Ashlyn hasn't spoken a word since the age of eight, and her heart's never felt more protected. But, when the confident and ever so charming Derek stumbles into her quiet little world, her emotions-and forbidden desires-have never been so loud.
...
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A duck quacked, startling Ashlyn. Releasing Derek's hand, she twisted her fingers into the hem of her shorts, her feet rooted to the patch of grass where she stood.
Guilt flickered across his features as he turned to look back at her, his mask not covering it quick enough. Turning back, he stopped in front of her, his hands awkward at his side. Had it been any other day, she would have taken his hands and sat with him there by the pond. Feather soft fingertips would have traced the lines of his palm and caressed his fingers as they curled around hers. But today wasn't that day.
Swallowing back the acidic regret that burned its way up her throat, Ashlyn sank to her knees in front of Derek. Tucking her legs beneath her, a hairsbreadth stood between them. Neither of them dared to cross that invisible line.
Twisting her fingers in her lap, Ashlyn watched her hands, afraid of what looking at him might do to her heart. Those few seconds it took to cross the street, her hand clasped in his, had messed with her head, the conflicted feelings she was having feeding from this extra tension. His hand had been the same, but the tingle and comfort she'd so often found at his touch was gone. It had been just a hand.
Derek's hands rubbed against his legs, his hesitation rolling off of him in waves. The string joining their hearts tugged, and her hand inched closer towards his, the tip of her finger kissing his. She couldn't help herself.
"I never meant to hurt you like this," he spoke into the silence. His voice was a hoarse whisper against the breaking waters behind them. His fingers reached across the space between them, and hers retracted just as quickly. A loose fist pressed against her chest.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head to look at him, the implications of his choice captured in the cracks that framed her face.
I'm not just hurt, Derek. I'm angry at you and myself. Brushing her fingers across her cheeks, she continued. How could you do this? After all those things you said about supporting me and being there for me. How could you go behind my back like this? Side with everyone else who has ever said I was broken?
There was a tremor in his lower jaw, and his eyes were a frightful sight. "Ash, please-"
A strangled cry parted her lips, silencing him. You said you loved me.
Hunching over, her hands slapped against her knees, her palms collecting the tears she cried.
"I do love you." Holding her in his arms, he pulled her against his chest. "I love you so much that it physically hurts me. That's why I had to do this." His lips moved against the back of her head, and her cheek grazed against his shirt with the shaking of her head.
Clutching at his shirt, she tried to push him away while pulling him closer.
"I never wanted you to think you were broken. I would never say that." Gentle hands rubbed her back, coaxing the sobs still trapped inside. "But I can also see that this grief you've been carrying is keeping you from feeling whole. When Zion told me about Dr. Martin-"
