Affairs & Atonements Read online

  “Ashton Pryor,” he said.

  “Ashton, it’s Hilda.”

  He froze, his hands clutching tightly onto his steering wheel.

  “Hello Hilda,” he finally managed to let out.

  “I know I’ve been late…”

  “Three days too late.”

  “I know and I’m sorry. But there were complications…”

  “I don’t want to hear them. Do you know where she is or not?” he growled. “I don’t like being hung on the loop, begging for scraps like a dog, Hilda.”

  “I didn’t mean to, I swear,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry about that. But Christy needed some convincing…”

  He swerved to the side of the road and skidded to a stop, his heart pumping wildly inside him. “You made contact?”

  “Well…yes.” He could almost hear her gulp.

  “Is she okay?” was the first thing he blurted out quickly. He bit his lips, closing his eyes, hoping he hadn’t sounded so pathetically worried about her.

  “She’s okay, Ashton. She’s just… been deeply hurt and that’s why she… we’ve been careful to make contact with you.”

  He grew silent for a brief while. “I know. And I accept it’s my fault. I’ve told you this several times- anyone who would care to listen. I want a chance to correct my errors, Hilda.”

  When she didn’t say anything for a minute, he panicked, wondering if he had lost her. “Hilda?”

  “Yes, yes, I understand. I want you to promise me Ashton that you won’t hurt her again, no matter what she says… or done.”

  “Hilda, of course.” He frowned. Wasn’t it expected for her to lash out at him?

  He heard her take a deep breath and recite an address. He took quick note. This was his last chance and he was going to make the best use of it to make a clean break- to restart a new life, with Naomi.

  *****

  He sat in the small coffee shop as directed by Hilda.

  “What was Christy doing all the way in Edgewood, Washington?” he thought as he watched the cars go by the street outside.

  His second cup of dark coffee steamed before him. If she was any later, he might have to order a couple more. He glanced at his watch. He had arrived early just to be sure he didn’t miss her. And now he had spent well over two hours waiting patiently for her.

  His heart beat rapidly. Had she changed her mind?

  Hilda never gave him a number to contact Christy on. He would just have to take his chances and wait for her, even if that meant spending the entire day drinking disgusting watered down coffee. Perhaps, he could alternate with a sandwich and a cold drink.

  A white crew cab pulled into the car park and an elegant woman stepped out of it. Her jeans fit snuggly around her legs and the white shirt she wore, accentuated her slim shoulders. She stood staring at something inside the truck for a long period and he wondered what she was thinking about. Maybe she also had a difficult appointment at the coffee shop. Could it be Christy? Her dark glasses disguised much of her face and he couldn’t tell clearly if it was her from where he sat.

  His eyes roamed on her curved bottom and wide hips. No, it couldn’t be her. Christy was very small all over. Of course, it had been eleven years since and she could have changed drastically.

  The woman shut her door, turned and walked away in the opposite direction. His heart clamped slightly from his dashed hopes of she being her.

  He pulled out the divorce papers, deciding to ensure he had everything, instead of fidgeting over her arrival. He perused them slowly. Form 1- Notice to Plead, Form 2- Counseling Notice, Form 3- Complaint in Divorce, and the last where she would have to provide all her contact details, Form 4- Domestics Relations Information Sheet.

  Four forms shouldn’t take long to fill, he thought. He was sure she wouldn’t contest the divorce. At least, that was the impression Hilda had given him.

  The door opened and he raised his head, but it was the same beautiful woman from the white crew cab. She looked around the coffee shop, her face resting in his direction. She tensed. She pulled away her glasses and his body froze. It was her after all. It was Christy, his wife!

  *****

  She glided smoothly through the room to stand across him.

  “Ashton,” she said.

  And he could have sworn he hadn’t heard a sweeter voice before. He’d been dying to hear it for eleven years.

  “Christy,” he replied. How did someone ever approach an ex-spouse to discuss details of a divorce? “You look beautiful.” It was the truth. She had always taken his breath away. But it seemed that as she had blossomed into a woman, she had grown even more stunning.

  “Thanks,” she muttered, looking awkwardly about her.

  “Can we sit?” He offered.

  Thankfully, she didn’t protest. She pulled out a chair and settled herself down.

  “How have you been?” he asked.

  “I’m well.”

  He nodded. “Have you made contact with Marshall?”

  “We’ve been in touch. Marshall has always known where I was.”

  He flexed his fingers under the table, trying to release the tension growing inside him. So he had been deliberately left in the dark. For eleven years. Punished to carry the burden of his guilt.

  “I’m sorry, Christy,” he said. “I was young and naïve. I should never have done what I did. I didn’t know any better.”

  “It’s done, Ashton,” she replied coldly. “There is nothing more we can do about it. We’ve both carried on with our lives. And from what I hear, you’ve been pretty successful at moving on with yours.”

  He tried to look for a hint of sarcasm in her voice but he found none. Was she perhaps really sincere? Had she forgiven him?

  “Christy, I…,” he started.

  “I hear you’re engaged.” She cut him short. “Congratulations.”

  He winced inside. For some reason, he wished she had not known about it. But what about her? Did she have anyone special in her life?

