20. Tom

Chapter 20

Tom

I woke to the faint sound of murmuring from the other room. I blinked once, twice, letting the early morning light filter through the blinds. I couldn’t remember I slept so well. It felt almost unnatural, like a luxury I wasn’t meant to indulge in.

Stretching, I stood and pulled on a pair of sweats before heading into the living room. The hardwood floor was cold under my feet, but it felt grounding.

Ally paced back and forth across the room, her phone pressed tightly to her ear. Her auburn hair, usually so composed, fell in loose waves around her face. She wore jeans and a simple sweater that clung to her petite frame in a way that seemed both practical and effortlessly stylish. She’d clearly been up for a while, the weariness etched into her movements.

Her expressive blue eyes darted around as she spoke, intense and focused on whoever was on the other end of the line. There was a vulnerability in her posture that she couldn’t quite hide—shoulders slightly hunched, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater as she walked.

I leaned against the doorframe, taking her in. She hadn’t noticed me yet, too wrapped up in whatever conversation she was having. Wasn’t she supposed to be at work? The thought gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside for now.

She continued to pace, her voice rising and falling with an urgency that tugged at something deep inside me. This wasn’t just any phone call; it was something significant. And yet, despite the tension in her voice, there was a strength there—a quiet resilience that reminded me why I couldn’t stay away from her.

For a moment, I just watched her, trying to piece together what had happened while I slept so peacefully in the next room.

"…don't have anything after graduation," she continued, her voice strained. "I had been counting on that. Isn't there anything I can do?—"

A pause filled the room, heavy and tense.

"No," she finally said, sounding defeated. "He mentioned budget cuts, but…" she trailed off, her frustration palpable even from across the room. "It doesn't matter. Do you know any other studios hiring?"

There was a beat of silence, an eternity stretched thin by her growing despair.

Ally sighed deeply. "No, I understand," she said softly. "Thanks."

She hung up the phone with a sharp click and muttered under her breath, "Fuck."

I couldn't stand it anymore. "Everything okay?" I asked, stepping forward.

Ally jumped, nearly dropping her phone. "Jesus, Tom," she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest. Her eyes widened as they flicked to my bare torso before she quickly looked away.

A faint blush crept up her cheeks, and I couldn't help but smirk. It sure as hell got harder to keep this shape the older I got, but seeing that look on her face made it all worth it.

"Didn't mean to scare you," I said, my voice softening.

She shook her head, still not meeting my eyes. "No, it's fine. Just... wasn't expecting you to be up yet."

I took a step closer, closing the distance between us. "You want to talk about it?"

She hesitated for a moment before finally looking up at me. Her eyes were filled with frustration and something else—something raw and vulnerable that tugged at my heart.

"I lost my job," she admitted quietly. "They said it was because of budget cuts, but... I don't know."

The weight of her words hung in the air between us. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

"I'm sorry," I finally said, reaching out to gently touch her arm. "We'll figure something out."

She gave me a small, grateful smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thanks," she whispered.

The tension between us eased slightly as we stood there in the quiet morning light, both knowing that this was just one more obstacle in our already complicated lives. But for now, it was enough just to be there for each other—to face whatever came next together.

I reached out and pulled Ally into a hug. She hesitated for a moment before melting into me, her small frame fitting perfectly against my chest. Her hair smelled like lavender and something uniquely her. I buried my nose in it, inhaling deeply. The scent calmed me, grounding me in the present moment.

Her arms wrapped around my waist, gripping tightly as if she feared I might vanish. I felt the rise and fall of her breaths, each one shaky and uneven. I wanted to take all her worries away, to shield her from the world’s harshness.

My hands moved up and down her back in slow, soothing strokes. I could feel the tension in her muscles begin to ease under my touch. She rested her head against my shoulder, and for a brief moment, everything felt right.

Pulling back slightly, I cupped her face in my hands. Her blue eyes met mine, searching for reassurance. My thumb brushed over her cheek when I noticed a faint discoloration just below her left eye.

