Anchor of Hope (23 page)

They were immediately handed champagne and Steven drank his a little too fast, hoping to take the edge off, perhaps. He took another glass, and scanned the room looking for his father and soon-to-be business partners.

An older gentleman touched Steven on the shoulder and smiled as he turned to greet the man. They shook hands and the older man congratulated him.

“Ashley, I’d like to introduce you to Dr James Fitzpatrick.”

The older man shook Ashley's hand and smiled. He had receding grey hair and wore thick glasses. He appeared to be in his late sixties.

“James was one of my lecturers throughout university.”

“It’s nice to meet you Dr Fitzpatrick.” Ashley said.

“Please, call me James,” he said. “I’ve known young Steven since he was a boy. Robert and I went to university together, if you can believe it.”

The night continued on with similar introductions. Ashley felt herself growing tired from smiling and pretending to be interested in every detail of the inner workings of the corporate world.

When it was time to sit down for dinner she was relieved. She didn’t think she could stand listening to one more person tell her she must be a lucky woman to have caught Steven’s eye. As though her only valuable asset was Steven.

The food was served by immaculate wait staff dressed in formal black and white. Everything was done flawlessly. The champagne was flowing, the music was heavenly, and no expense had been spared on the décor. Several speeches were given throughout the night and Ashley’s mind wandered. At one point she slouched forward, resting her chin on her hand, elbow propped up on the table. But Steven motioned to her, letting her know that was inappropriate behaviour for such an occasion as this.             

Dessert was a medley of pastries and fruits, and then it was finally time for the Cole, Irving and Paxton annual report. Robert and his two partners stood together on the stage thanking everyone and continued to discuss their advances and achievements for the year. There was no doubt about it, theirs was one of the finest and most successful boutique firms in the city, with an exclusive client list and a long list of international alliances. Robert then took the microphone to announce his departure as senior partner, ensuring he wouldn't be leaving the company but merely stepping back to allow his son to fill his place as senior partner at the firm.

There was a loud round of applause as Steven was asked to join them on the stage. Ashley was so proud of him. This was his moment, the moment he had been working for his whole life. Even his mother was there with her newest husband, clapping in delight. If it was delight—all that plastic surgery made it difficult to tell.

Steven took the microphone as the guests seated themselves. He began to thank the hosts of the ball and complimented the chefs on the quality of the food. He then went on to talk about the future goals and plans of the firm and what they hoped to achieve over the next few years as they continued to build their empire. Next he thanked his father and mother, and also Graham Irving and Michael Paxton, promising to strive hard and endeavouring to maintain the integrity on which his father had established the business all those years ago. Then that was it. It was over.

The crowd stood and applauded him again as the four of them left the stage. Ashley clapped and smiled but couldn’t help feel as though he had forgotten about all the sacrifices she had made over the past five years to ensure he continued to grow in his career. She felt unappreciated, and guilty for feeling unappreciated.

He returned to his seat and pulled her close, kissing her forehead.

“How’d I go?” He adjusted his tie.             

“Perfect,” she replied, hiding her disappointment.

Once the speeches had concluded the guests took to the dance floor, moving to the sounds of the orchestra as the music shifted into more lively, danceable tunes.

Steven had left her to discuss work issues with men she had never even met before and Ashley sat at her table, staring into her glass of champagne and watching the tiny bubbles rise to the surface. They rose in a never-ending pattern, the same thing over and over again. The tiny bubbles could never escape their glass prison.

It was at that moment that it hit her. She gazed around the room at all of the faces, laughing and talking with their fancy dresses, their stiff, Botoxed faces and plastic bodies. She couldn’t help but feel she was like that tiny bubble, desperately trying to escape, believing everything would be all right if she could reach the surface. But no matter how hard she tried, she could never be free. It would always be the same. A constant struggle to rise to the top. She felt as though she were drowning. She had a sudden vision of her life in twenty years. Still with Steven, childless, unwed, and utterly bored with her life. A non-stop merry-go-round, filled with balls and dinners and endless days and nights spent alone with only her material possessions for company.

She had reached the pinnacle of all of her dreams and hard work combined—and all she felt was empty. It all became clear.

She had to go.

She stood up and retrieved her clutch purse. Steven walked over, seeing the dazed and confused look on her face. He reached out to wrap his fingers around her arm.

“Are you OK?” He frowned.

“I . . . I have to go.” She tried to pull free. Steven wouldn’t want to cause a spectacle, and so far, no one seemed to have noticed.

