Page 112 of Fall Into Me

“Appes?” Her bright-blue eyes looked dull with what had to be resignation and exhaustion as she stared up at him.

He nodded, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Yep. Apples and . . . oh, I can make spaghetti, too! Are you hungry?”

She frowned, and a single tear ran down her cheek. “Awwie.”

It hurt again, and for a moment, Ash hated himself. He was always so careful when it came to making sure she had everything she wanted and needed all the time, and whether it was good for her or not, that darn stuffie had become the most important thing to her. The fact that he hadn’t noticed it was gone until it was much, much too late felt like he’d failed her in the worst way.

He didn’t want his brain to go there, but it did—heaping guilt and shame and blame on him until he was suffocating, his chest on fire. If he hadn’t been so distracted when Cass had dropped them off at the airport, if he hadn’t been trying to steal one more kiss—the last he’d have for an undetermined amount of time—then maybe, maybe he would have noticed the missing stuffie. Maybe Bri wouldn’t have been a terror on the flight. Maybe she’d be smiling right now, gleeful to have her second-favorite dinner. Maybe she’d be happy.

His phone buzzed in his hand, but he ignored it for a moment, sat up, and pulled Bri into his lap.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl,” he said, hugging her tightly to him. She hugged him back, her chubby little arms wrapping up around his neck, and though she didn’t say anything, he could imagine she was telling him it wasn’t his fault.

It was. He knew it was. But he definitely appreciated the hug from her, nonetheless.

“Can I make you spaghetti?”

She nodded into him, and he kissed her cheek and stood, lifting her with him. His phone got slipped into his pocket, and he made his way into the kitchen to start cooking and hopefully rid himself of the massive feeling of guilt sitting on his shoulders.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you okay?”

Cass’s three simple words made the sting of the last several hours—a seemingly endless circle of frustration and guilt—fade to a throbbing pulse. Ash sighed and leaned against the kitchen counter, his whole body weak with exhaustion.

“I dunno. Maybe.” He closed his eyes. “Better now that she’s finally asleep. I thought it was never going to happen.”

“Yikes, yeah. What did it take, three hours?”

“About that long, yeah.” Ash didn’t want to count the twenty minutes he’d had to spend cleaning spaghetti off the floor and the half hour she’d fought with him over taking a bath. Nor did he want to count the extra time it had taken to wrangle her into her pajamas or brush her teeth and hair. In truth, the whole evening had been one struggle-fest, and he wished he could just go to sleep. He sighed, settled the phone between his shoulder and ear, and turned on the water in the sink. “Sorry to call so late,” he said quietly. “I guess I needed company to get myself to do the dishes. I can’t fall behind this week. Too much going on.”

“I understand, and honestly, I’m glad you called.” Cass paused, and Ash could almost hear a yearning in his voice when he added, “I really wanted to talk to you.”

Ash stopped with the pot under the faucet, letting the water rinse off the sauce. “You miss me already?” he asked, half teasing. He knew the answer before Cass even said anything.

“I missed you the moment you left.”

Ash’s chest tightened. “This is going to be harder than we thought it would, huh?”

“Maybe.” Cass laughed lightly. “I mean, I didn’t really think it through when I asked you out. I just wanted a chance to get to know you. I still want that. And I think we can make it work. It’ll just take some getting used to, being apart.”

With a nod that he knew Cass couldn’t see, Ash dumped the water out of the pot and started scrubbing it. “Yeah.” A small smile worked its way onto Ash’s lips. He stuck the pot into the dishwasher and said, “I miss you, too. If that wasn’t clear.”

“Just not quite as much as you miss Ollie the Octopus right now?”

Ash snorted a laugh. “Oh my god, that’s awful and also completely accurate.”

He heard Cass’s muffled laugh on the other end of the line. “Ousted by an octopus. It hurts, man.”

He laughed again, and after the day he’d had, it felt good, even if it was a bit silly. He continued loading the last few dishes into the dishwasher as they chatted lightly about other things—their classes and assignments for the upcoming week, the weather, a book Cass wanted to read. When Ash finally slumped down onto the couch several minutes later, the kitchen clean and one chore checked off his to-do list, it was easily after midnight, which he knew didn’t bode well for being functional early in the morning, when Bri would inevitably wake up at six.

Yet he didn’t want to hang up.

“So, yeah,” Cass said, still talking about some book Ash could barely remember the name of, “I had to place a hold on it, which is wild. I don’t think I’ve ever had to do that for a book at our library before. Even a popular book like this one.”

“Mmm.” Ash closed his eyes and shifted onto his back on the couch. He had nothing more to contribute to the conversation, but he just wanted to keep hearing Cass’s voice. He wasn’t ready for the good night he knew was coming. “Tell me about something else,” he said. “Anything.”

Cass hesitated, which made sense given the time and Ash’s odd request. He cleared his throat. “Anything?”