23. Ash

TWENTY-THREE

"I'm going to kill him, Fox," Derek warns, and Fox lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Ash!" He turns to me. "Knock it off. You're driving everyone crazy." I lift my hand off my metal station where I"ve been tapping my pencil for five—or maybe fifty minutes. I have no idea.

"Sorry," I grumble while tossing the pencil on the station and sitting forward, resting my head in my hands. "Has Janie or Ren said anything yet?" I ask for probably the hundredth time in the last two hours. Sunday's having her surgery today, and no one is keeping me in the loop because according to my sister:

"You didn't want to be her boyfriend, so you don't get to ask boyfriend things."

Knowing how her surgery is progressing isn't a boyfriend thing; it's wholly platonic and neighborly. At least, that's what I'm choosing to believe. And also, how dare my baby sister side with the girls over me.

"I told you," Fox groans while looking up from placing a stencil on Mari's bicep. "Janie will call once they're done and she gets her home."

Mari decides to chime in. "If you have such a hard-on for her, why not be in the waiting room?" I roll my eyes at the woman. Mari is Neil's daughter. She'd been unable to make it to the wedding due to her job as a fucking superhero, seriously. Mari is part of Doctors Without Borders and has spent the last two years in Guinea-Bissau working in both women's health and pediatrics. There aren't many humans alive that would willingly go into what looks like a literal nightmare and then stay there. But she did. She returned a couple of days ago and came here to give me a hard time and talk with Fox about a tattoo she wants.

"I don't have a hard-on for her," I say defensively while standing up to look over the floral stencil on her arm. "What are these flowers again?"

"This one is the Vernonia Djalonensis," she states simply. "It's the national flower of Guinea and will be purple. And this one is a Violet, for yours truly." She smiles brightly, and I roll my eyes. "And this little tufted guy is the Izote, the national flower of El Salvador. My plan is to get a tattoo for each country I visit."

"When are you headed out again?" Atlas asks as he wheels over to us.

"Three days," she breathes out. "I leave here to head up to see my dad and Celeste after this, and then they're taking me to the airport."

"Damn, not even enough time to get laid," Atlas says while shaking his head. "I would've figured– My princess!" He grins widely as Ren and Wade walk in from the back. Atlas walks over and kisses Ren softly before falling to his knees and kissing her stomach. Seeing how in love he is with Ren and their unborn child warms my heart. It's something I find myself growing increasingly envious of, which is weird and unsettling.

"How are you both?" he asks excitedly while standing.

"Nauseous, I don't recommend kissing me again after I go to the bathroom. Janie called." My head snaps to Ren as she speaks. "Everything went fine, I'm going to... Ugh... I'm going to vomit like seven times, and then I'm taking Wade to go get… Oh god!" Ren runs toward the bathroom while gagging.

"I feel so bad," Atlas sighs after his wife. "I wish I could vomit for her."

Derek furrows his brows. "I guess that's romantic, in the most disgusting way possible."

"At, I can take Wade and pick up Sunday," I say, earning an uh huh lookfrom Mari.

Atlas looks from me to the bathroom and shrugs. "Yeah, okay, sometimes Ren gets on a roll puking, and it just doesn't stop."

"Lemons," Mari says while watching Fox tattoo a line. "And peppermint tea. We give it out a lot for pregnant women. It won't cure it, but it helps."

"Come on, Wade," I say while motioning for him to follow me.

"Absolutely not,"Janie states firmly, her short body blocking the door to Sunday's room. "I'll drive her and Wade home myself." I deflate as I clasp my hands together.

"Please? Please? Please? Janie, I will be the perfect gentleman."

"Please, Janie," Wade says, having my back. "He was a paramedic, and he's strong. I would feel better if he helped get her home." Janie narrows her blue eyes at Wade before looking at me and poking my chest.

"Try something, and I'll burn your kingdom to the ground, Johnson." I was unaware that I had a kingdom. Nevertheless, I fear her burning it. "I'm serious. She might've found a way to justify that little moment at the hotel, but I will end you."

"I promise." The door opens, and a woman walks in with a massive bouquet of roses. "What are those? Someone sent her roses?" I can't even try to hide the tinge of jealousy in my voice.

Janie shrugs. "If you or the guys didn't do it, I'm assuming they're from Stevie and Indy." We walk into the room, and I see a very drugged Sunday lying in the hospital bed. She's crying.