“Let’s get you some water,” he suggested. “I think you've had a bit too much to drink.”

“Actually, I’ve only had two and a half glasses all night.” She didn’t feel intoxicated at all. In fact she felt the exact opposite—as if her head was clear for the first time in years.

“Ashley, you’re causing a scene. People will think—”

“I don’t care what people think!” Ashley pulled her arm away from his.

“I don’t understand. What are you doing? Are you mad at me?” he asked, creasing his brows together and pointing his finger at his chest.

“No, I’m not, not at all. I just don't want
this
anymore.” She waved her hand, gesturing at the whole room.

He looked understandably confused. “Well, what
do
you want?”

“I want to get married.” She said it. And it felt so good to hear the words on her lips. Finally she had the courage to tell the truth, and was willing to speak the truth no matter what the cost. He frowned as though surprised by her admission.

“And I want children. Lots of children. Chaotic, messy, loud children.” She laughed, knowing she sounded crazy and completely out of character.

He let go of her arm and stood there, dumbstruck.

“And most of all, I want a gazebo. In a garden, where I can sit surrounded by my loved ones.”

She smiled and her heart leapt with joy.

“Ashley, I can’t offer you that.” Steven spoke.

“I know, and I don’t expect you to.” She placed her hand on his cheek and he kissed her palm.

“I am thankful for everything you’ve done for me, Steven. You are an incredible man and you deserve an equally incredible woman—but that’s not me. I think we both know that.”

She saw the realisation in his eyes and he nodded in agreement.

“Do you realize what you are walking away from, everything you are giving up?” he asked. “I could offer you a life of luxury.”

“I know you could. But I’d much prefer a life of love.”

Ashley could see from the expression on his face that Steven realized that she was right. If those were the things she truly wanted, then he wasn't able, or willing, to give them to her, at least not in the ways that she wanted.

He pressed his lips together and nodded.

“You understand, don't you Steven?” She raised her eyes to his.

They stood there for a period of time, coming to terms with the fact that it was over.

“Yeah, I do. I get it. I'm sorry it had to end this way.” He gave a thin smile.

“Don't be. We had some good times, some great times. But it’s time for us to go our separate ways.”

She smiled and turned to walk away.

“Ashley,” he called after her.

She turned and smiled up at him.

“Will you be OK? Where are you going?”

“I’ll be fine, Steven,” she said. “I’m going home.”

Ashley’s heart raced as she swerved to the side of the road. The clouds of dust billowing around the car lights swirled like angry tornadoes in the rearview mirror.

It was nearing 4 a.m. Oregon time, and there was still no sign of the sun rising.

Ashley put the transmission into park and pulled on the brake.

She was struggling to breathe, and her hands felt wet and clammy on the steering wheel. Why was she trembling? She opened and closed her fists several times in an attempt to stop the shaking.

It didn't work.

Her chest felt tight, as though she were being squeezed by an invisible rubber band. She fumbled to unbuckle her seatbelt, hoping it would ease the tension. She felt dizzy, almost as though she were going to pass out.

What is happening to me?

Ashley raised her hand to her chest and could feel her heart pounding, sending thuds echoing through her. It was beating so hard she thought it might explode.

The necklace. It was constricting her. She clawed at the necklace, struggling to unclasp it. In a panic, she ripped it, off spilling hundreds of tiny pearls throughout the rental car. Aching chest, shortness of breath, and the paralyzing fear. Was she having a heart attack?

She was only twenty-seven years old, but  what else
could
it be?

She needed to  phone for help. Her phone was in her purse. Scrambling, she retrieved it and held it up before her eyes. No service. She let it fall from her shaking hands onto the passenger seat beside her.

There was no one nearby. The closest house could be miles away and it was unlikely any cars would pass her on this road at this time of night. Terror coursed through her veins.

This is it. I'm going to die.

I’m going to die here, alone in this car.

“Breathe!” she said, willing her body to resist the growing darkness. “Just breathe.”

She gripped the steering wheel, leaned forward and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths in through her nose and slowly out through her mouth, sitting there for what seemed like an eternity.

It was almost incomprehensible to imagine that only a few hours ago she was sipping champagne, dressed in a unique, jaw-dropping designer gown with the man she had been in a relationship for five years with, at one of the most lavish events she had ever attended in New York—or anywhere else for that matter—and now here she was. On the road to nowhere.