  He pulled at his collar to clear his airway. He began to feel stiflingly possessive at the thought.

  “I can understand why you need the divorce,” she continued. “We should have done this much earlier.” She looked down at the bunch of papers pinned beneath his elbow. “Are those the documents?”

  “Uh… yes.”

  “Well then, let’s get it done. I need to get back home as soon as possible.”

  Didn’t she care? Had he been worried all these years for nothing? He tried to read her face for any treacherous emotion, but she was expressionless and without any feeling.

  He pushed forward the first document. Form 4- Domestics Relations Information Sheet. He recalled her habit of running. Hadn’t he after all chased her ghost for eleven years? He was darned if he would let her get away again. If he had to begin with Form 4, then so be it.

  “I’ve opted for the ‘no-fault divorce’,” he said.

  She raised her eyebrow.

  He cleared his throat. “It means divorce by mutual consent. You need to fill all your contact details.” He pointed them out.

  She glanced at them without a flinch. “Do you have a pen?”

  He passed her one, watching her carefully as she neatly worked through each detail.

  “Anything else?” she asked, without lifting her head as she marked it off with her signature.

  Seeing that she was engrossed in re-checking the details of Form 4, he pulled Form 3 from the pile as quietly as he could and tucked it back into his bag.

  “Yes. These two.” He handed her Forms 1 and 2.

  She took them without a word and entered her details again.

  “Is that all?” she asked finally, handing the documents back to him.

  “Yes.”

  She nodded. “Good luck with the marriage. Hope it works out for you this time.”

  She pushed back her chair to stand up.

  “Could you… stay a little while longer?” he said before she could leave.

&
nbsp; “Why?”

  “I’d like to know what you’ve been doing with your life. How things have been with you?”

  She looked down briefly before speaking again. “Goodbye Ashton.”

  She rose up and strode quickly out of the coffee shop. And in a blink of an eye, she had gone just as fast as she had come.

  *****

  He stared down at the blank form in his hand. He had meant to get a clean break from her. Instead, he was deliberately stalling his divorce. What was he doing? He ran a hand through his hair. The woman clearly wanted to be left alone. But did he? Did he want to leave her be?

  He rubbed his jaw. He only wanted to be sure she was fine. She could have pretended to be well. She could easily have pulled such a farce. She was so damned beautiful. If she was doing it rough, he could at least offer her alimony.

  His fourth cup of coffee grew cold and insipid as he contemplated what he was to do now. How could he just turn up at her house and just say he had forgotten a form? He palmed his face. He was supposed to be an intelligent high-paying executive, who thought through his actions and prepared well in advance. He was being ridiculous.

  *****

  Lily Grove, he read the sign above him as he turned into a graveled driveway and up to the pretty bed and breakfast lodge. The flowers in the roundabout bloomed with multiple colors. He parked into one of the bays and then strode up to the front door.

  A couple smiled at him as they exited, pulling their luggage behind them.

  “Hi.” The woman smiled.

  “Hi.” He smiled back.

  “You’re staying too?”

  “Uhhh.” He hesitated. “Just looking. I haven’t decided yet.”

  “You won’t regret it,” the man replied. “It’s a great place and the view is incredible.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Don’t think too hard.” The woman chuckled. “We stayed for a week and loved every bit of it. I feel so sad to leave it.” She sighed. “Margaret and Christy were beautiful. And Ash… he’s such a darling.”

  Ashton raised an eyebrow. Ash?

  “See you around,” the man said as he prodded his wife to move on before she could chat anymore.

  He watched the man put a loving arm around his wife as she gabbled on excitedly. He gave a small smile and walked in through the door. Happy customers. He knew exactly how that felt.

  The reception was unattended and he pressed the little bell as instructed on the small notice pasted onto the side of the counter. A bubbly young woman bustled in with a basket of crisp white towels.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Have you been waiting long?” She blurted out rapidly.

  “No, not at all.” He smiled.

  She blushed. “How can I help you?”

  “I was looking for Christy…” He recalled the name she used in her form. “Christy Pryor.” A warm feeling enveloped him as he said it aloud. It felt so right.

  “Christy? And you were?”

  “Ashton Pryor.”

  She looked up at him with a startle. She mumbled something unintelligible and incoherent.

  “Excuse me?” he asked, unsure of what she said.

  “Follow me.” She indicated nervously. “You can wait for Christy in her office.”

  She opened the door and let him through. “Do you want a drink while you wait?”

  “No, I am fine. I’ve had too much coffee already.” He joked.

  She gave him an awkward smirk and closed the door hastily behind her.

  He winced. Somewhere along their introduction, he seemed to have stepped on a wrong foot.

  He looked around the room, his eyes immediately coming to rest on the string of black and white photo portraits of Christy and a young boy. He neared it, his heart beginning to race. She has a kid? Was she married? He didn’t see a ring and she was using his name. Perhaps, she had a partner. There was every possibility of that or she could have adopted. Probably, a child she was close to? A dozen possibilities flooded through him, agitating him.

  It was none of his business, he chanted to himself. He leaned his head back, bracing his neck tiredly with his hands.

