Chapter Twenty-One : shout out loud

Ashley, rubbing at her eyes and stumbling down the stairs, felt different in the morning. It was a gorgeous morning, soft and warm and welcoming, and she felt changed in that early light. It wasn't the sort of drastic, life changing feeling; it didn't make her see things in a totally different light and it sure as hell didn't make her want to do anthing different. But she could see. She could really see for the first time in a long time- without the blurs of real or imagined expectations and without the complications of twisted love.

She could see past the present.

And as she pulled her hair into a messy bun and padded into the kitchen she saw something she hadn't been expecting- Paul was sitting at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of coffee and the newspaper. It was a regular ocurence, but Ashley had expected him to be conked out on the couch. He tilted his head back for the regular morning kiss, but Ashley had stopped in her tracks. She shook out of quickly and smiled gently, but didn't move toward him. Instead, she went to the counter. She heard the thunk of Paul's coffee on the table and the flutter of the dropped newspaper.

"Ashley." She kept pouring coffee. "Do you want to talk about this? The way you've been acting for the past week? You've been...distant." She didn't answer. She poured creamer into her coffee. "Ashley." A pause. "Is this about the wedding?"

"It's not cold feet, Paul." She answered, finally, and turned to him, shaking sugar into her mug. She grabbed a spoon he had left out for her and started stirring. "It's something else." She was cold, suddenly. She hated this.

It was happening. A month in coming and here it was, quite suddenly, bearing down on her, bearing down on him.

"What is it." It was barely a question, it was asking for knowledge he didn't want to hear. It was asking for his own doubts to be spoken aloud. Ashley abandoned her coffee on the counter.

"Paul, you know that-"

"It's just cold feet, Ash. Just sit down, come on, calm down." He must have heard something in her tone, some warning, because he started grasping blindly. It hurt, because she was done grasping. She was calm. It was wrong.

"Paul, I'm so sorry-" He chopped off her sentence, cold anger in his voice.

"No you don't get to do this-"

"It's not gonna work, we're not gonna work. I don't want to hurt you, but I can't marry you." She met his eyes, his growing angry eyes, and she moved forward as he moved up out of his seat. She stilled by the bar.

"One more day Ashley! One more! You waited until now?!" He was yelling now, swinging his arms out and Ashley would have been scared except it was Paul.

"I didn't know, I didn't know until now, until it was here, and I can't do it."

"It's cold feet, that's all it is." Something in his voice said it wasn't. Ashley took a short breath, and when she spoke next her voice was so soft and so truthful that it literally froze Paul.

"I can't love you like you deserve. I can't love you." There was a long pause.

"Ashley you cannot do this. You cannot leave me. This is-this is crazy. We're getting married." He bypassed her last sentence. She was crying, his eyes were welling, this was so wrong.

"I have to. I have to leave."

"You don't just-it's not right."

"I'm in love with someone else."

The world stopped. It was so silent, no sound, just Paul's shock and his disbelief.

"I can't believe you." Ashley was crying, tears that she couldn't feel. She didn't know why she was crying, but she was close to sobbing as her plans crumbled before her. As Paul's heart crumbled before her. So wrong.

"I'm sorry."

"You're not who I thought you were." Paul brushed past her, into the foyer. Scooping up his coat and his keys. "I'll be back in a couple hours and I expect you to actually make some sense then." The door opened. "This is just cold feet." The resounding slam made Ashley jump a little. Seconds passed in silence and she stopped crying. She didn't deserve to cry.

But she had said it. She had started the end. And the beginning.

God, it didn't feel real.

IOIOIOI

Nine fifty-three. Her phone said it was nine fifty-three and her foot beating an uneven time on the cement told her she was way to nervous. But the thing was, she couldn't have been nervous enough. This was it. This was admittance.

She was nervous.

So nervous her hands were sweating and her fingers were shaking a little when she pulled out her phone to check the time again. Nine fifty-four. Seconds passed as slowly as they could, just to drive her insane. They ticked by, counting away the moments where her life was the same and counting down to the moment when everything would change.

She didn't know if it really would.

She still didn't know about the kiss- what it had been about. Maybe it had been a drunken mistake, or an act of desperation, a short escape. But she knew she could forgive Spencer for it, because if one person understood desperation it was Ashley. But if it had meant something to Spencer, because maybe Ashley didn't mean enough, then Ashley didn't know what would happen.

But she wasn't going to back out now.

She had just left Paul and she would be lying if she said it was all for Spencer. But she would be lying if she said the blonde girl didn't have something do with it. They were all wrapped up, all too close. She needed her here, now. To make things sane and to promise some sort of future.

She waited.

Bounced her foot up and down to a silent beat and checked her phone every other minute. The clouds slowly started to clear and the warm sun slid out, its rays rolling over her body. The grass turned a few shades greener. The moms and the kids and the dogs came out and she sat on her and Spencer's bench. And tapped her foot.

Sometime after eleven thirty, she realized Spencer wasn't coming. She realized it, but she still didn't leave. She slid quickly into denial and learned she was very good at it. The sun grew even warmer and the grass greener and her heart squeezed in her chest until she knew it would burst, but she didn't move. Her foot stopped moving. Her phone stayed in her pocket.

At twelve thirty, she stood up and walked away. She was stronger. It came like a wave, washing over her and crashing, leaving her with abilities she hadn't known she'd had. She was strong. And even if she did need Spencer a little (a lot), she could make it. No tears fell. Things changed.

IOIOIOI

"I knew." Were the first words Ashley heard when Paul walked into the kitchen, still in his coat, keys clutched in his hands. Ashley was staring out the window into the backyard where she had fled after she and Spencer had first-she couldn't move anymore. She was frozen by rejection, which never happened. But this was Spencer and she should have been used to the "never"s that were occurring more and more frequently.

"You knew." Ashley echoed, but it held a hint of accusation, a meaning all its' own.

"I knew, but I tried not to." Paul continued, keys jingling as he moved them through his fingers. Ashley was facing him now, but his eyes were lost and away from her. "I thought I loved you Ashley, but I don't know anymore. I don't think this is cold feet."

There was silence.

"I'm sorry, Paul." Ashley's voice was pure apology, pure truth. He nodded absently. "I should have said something sooner, I shouldn't have waited until now. It's not cold feet." His keys stopped jingling.

"I'm gonna leave. I'm gonna go to a hotel and stay, and I'm gonna- not see you for a while. If this changes, if any of this changes- well, I don't know. I don't know if that will help anything." He was looking at his feet then, but he brought his head up and met her eyes. "I don't know what to think." Every word was carefully expressed, calmly stated, and Ashley wasn't hurt by it. It didn't feel as wrong anymore. It felt a long time coming. "I'm gonna, uh, I'm gonna come back tonight, around seven. Please don't be here. And the wedding. Call it off."

"Okay." Ashley agreed quietly, but she didn't think he heard her. He was gone seconds later, out in a flight of footsteps and the quiet shut of the door. She turned back in her chair and busied herself staring out the window, watching the grass sway. Thinking about Spencer and the way things would be. Should have bee.

Around five, she left.