[ embry moore is going to hell. he already knew it, but it's a solid fact now, indisputable. there's no reversing it, no atonement for the way he's blown a hole straight through the man he loves. he remembers jenny's funeral. he remembers morgan hitting ash with the ugly, sordid truth in the worst possible place at the worst possible time. he remembers how he could've killed her on the spot for doing such irreparable harm to a man who'd just buried his goddamn wife.
he's just like her. apparently, being a horrible fucking person is hereditary.
he could slip out the door right now. the fact that he even considers it, even just for a moment, is another strike against him. forcing himself away from the door, he takes a step toward ash's fallen form, then another. he doesn't feel worthy to even approach him. ]
My aunt Nimue raised him. [ he sinks to his knees, feeling as if the floor has spun out from beneath him. a ragged sound escapes him. ] As if Morgan could ever be a mom. Lyr would have grown up to be a sociopath.
[ ash has met his family, though it's never been anything like the trips to ash's home in the midwest. vivienne moore's grand estate complete with lakes and horses and yachts could never hold even an ounce of the warmth and laughter that ash's mother has in spades. nimue, to her credit, raised lyr very differently from the way vivienne raised morgan and embry. ]
He's not like Morgan or me. [ it seems like an important distinction to make. his heart flutters rapidly in his chest. ] He's a good kid, Ash. Smart. Bookish. Takes life too seriously. He's my favorite. There wasn't... after the church, there wasn't anything you could've done. Morgan didn't want you to know. She didn't want anyone to know. And I —
[ guilt closes his throat, throwing him back to the shitty little hospital where he'd sat by morgan's side and listened to the doctors tell her she'd never regain full movement in her shoulder again — and morgan tell him that she'd never forgive him, either. ]
I could've gone to her, too. You didn't leave her in that church. I did. She's my sister. I'm the one that chose you over her. [ he swallows down the broken glass feeling in his throat. ] Fuck, Ash, it's my job to hold all this for you. I'm sorry. I'm... I'm sorry.
( there's no other word for it — he's disgusted with himself. it sits like a pit in his stomach, throwing out anything good he ever thought about himself, leaving all the trash in place. exactly like his own father, who abandoned ash at birth — isn't ash just as awful? isn't he worse, since he made the call that would've killed morgan and his unborn child, if she hadn't been clever enough to fake dead? maybe he didn't deserve to know. maybe morgan saw something in him that day that made it evident, obvious ash could never be a successful father. and he just —
absolutely fucking hates morgan leffey
— for one whole minute, for not telling him, for keeping this from him, for not giving him a choice in being an absentee parent. but then ash remembers that she tried to tell him. at one point, she wanted to. then ash left her for dead and earned her lifelong loathing, which is about what ash deserves. he doesn't hate her. he hates what happened to her, that she nearly died, that she had to give birth alone, that she had to give up her son, that she didn't really have a choice, either. she still should've told him, but ash understands with perfect clarity why she wouldn't have.
still, doesn't lyr deserve to know his father? to have that choice? smart, bookish, too serious lyr. ash would give an arm and a leg just to know him, just to meet him once. to see if they look alike, if they act alike. to see if he's as angry at the world as ash was, at his age. he has to be a teenager now — still young, but older. ash missed all the milestones, things he would've loved to see, things he's always dreamed of being a part of when he managed to right the wrong of his father through parenthood. the heels of his hands flatten on his eyes, pushing the tears back in. )
No. ( he only stops when embry says all that, squeezing his nose before pulling away his hand. his face is splotchy and wet, but he looks at embry, so he can see how serious he is. ) That was my call, my choice. You were following orders. You could've been court-martialed if you didn't. ( he shakes his head. ) She's my sister, too. I own that.
( if the only thing he can manage to do right is assuage embry of his guilt, then he'll do it. )
I don't need you to hold anything for me. I want to protect you. Come here. ( he extends an arm, gesturing embry closer with a wave of his hand, to fold him against his chest. he waits until he knows it's the truth to say, ) I'm glad I know.
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he's just like her. apparently, being a horrible fucking person is hereditary.
he could slip out the door right now. the fact that he even considers it, even just for a moment, is another strike against him. forcing himself away from the door, he takes a step toward ash's fallen form, then another. he doesn't feel worthy to even approach him. ]
My aunt Nimue raised him. [ he sinks to his knees, feeling as if the floor has spun out from beneath him. a ragged sound escapes him. ] As if Morgan could ever be a mom. Lyr would have grown up to be a sociopath.
[ ash has met his family, though it's never been anything like the trips to ash's home in the midwest. vivienne moore's grand estate complete with lakes and horses and yachts could never hold even an ounce of the warmth and laughter that ash's mother has in spades. nimue, to her credit, raised lyr very differently from the way vivienne raised morgan and embry. ]
He's not like Morgan or me. [ it seems like an important distinction to make. his heart flutters rapidly in his chest. ] He's a good kid, Ash. Smart. Bookish. Takes life too seriously. He's my favorite. There wasn't... after the church, there wasn't anything you could've done. Morgan didn't want you to know. She didn't want anyone to know. And I —
[ guilt closes his throat, throwing him back to the shitty little hospital where he'd sat by morgan's side and listened to the doctors tell her she'd never regain full movement in her shoulder again — and morgan tell him that she'd never forgive him, either. ]
I could've gone to her, too. You didn't leave her in that church. I did. She's my sister. I'm the one that chose you over her. [ he swallows down the broken glass feeling in his throat. ] Fuck, Ash, it's my job to hold all this for you. I'm sorry. I'm... I'm sorry.
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absolutely fucking hates morgan leffey
— for one whole minute, for not telling him, for keeping this from him, for not giving him a choice in being an absentee parent. but then ash remembers that she tried to tell him. at one point, she wanted to. then ash left her for dead and earned her lifelong loathing, which is about what ash deserves. he doesn't hate her. he hates what happened to her, that she nearly died, that she had to give birth alone, that she had to give up her son, that she didn't really have a choice, either. she still should've told him, but ash understands with perfect clarity why she wouldn't have.
still, doesn't lyr deserve to know his father? to have that choice? smart, bookish, too serious lyr. ash would give an arm and a leg just to know him, just to meet him once. to see if they look alike, if they act alike. to see if he's as angry at the world as ash was, at his age. he has to be a teenager now — still young, but older. ash missed all the milestones, things he would've loved to see, things he's always dreamed of being a part of when he managed to right the wrong of his father through parenthood. the heels of his hands flatten on his eyes, pushing the tears back in. )
No. ( he only stops when embry says all that, squeezing his nose before pulling away his hand. his face is splotchy and wet, but he looks at embry, so he can see how serious he is. ) That was my call, my choice. You were following orders. You could've been court-martialed if you didn't. ( he shakes his head. ) She's my sister, too. I own that.
( if the only thing he can manage to do right is assuage embry of his guilt, then he'll do it. )
I don't need you to hold anything for me. I want to protect you. Come here. ( he extends an arm, gesturing embry closer with a wave of his hand, to fold him against his chest. he waits until he knows it's the truth to say, ) I'm glad I know.