Literally.

Please God, don’t let me die here. Not yet.

Praying was pretty ironic considering she didn’t believe there actually was a God who was capable of saving her, much less of listening to her desperate pleas for help.

She tried to focus on something, anything, to take away the realisation that these could be her final minutes on earth.

She sat unmoving in the rental car waiting for something to happen, to pass out, or for the aching pain in her chest to get worse.

But it didn't.

There was an immense feeling of terror, although she was well aware there was no immediate presence of danger. After an age, she felt her pulse begin to slow and the nausea lessened. She began to calm down a little. She took a few steadying breaths as it finally dawned on her that she was not in fact having a heart attack, but a panic attack. It must have been. She had suppressed all of her emotions over the past two weeks and her body had finally had enough.

As she looked down at the hundreds of tiny pearls scattered throughout the car she couldn’t help but feel as though they represented her life—broken and incomplete. Could she ever be whole again? Where would she start? How could she even begin to put the pieces back together?

Everything she had done, everything she had tried, had left her feeling empty and unfulfilled. Fleeing her home town, money, career, a fancy apartment and a boyfriend hadn't been able to fill that gaping hole in her soul like she had thought they would. Her chin quivered as the only solution became more and more apparent. She needed an anchor to hold her fragmented life together.

“God.” She almost laughed as she heard herself call out to Him. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what to do. I need you. Please help me. Forgive me.”              

A single tear trickled down her cheek, the first in an unstoppable torrent. She sobbed. Ashley didn’t even try to fight the tears. They burnt her cheeks and dripped from her chin.

She had held it together for so long, through the myriad of emotions she had experienced over the last few weeks, but now her heart ached and she couldn’t stop crying. At least there was no one around to see her.

Gradually, but increasingly, she felt an unexplainable peace settle over her. The tears stopped flowing and she felt calm and steady,  as though the burdens she had been carrying had been lifted from her shoulders. Ashley sniffed, checking her reflection in the mirror, and ran her fingers over her cheeks, wiping away the mascara that had dripped long black streaks down her face.

She turned the key and the engine ignited. She refastened her seatbelt, and gripped the steering wheel, determination compelling her on.

The sky was beginning to lighten by the time the log house came into view.

It was dark inside and Ashley fought the rising urge to turn the car around and leave, but she knew she had to do this.

As she stopped the car a tired-looking Benson poked his head out of his kennel. His eyes were squinting and his yawn revealed his canines. He wagged his tail and approached her.

She stepped out of the car and made her way towards the front door. Her breath was visible as the first light of dawn began to illuminate the sky. Dark silhouettes of trees bunched on the horizon.

She raised her hand to knock, steadying herself. She didn't know what was going to happen next. She knocked three times and waited.

Every second was agonising. Maybe he hadn’t heard. Maybe there was still time for her to turn and make a run for it, back to the car, back to safety.

She raised her hand, poised to knock again when she saw the glow of the interior light illuminate the hallway beyond the front door.

The door swung open and Jay stood there dressed in light grey tack pants and a plain white tank top.

He froze, as though he had seen a ghost.

Ashley tried to smile but couldn't.

His eyes scanned her, up and down.

“You’re a little overdressed to be wandering about in the woods at this time of the morning, don’t you think?” Jay said.

She was still wearing the designer gown. The same gown she had worn to the ball less than twelve hours ago, the same gown she had worn as she rushed to the airport, flew across the country, and drove a hired rental car to Jay’s doorstep.

He raised one arm and leaned on the door frame, staring at her. He looked as though he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or if she was here.

“I have to tell you something,” she said, controlling the emotion in her voice.

“You know they’ve invented phones for that sort of thing” His lip lifted at the corner. He was trying to lighten the mood as he always had, a characteristic she had always loved and admired. It was his way of acknowledging that he knew she was afraid and he was there to reassure her that it would all be all right.

It was then that she noticed the backpack on the floor behind him in the hallway.

“Are you going somewhere?” she asked.

“Yes, Manila. In the Philippines.”

“The typhoon.”

“I fly out on Monday for two weeks,” he said. “I’m part of a team that’s helping to begin the rebuilding process over there.”

Of course he was
. She should have known he would be one of the first people to volunteer for something like this.

“What are you doing here, Ash?”

“I need to say this, before I forget and it all comes out wrong.” She struggled for composure.

He placed his hands in his pockets and gazed at her, willing her to go on.

