ll haunt you. Eat you alive until every trace of the man is gone, and you’re nothing but a hollow shell.”

She stomped up the stairs, then spun again, heaving out a sob. “You’re not the only one who lost anything! I loved Ben, too! And now you…” She snagged her lower lip, physically drawing herself up. “But I won’t let this beat me.”

She heaved again, palming her mouth as she turned and stumbled back into the house, slamming the door behind her. He took a step toward the porch, the echo of gunshots stopping him cold. They rattled inside his head, the metallic tang of blood surrounding him.

I’ll take the rear, buddy. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. Just like always.

He turned to the truck, all but shoving himself behind the wheel. She’d be better off without him. A day. A week. She’d forget, and her love would fade, just like him.