A frown creased my brow as I gently tilted her face towards the light. “What happened here?” I asked, my voice tinged with concern.

Ally flinched slightly but didn’t pull away. “It’s nothing,” she murmured, trying to look down.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” I said, more insistent this time.

Ally finally looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of frustration and something else—something fragile that made my chest tighten. “It’s not your job to fix everything,” she whispered.

“The fuck it is,” I replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “Where the fuck did that come from? Tell me what happened, and don't bullshit me, Ally."

"Let it go," she said.

"Like it's so fucking easy?" I asked. "Ally, you better fucking tell me —"

"Tom, I said, drop it."

I reached out, my fingers grazing her arm. "I swear, Ally?—"

"You'll what?" she snapped, pulling away from me. "Are you going to threaten me too?"

Her words hit me like a slap. "Who the fuck threatened you?" I demanded, my voice rising with each syllable.

Ally's eyes darted away, her lips pressing into a thin line. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively, refusing to meet my gaze.

"Tell me," I insisted, stepping closer. "Who did it?"

"It's none of your business," she shot back, her voice trembling slightly. "Just drop it, Tom."

"Like hell I will," I growled, my frustration boiling over. "If someone’s messing with you, I need to know."

Her silence only fueled my anger. I could feel it bubbling up inside me, threatening to spill over. Why wouldn't she just tell me? What was she hiding?

"Goddammit, Ally," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm trying to help you."

"I don't need your help," she retorted, her eyes flashing with defiance.

"Clearly you do if you're getting threatened," I shot back.

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought she might actually tell me. But then she shook her head and turned away, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Why won't you let me in?" I asked, my voice softer now, but no less intense. "Why won't you trust me?"

"It's not about trust," she said quietly. "It's about... it's complicated."

"Complicated how?" I demanded.

She hesitated, and I could see the struggle in her eyes—the battle between wanting to confide in me and wanting to keep her walls up.

"It's just... it's personal," she finally said.

"Personal?" My voice rose again. "Who the fuck am I, then? Personal. Fucking hell, Ally. If someone's threatening you, it's not just personal—it's dangerous."

Ally looked down at the floor, her silence speaking volumes. My concern for her grew with every passing second.

"Who is it?" I asked again, trying to keep my voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface.

She didn't answer.

"Damn it!" I slammed my fist against the wall in frustration. The sound echoed through the room, startling both of us.

Ally flinched but still refused to speak.

My anger flared hotter than ever before. How could she keep this from me? How could she not see that all I wanted was to protect her?

"You can't keep doing this," I said harshly. "You can't shut me out every time things get tough."

"I'm not shutting you out," she insisted weakly.

"Then prove it!" I shouted back.

The room fell silent except for the sound of our heavy breathing.

"Don't you care about me? Or am I a fucking idiot because I fucking love you?" My voice cracked, raw and desperate.

Her eyes snapped to mine, wide and surprised. The silence stretched between us, heavy and loaded with unsaid words.

"I fucking love you," I repeated, the weight of those words sinking in. I knew it was true, even if it felt like tearing open an old wound to admit it.

Ally's eyes softened, the defiance melting away. "I love you too," she murmured. "Maybe I shouldn't, but…"

I reached out, touching her chin gently, so she looked at me. Her skin was warm under my fingers, grounding me in the moment.

"I can't do this if you don't talk to me," I said, my voice steady but pleading. "I can't help?—"

"Maybe I don't want your help," she snapped, pulling away from my touch.

"Ally," I said tightly, trying to keep my frustration in check. "Then what is this? What are we? If you can't trust me with what's going on with you, with fucking Janet and Nick and now this? Why are you keeping me out of this?"

"I'm trying to protect you," she said softly, her eyes glittering with unshed tears.

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Protect me? How could she think that keeping secrets would protect me?

I took a step closer, my voice gentler now. "From what?"

She looked away, biting her lip as if she were holding back something painful. "From everything," she whispered.