“I lied. When I said that kiss was a mistake. It wasn’t a mistake, but I didn’t want to admit the truth. I was too afraid to tell you I wanted you to kiss me, and that I want
you
, because that would mean allowing myself to be vulnerable and if I allowed myself to be vulnerable then I might get hurt. For so long I have been in control . . . I’ve done everything I could to be better, to
do
better.”

Jay frowned and folded his arms across his chest without uttering a single word.

Ashley raised her chin, determined to continue. “When my father died, I blamed God. All I could see was forgiveness on everyone’s faces and I thought what I had done—not being there to say goodbye to my father—was unforgivable. I couldn’t look at you without being reminded of my failures, and I hated myself for it. How could I stand to be near you when every time you touched me I felt unworthy—”

“What?” Jay straightened up and stepped towards her. “Ashley, I never meant to—”

She held up her hand to stop him. “I thought if I left, if I started a new life and earned lots and lots of money and had a good career and a good partner, if I was successful, that it would make me happy. I thought if I could make something of my life, I could make up for not being there for my dad. Like somehow he could be proud of me. I would be able to fill that hole that ached inside of me.” She pressed both hands to her chest and could see Jay’s jaw clenching, as though he wanted to say something, but she hadn't finished yet.

“I thought I’d be free if I left Sweet Home, but the truth is I had never felt so trapped in my life. I was wrong, so wrong. I have been a fool. I’m only beginning to scratch the surface of what that means—I’m ready to forgive myself and I’m ready to accept that God loves me, even though I didn't think I deserve His love.”

A tear fell from her eye and Jay reached out to wipe it away.

“I never meant to hurt you.” She closed her eyes as his thumb, so soft and warm, gently smoothed across her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Jay. I was searching for happiness and I didn't even recognise happiness it when it was staring me in the face. This past week everything I thought I knew has been turned on its head. I feel like I’m home when I’m with you. I love the way you make me smile, make me forget that the whole world is spinning around us. I love that when I look at you, you’re already staring right back at me. I love the way you protect me and care for me, the way you make me feel treasured. I love that in a crowded room full of faces, the only one I search for is yours.”

The sky had begun to turn a dusty purple and only a few stars remained in the sky.

“I know it sounds crazy, but all this time I thought God had deserted me, and now I know He was always there. It was
me
who left Him. He was just waiting for me to return to Him, and I have. And I’m returning to you, if you’ll have me. I don’t have anything to offer you except my heart.” Her voice broke and she bowed her head as she waited for his reaction.

She wouldn’t have blamed him if he slammed the door in her face.

“That’s all I ever wanted.” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “Your heart.” He reached out and raised her chin so he could meet her eyes. He was smiling and Ashley saw the hope in his eyes.

“Can you ever forgive me?” Her chin quivered.

“There is nothing to forgive, Ashley. I was just waiting for you to forgive yourself. I would have waited for you forever.”

She nodded, accepting the growing realisation that the unforgiveness she had endured so painfully for the last eight years had come not from others, but from herself.

“But, I walked out on you. I left without any explanation.” She swallowed as she remembered the last time she had seen him all those years ago. The heartache she must have caused him. He was completely unaware that the next day he would receive a text message from her saying it was over and that she had moved to New York. It must have been heartbreaking.. “I'm not going to lie, that hurt. More than you could ever imagine.” His jaw clenched. “I couldn’t understand how you could do that, how you could walk away that easily. But when I saw you in the city, and you were happy? That was the first time I had seen you smile in many, many months and I knew I would have to sacrifice my happiness in exchange for yours.”

Ashley took a sharp intake of breath. His tattoo,
‘For those I love I will sacrifice.’
Jay had said he thought the tattoo was silly, that he never had to make any real sacrifices for anyone. He
had
sacrificed though; for Ashley’s happiness.

“You said you had loved me once. Do you think you could you find in in your heart to love me again?” She felt ashamed as she tried to look into his eyes.

He cupped her face in his hands. His voice was full of certainty. “I cannot promise you a life of fame or fortune. But if you’ll let me, I can promise that I will love you. I
have
loved you since the first day I saw you, since we were kids. I loved you when you left the first time—and the second time. I loved you when I saw you sitting in the café in Brooklyn and I loved you every second of every day ever since. I loved you when I saw you standing in the bar two weeks ago and I will
never
stop loving you until the day I take my final breath. I love you with every fibre of my being. I love you, Ashley Harper. I. Love. You.”