"Why's she crying?" I ask Janie. "Sunshine, are you in pain?" I ask as I round the bed to get to her head.

"Look what Josh sent me!" she cries out, pointing to the flowers. "Aren't they beautiful!" My body stiffens.

"Josh?" I question and look back at Janie and Wade. Wade seems as tense and annoyed as me, but Janie…

"Outside, Red," I order, making sure to use my authoritative voice so she doesn't fight me. Once we're out of the room, I whirl on her. "Josh? What the fuck, Janie?"

Janie flinches slightly. "Look, he sent a text to her phone while she was under. I didn't know about the attack until I texted the group chat, and Indy sent a private text. Sunday's private and didn't mention it. She said she had a seizure on the pole! It wouldn't be the first time she had a black eye from it. So, I told him she was in surgery, and I guess he figured out where. He messaged her phone to say he loves her. I never responded, and now," she gestures back to the door.

"What? Does he think he can beat her nearly to death, and she'll just get over it? I mean, come on! Sunday's high. She doesn't know what she's saying. She doesn't want him. And I won't let him around Wade."

"Ash, while I agree that he needs to stay away, you aren't her boyfriend, and you're not Wade's father. You wanted to be nothing more than her friend and neighbor. You don't get to meddle."

"This isn't meddling; this is protecting them," I growl, walking back to the door.

"That's not your job."

Whirling around, I glare down at the redhead. "Protecting them is not a job."

"You're correct, but you don't have the right either." I don't respond as I walk back into the room. Sunday has passed out, and Wade's sitting in the chair next to the bed, glaring at the flowers.

"Fuck that guy." I grab the flowers and drop them in the trash bin, causing Wade to snort.

"If Mom goes back to–"

"She won't. She's just high from the anesthesia. She doesn't know what she's saying." I assure him, even though I'm less than confident. I can't even begin to count the number of times my dad came back into our life because Mom was lonely, tired, and stressed. He promised to be better, and then she'd end up bruised and brokenhearted.

"Can't you just date her?" Wade's words steal my fucking breath. I look over at him as I feel the panic rising.

"What? No. What?" I have ringing in my fucking ears.

"Do you not like her?" he asks.

"Uhhh… yeah, I mean, she's great." Fuck, it's hot in here.

"Do you think she's pretty?"

"Mhm, yep, sure." It cannot be healthy to have my heart rate this high. Thank god I'm in the hospital for when I inevitably pass out because of this conversation.

"Is it… Is it because of me?" With those weak words, everything stops. My anxiety, dread, ringing, and palpations are gone with that one question, and I'm left feeling ice cold.

"Wade," I breathe out, turning to give him my full attention. "How on earth could you think that? You know I like you."

His face looks pained as he stares at his hands. "Just because you like someone doesn't mean you want to be their dad. I get that, and if that's your reason, just know I-I don't need a dad. I've never had one and… and I think I'm doing okay. My mom is a great dad. The best dad, actually." His voice cracks at the end, and with it, my fucking heart.

I don't need a dad. I know that mantra. I used to say it every day. Fuck, I may have to say it tonight when I go home, and all I want to do is call the person that is supposed to have the answers to these issues.

"Wade–"

"Ahh…" He wipes the tears from his face and forces out a laugh. "Sorry, I don't know where those came from. Um, just… I'll try really hard not to make it weird for you if you want to be with my mom but not have to deal with me. I just wanted you to know that. I don't expect you to take care of me, and, umm... if you want, I'll move out as soon as I'm legally allowed to so you can have her for yourself."

I grab the kid by his shirt, pull him up, and hug him to my chest. "Wade," my own voice cracks as I speak. "Bud, I need you to understand that anyone would be lucky to have your mom and you. You're the greatest kid I've ever met and…" I pull away and take a breath as a tear runs down my face. "If I were to have a child, I"d want him to be you. Not similar to you, just you. So don't ever think that way."

I watch as Wade breaks in front of me. His slim shoulders roll inward, and his head hangs low. "I'll never be enough for someone to be my dad," he sobs out. "Mom's going to be old, and I'll be out of the house before any man wants to be with her, just like your mom." My brows push together as he continues. "My mom is so strong and brave and pretty. And she's so lonely, and it's because of me. If it weren't for me–"

"Stop," I order sharply and grab his shoulders. "You are your mom's entire world. Her reason for everything."