"Ally," I said again, reaching for her hand. "We can't protect each other by shutting each other out."

She hesitated before finally meeting my gaze again. The tears that had been threatening to fall now spilled over, tracing silent paths down her cheeks.

"I don't know how to do this," she admitted quietly.

My heart ached at her vulnerability. "You gotta let me in, sweetheart," I said. Practically begged, like a goddamn pussy. "But only if you're honest with me."

"If I tell you, do you promise not to react?" Ally's voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed her fear.

"Fuck no," I said flatly. "You know I can't do that."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "If you can't promise to control yourself, then I won't tell you."

"What?" The word came out harsher than I intended.

"I'm being serious, Tom," she insisted. "I won't have you run off because you're reacting and do something stupid that'll get you in jail again, especially since you just won a prestigious award and your contract with Crestwood is up at the end of May."

"Who the fuck told you that?" My voice rose, frustration boiling over.

Ally looked away, her gaze drifting to the floor. "I hear things."

"Kara Paige needs to mind her fucking business," I groused.

"She's my friend, you know," Ally said, meeting my eyes with a defiant spark. "And a journalist. She finds things out. So, no. If you can't promise me that, I won't tell you anything."

I clenched my teeth so hard it hurt. My fists balled at my sides, every muscle in my body tense. Then what? How could she just shut me out like this? Didn’t she see how much I needed to know?

"Then what?" The words felt like gravel in my throat.

Ally sucked in a breath, steadying herself. "Then I think it's time for you to go."

Her words hung in the air between us like a death sentence. My chest tightened as the realization sank in—she was serious.

"Ally," I started, but she shook her head.

"I mean it," she said softly but firmly. "If you can't control yourself, then there's no point in talking."

The room felt smaller suddenly, closing in on me with every breath. How could she expect me to stay calm when she was hiding something so important? But looking into her eyes, seeing the resolve there, I knew she wasn’t backing down.

My jaw tightened as I tried to swallow my anger. "Fine," I finally ground out. "I'll go."

Without another word, I turned and walked toward the bedroom.

I pulled on my shirt, the fabric rough against my skin. Each motion felt like a chore, every button a tiny defiance against the overwhelming urge to turn back to her, to make her see reason. But I knew better; pushing now would only drive her further away.

Grabbing my keys from the nightstand, I let out a heavy sigh. The metallic jingle sounded hollow in the quiet room. I glanced around one last time, taking in the scattered clothes and the unmade bed that still smelled like lavender and her.

I reached the door, hesitating as I turned the handle. Her lips were pressed into a tight line, but it was her eyes that absolutely gutted me. Tears welled up in them, threatening to spill over.

"Ally," I tried again, my voice cracking under the weight of everything left unsaid.

"I'm doing this for you," she said softly, her voice filled with a kind of desperate determination. "Can't you see that?"

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "No, I fucking can't. Because you won't let me help you." I sighed deeply, running a hand through my hair. "Fuck, Ally, I would rip my heart out of my chest and hand it to you. Because it's yours. It always has been. And I know it's fucking… I don't even know. Wrong? Fucking nothing I could have ever expected. But it's the goddamn truth. I'm a mess without you, a fucking mess. I already told you I'd marry you. And it absolutely fucking kills me that even after all that, you won't trust me. I know your dad left you and your mom, but I won't. I won't ever fucking leave you. You're it for me. Don't you see that?"

Her eyes filled with more tears as she bit down on her lower lip. "I won't let you ruin your life for me," she whispered. "Not when you almost did back in November. Not when…" Her voice trailed off, catching in her throat.

It took everything in me not to pull her into my arms right then and there. My heart was breaking—shattering into a million pieces—and there was nothing I could do about it.

So, I left.

The second I closed the door behind me, I heard Ally break down inside. Her sobs echoed through the hallway, piercing through me like knives. It killed me even more than leaving her did.

And as I walked away, each step felt heavier than the last, knowing that the woman I loved was falling apart on the other side of that door and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.