Page 34 of For Better or Hearse
“He laughed at me,” she told her dad later. “Not with me.”
And she was right.
Jakob didn’t get her. They were a match made in paisley shirtand plaid pants. Absolutely awful. But the worst part was that Ash let him change her. Let him make her feel bad about herself. Let him shame her for the things she wanted.
Slowly, she got her life back together. She focused on jobs she loved. Not what Jakob thought she should do. The wedding objecting, Nathaniel, were casualties of her relationship. Once her vengeful plot twist was satiated, she found her calling as a death doula.
It’s been a long road.
Finally, she’s set her focus on what matters. Her family. Her dreams. Her freedom. She refuses to give her heart to a man ever again. To be anything but herself for anyone else.
Falling in love did nothing but make her look fucking stupid.
Ever since Jakob, her heart has been wrapped in thorns. Stopping it from blooming. Though she wouldn’t get rid of them if she could. She likes those thorns. They cut. They protect.
She doesn’t love Jakob anymore. She’s haunted by him. Because isn’t that what past relationships are? Ghost after ghost after ghost? And what do ghosts do? They haunt. They linger. They freak the fuck out of people when they least expect it.
Once, when Ash was on a New Orleans ghost tour, she was sure she’d seen a ghost. It crossed the room and held for a heartbeat. That glimpse of possibility, and then it was gone. After, she was left wondering if she was crazy for seeing it. If she imagined it.
That’s what love is.
An apparition.
It exists, until it doesn’t.
From the next room over, Augustus snores.
Does Nathaniel snore too? If so, is it as room-shaking as his grandfather’s? Is his preferred method of murder throttling or suffocation by pillow?
Ash sighs. She’s wide awake. The whirring of her brain won’t be silenced. It’s on a tilt-a-whirl ride to anxiety land, and she’s the lone passenger.
Restless, she rises. Checks her phone. Finds a late-night text from Tessie that asks:Lavalier?
That’s a necklace, preggo, she replies.Not a name.
Ash checks her blood sugar and then tiptoes out of her room. Quietly, she slides open the door to the shared balcony. Steps out barefoot into the gaping dark, leaving her darker thoughts behind.
In front of her, the white sand beach is just visible. The salty ocean breeze and tropical flowers are fragrant in the balmy night air. The moon shines with bright uncertainty, illuminating the jagged peaks of Diamond Head.
It’s so unlike LA. No street noise. No sirens. No arguments over parking spots. Except for the crash of waves on the beach, there’s silence.
Ash peers over the balcony at the beach below.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. For reasons I don’t understand, my grandfather seems to like you.”
At the grating voice, she tips her head back, groaning. She can’t escape him.
In the dim light, she squints. Finds Nathaniel. He sits in a deck chair, clad in gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt.
“Lurking in the dark?” Why is she not surprised he blends in so perfectly with the shadows?
“It took you long enough,” he says dryly, rising, “to realize you weren’t alone out here.”
She arches a brow. “Planning your attack?”
He laughs, a husky, calm sound. “Not yet.”
“We’re on the same sleeping schedule.” She bats her eyes at him. “This could get messy.”