Chapter 11
Ashley
FOURTEEN HOURS.
Eight hundred forty minutes.
Fifty thousand four hundred seconds.
Time passes and Landon hasn’t reached out to me. My mind’s heavy with regret. Heavy with sadness. I’m not angry or disappointed. Landon needs space to figure things out and I should be fair and give that to him.
Mama doesn’t know what to say to me so she makes me a cup of tea and sets it on the coffee table. I stare at the floral print cup and hate it. The brightness is making me so dizzy with anger that I want to pick it up and throw it across the living room.
My soul’s turning into dust and our song doesn’t play anymore. The pinch in my heart comes back. It’s on a repeating cycle every five minutes. The sting is so fierce and I feel it. I feel every pure hell. Yet, I welcome it. It’s telling me I’m still alive and I need to figure out what I’m going to do. The more I’m sitting here, away from Whiskey, the emptier and more scared I become.
My phone vibrates and I quickly check it. The text message is from Memphis, asking if he can come over.
Me: Actually, can I come over?
Memphis: Yeah, of course.
Me: Can you do me a favor?
Memphis: Anything for you.
Me: Can you go to Landon’s and pack some of my things? Kemper’s going over there tomorrow to get the rest of my clothes, but I need some stuff now.
Memphis: Sure thing, doll face. Anything else?
Me: Make sure you have everything that’ll cure a broken mess.
Memphis: I got you, girl.
An hour later, I’m sitting with Memphis on his leather couch, watching reality TV, sharing a plate of French fries smothered in ranch, cheddar cheese, and bacon. Both of us have a beer and I’m pretty sure this is my . . . third . . . no, fourth one. Yes, I, Ashley Monroe, am most likely tipsy on my fourth . . . no . . . going on my fifth beer.
“Wooooo!” I cheer and shove more fries in my mouth.
Memphis yanks the plate away and tries to grab the beer bottle, but I’m faster and chug it down. When I put the empty beer bottle down, he swats my hand and shakes his head.
“What? Phis, give me another beer. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve vegged out? I had to count calories and never ate anything fried or with sugar. My diet was strict as hell and now that it’s not, you better give me another beer and make more fries. Oh God, these are so good.”
“I don’t think so, honey.”
“Don’t honey me!” I yell and push him so that I can get up from the couch and try to walk. The room’s a little busy and I slowly sit back down. “You never told me what Landon said when you went to get my things.”
“He asked how you’re doing. I told him we’re getting together tonight with food to make you feel better. He smiled, but I know that he misses you.”
“How do you know that?” I spit out.
“First, he’s one of my best friends, and second, anyone can see how much he loves you. You’re doing the right thing by giving him space and time.”
“I’m trying,” I whisper and play with strands of my hair to keep my hands busy. “How much time should I give him?”
Memphis doesn’t answer right away until he puts away his phone and nods. “Why don’t you get ready, so I can take you out? Leigh and Shelby are at the bar so we could meet them there, or later tonight at the diner.”
“Let’s go to the bar,” I mutter, getting up and grabbing my bag by the door.
Earlier, Memphis went to Landon’s and packed what he thought I’d want. Asshole doesn’t give me a variety and I have only three outfits, all my pj’s, underwear, and bras, at least I can look somewhat decent. Part of me hopes Landon will be there, and the other part hopes I won’t see him. It’ll be too hard to see him this soon. I need time to figure things out and come up with another plan. If one is possible.
After we get ready, Memphis puts his arm around my shoulders and kisses the side of my head. “It’s going to be all right.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Don’t have that attitude, Ash. You’re not putting yourself in his shoes. All that you’re thinking about is yourself and what you want.”
When people say the truth hurts, they’re right. It stings to hear how selfish I’ve been. I’m the one who left, and I’m the one who’s invading his space and trying to push myself back into his life.
“What do you think I should do?”
Memphis takes a moment to think, scratching his chin and being overly dramatic with his thinking gestures. “Maybe try being his”—intense pause—”friend.”
“Right. Friend. I can do that.”
For some reason this makes Memphis laugh, so I punch his arm and grab his beer from his hand. After finishing it, I see him looking at me.
“What?”
“We need to come up with a better plan for you. Mission get Landon Fisher back. But, this will only work if you give him space.”
“Space. Okay. I can do that.”
“Really?” He hurries up and grabs me by the arms so we’re facing each other. “So, I didn’t want to tell you this, but Leigh texted me, and she said Landon’s at the bar . . .” He pauses and I’m about to fall apart because I have a feeling I know what he’s about to say based on his tone and expression. “With Magnolia.”