  The door flung open and Christy rushed inside, her earlier composure long gone.

  “What are you doing here?!” she barked. “Get out!”

  He stepped back in surprise. He had expected some annoyance on her part, but definitely not this savagely.

  “Calm down, Christy. I just needed you to fill one more paper.”

  “Paper?” she growled. “I thought we were done with all the papers! I had signed all your damned papers!”

  “You missed one.”

  “You know very well I didn’t miss any. You were right there. I asked you!” She breathed rapidly, trying to calm her temper down. “Very well. Let’s go to the reception and I’ll get it done.”

  “It’s a nice place, Christy,” he drawled. “You’ve done well for yourself.”

  She marched to the door and opened it, waiting for him to take the hint and get out. Instead, he walked over to the window to admire the view.

  “Puyallup… It’s quite a long way from home. But it’s beautiful here. Why couldn’t we have just met here? I could have saved you the trouble.”

  “I had business in Edgewood,” she replied curtly.

  “Who’s the kid?” he asked, pointing to the pictures.

  “Are we going to sign those papers?” she said, her tension growing deeper.

  “Is he yours?”

  “Ashton, I need to get back to work. So could you please give me that goddamned paper so I can get on with it?”

  “Is he still around? The child’s father?”

  “Ashton!” she screamed with anger.

  Sounds of footstep scrambled through the hallway. “Whatever it was Mom, I didn’t do it,” a boy announced as he entered the study.

  Christy stood riveted to her spot, her body trembling as she raised her eyes to meet the sudden cold ones of her husband.

  CHAPTER 5

  “What?” the boy said, looking up at his mother. He glanced over at Ashton and smiled. “Hi.”

  “Ash.” Christy shivered. “Could you ask Margaret to get us two cups of coffee?”

  “No need,” Ashton said tersely, strolling up to the boy. “I had one too many on my way here,” he tried lightening his tone. He held out his hand. “I’m Ashton.”

  “No way.” The boy laughed, shaking his hand. “So am I.”

  Ashton smiled, for the first time taking note of his blue eyes and dark hair.

  “Um… you live here with your mom?” he asked.

  “Yeah. You come to stay? We’ve got some rooms vacant.”

  “Ash,” Christy growled. She took a nervous gulp and added, “Could you leave us for a while? I need to discuss something with… Ashton.”

  Ash shrugged his shoulders. “See you later then,” he told Ashton.

  Christy closed the door behind him.

  “How old is he?” Ashton asked.

  “Give me that paper.”

  “I asked you how old he was,” he repeated more firmly.

  She palmed her forehead and moved away from him. “Ten.”

  “Whose kid is he?”

  “Mine,” she mumbled. “Mine!” she screamed as she spun towards him.

  “Who’s the father?”

  Her legs quavered beneath her and she struggled into a chair, her face growing pale and ashen.

  “I had been advised numerous times to tell you- Marshall, Hilda, Megan, Margaret. They all said I should. But I was so sure you wouldn’t want it- him. You hated me. I was convinced there was no way you would love him.” She trembled.

  He grew limp, as he realized what she was trying to say. “Be frank, Christy. What is it you want to tell me?”

  “You’re Ash’s father,” she let out slowly, her tears rolling down her face.

  He had already guessed that. But he had been praying it wasn’t true and that he had read more deeply into the situa
tion than he should have. And to hear her admit it made it all the more real for him.

  He fell into a chair, shaking his head. “How can it be? It was just that one night. That one…”

  “I had been too pre-occupied worrying about Marshall, I forgot to get on the pill. On the night of our marriage, I assumed that doing it the first time wouldn’t get me pregnant since I was still a virgin… and if I did become pregnant, it wouldn’t matter. I would already be married. To add to that, I was too eager to have a family and I remembered how much fun I had taking care of baby Elise.”

  “Yes, if perhaps we had done it once. But we did it a few times in that one night,” he growled. “What else do you expect people to do on the night of their marriage?”

  “Certainly not tell their wives that they married them to avenge their sister,” she snapped back. “And if you didn’t want a child, why hadn’t you used protection?”

  He pursed his lips. Because he was careless. He had been blinded by his passion, overcome with an unexplainable need to have her. Just seeing her there, standing in that hotel room, her hair wildly spread about her, her scent invading his senses, had driven him wild like she had always secretly done.

  “There’s no excuse for not telling me I had a child.” He glanced up angrily at her.

  She bit her trembling lips. “You hated me.”

  “He’s my son!” he screamed. “Don’t you get that?! All these years, I had been looking for you, trying to find you so I could apologize for what I had done to you. And you… you…” He rose from his chair, pacing the room angrily. “How could you do this to me?!”

  “I was sure you wouldn’t want him. I was afraid. Scared of rejection. For him and me.”

  “It’s up to me to make that decision. You can’t make it for me.”

  “I was young.”

  “Eleven years was a long time to grow up. And you couldn’t find an opportunity in all those years? Even when I looked at those photographs, asked you whose kid he was, you were still adamant on hiding him from me. Is that why you were so eager to throw me out of the study? You would have signed the paper and let me go without telling me. In fact, isn’t that what you did at the coffee shop?!”