"And how fair is that, Ash?" He sniffles while moving away. "She gets nothing. Why? How is that fair?"

"It's not," I whisper. I remember thinking the same things when my mom was alone, working three or four jobs to ensure we had what we needed. The disappointment on her face whenever a date found out she had kids.

I look over at Sunday and let out a breath. "You're right, it's not fair."

"How do you feel?"I ask Sunday as I fix the pillow behind her back.

"Charming, I'm fine. Stop mothering me, it's weird," she states flatly before yawning. "Go home. You've been here since I got home hours ago. I don't need a babysitter. Besides, don't you have a convention coming up that you need to rest for?"

"That's in a few days. It's fine," I state while looking through her streaming account. "Have you seen this documentary?"

"Go. Home." She groans out. "I promise, I can handle this myself. I always have. Wade's asleep, and I'm lying down. Go."

"Just because you always have doesn't mean you always should," I snap while turning from the TV to her now stunned face. "If you want me to go for some reason, I will. But I'm going to go and lie in my bed and knock on that wall every twenty minutes, and the one time I don't get a knock in response, I'm coming right back over here."

"W-what if I'm sleeping?" she breathes out, and I shrug.

"Sounds like a problem you might want to figure out before I leave. Or, just let me stay."

"Are you doing this because of the flowers? Because I'm obviously not going to date Josh, not that it should matter to you." She states while taking her pain pills with the glass of water I got her. I roll my eyes before looking back at the TV.

"Those flowers were stupid and impersonal. It looked like he just called a florist and said, ‘Give me two dozen roses,'" I scoff. "Like you"re a red rose person."

"Oh? And I'm not?" I side-eye her.

"No, you aren't. No one that knows you would say, ‘Oh yeah, that Sunday, she's definitely a red rose kind of girl.'"

"Yeah? And let me guess, I must be a sunflower girl, right?" She raises her brow, and I shake my head.

"Nah, that's not you either," I state impassively as I continue to glance at the list of documentaries.

"Okay, then what bouquet would you get me?" I turn to her as I set the remote down on the mattress.

"I wouldn't because you would find a bouquet of flowers to be impractical and a waste of money. In fact, you'd probably start a fight with me over the waste and how the floral business is some sort of conspiracy. I'd get you flowers you could plant and have all the time. Poppies if they're in the ground, but if I'm picking the type of flower that represents you as a whole, I"d have to build you a pond and get some lotus flowers. Because the lotus symbolizes growing up through the dark and the mud and blooming into something bright and beautiful."

Sunday sits, jaw slack, as she just stares at me. After a moment, she clears her throat. "Well, they probably didn't have lotus flowers available at the florist," she says simply, and I bark out a laugh.

"Thank you for earlier, by the way," she says quietly, and I shrug.

"It only made sense for me to pick you up. It's ridiculous that you guys wouldn't just ask me," I grumble as I settle on a documentary about Area 51 and hit play.

"No." Sunday winces as she shifts. "I heard you and Wade talking." Her voice catches, and her gaze turns to the floor. "I thought it was the drugs, like when I was crying over those stupid flowers." She huffs out a laugh. "But I know it wasn't. I know what I heard." She looks back at me, and I watch a single tear roll down her cheek.

"I can't thank you enough for how good you are to my son." She chokes out a sob as more tears fall. "And thank you for being such a good friend to me." Her smile is sad, and I hate the way she says ‘friend.'

"I meant every word, sunshine," I say as I scoot up the bed beside her, staying above the blanket. "Wade's awesome. I love that kid." That causes a sob to escape her, followed by a groan of annoyance.

"Ugh! I'm sorry! I'm usually better at holding my emotions back." She laughs, and I give her a small smile.

"It's probably the pain meds." I wink at her, but my playfulness drops, and my breath hitches as she rests her head against my shoulder.

"Yeah," she yawns, nestling closer. "Definitely the pain meds." Leaning up, she presses her lips softly against mine before nuzzling into my chest. "I'd rather a lotus from you over a rose from anyone, every time," she whispers as her eyes close, and she falls asleep.

Well, the drugs can be her excuse for what's happening… But what's mine?