____
T H E O N
My fist slammed into the bag, and the shock of impact jolted straight up my arm.
I didn't stop, I wanted it.
The ache, the punishment.
Sweat dripped into my eyes, blurring everything but the target in front of me.
I hit it again. Harder. Until pain was the only thing that felt real. The gym lights were dim, just how I liked them.
I was shirtless, gloves half-undone, breathing hard. The bag swung back at me like it had a death wish, and I drove another punch straight into it.
The chain creaked, the leather squealed, my knuckles screamed, and I still didn't stop.
Every time my glove connected, I saw her face, completely expressionless, like the old Ashling had died.
There was a fear inside me, the fear of knowing that the person you would burn the world for doesn't feel the same anymore.
I hit again, a growl tearing out of me.
"Fuck," I muttered, wiping the sweat from my eyes. My body was wrecked, but my head was worse.
She said she'd moved on. I'd been trying to believe it, but the second she looked at me yesterday, I knew she was lying.
I leaned my forehead against the bag, breathing hard. The leather smelled like sweat.
This gym was the only place I could lose control.
"Bro," Rhys's voice carried from behind me.. "How long are you gonna keep beating the shit outta that bag? It's been over an hour."
I didn't look at him. Just kept my gloves pressed against the leather, breathing through my teeth.
"You're gonna split your damn knuckles again, and I'm not patching them up this time."
"Then don't," I muttered. "Go back to whatever the hell you were doing."
Rhys chuckled under his breath. "What, watching you self-destruct? That is what I was doing."
I exhaled hard.
My shoulders were on fire.
The gloves came off with a rough tug, and I started peeling the wraps from my knuckles, one layer at a time.
The skin underneath was red and slick, but I kept flexing my fingers until they stopped shaking.
Rhys leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You gonna tell me what happened this time? Or am I supposed to guess?"
I focused on the fabric winding loose around my hand. He waited a minute, then dropped it. "Ashling?"
My hands froze mid-motion for half a second before I went back to unwrapping.
Rhys's voice broke the silence. "Jesus Christ, Theon. Why keep chasing her like some dog off the leash?"
I reached for the water bottle on the bench, popped the cap, and let the plastic crack echo.
"Maybe that's what I am," I said, my lips lifting into a smirk. "A fucking dog that only knows how to run after her."
I took a sip. "Doesn't matter how many times she kicks me back, I'll still find my way to her."
Rhys let out a long breath, dragging a hand down his face. "Oh man..." he whispered, shaking his head. "You sound fucking insane."
He pushed off the wall, giving me a disbelieving look.
"If this is what love does to people, I'll stick to my one-night stands and morning-after hangovers, thanks."
I laughed under my breath. "Yeah, well. You've never met someone worth losing your mind over."
He snorted. "And I don't plan to."
"You're a lost cause, man." He said.
"Yeah, tell me about it." I ruffled my hair, sending droplets of water to the floor.
He grabbed a water bottle off the rack and took a swig. "Speaking of lost causes, you remember Cindy?"
The name alone made my jaw clench. "Don't tell me you fucked her again?"
"God, no. She's like gum on a boot, man, won't leave me the hell alone."
I snickered, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat from my face and neck.
"You brought that shit on yourself. Should've known better than to dip your dick in crazy."
"Yeah, well, her crazy ass has her eyes on you now. Not that she'll ever do anything, the girl's scared shitless of you. You're the only one who's never even looked at her twice."
"Can't blame her," I said, tossing the towel onto the bench.
"I heard you fired her. What was that about?" he asked.
My hand tightened around the water bottle, the plastic crinkling under my grip.
I could still see her hand raised, ready to hit Ashling. The image burned in my head.
I wanted to strangle her right there.
Wrap my hand around her throat and squeeze until she understood what fear actually felt like.
But Ashling was there and the last thing I could afford was to fuck up in front of her again.
Cindy had no idea how lucky she was.
"Yesterday, at the studio," I paused. "She ran her mouth. Made a whole fucking scene and then she—" I clenched my jaw.
"She raised her hand at Ashling."
Rhys straightened, eyes wide.
"Didn't land it, though. She tried, but I stopped her."
"How's Ashling doing? Is she—okay?"
I sighed, tipping the water bottle back and taking a swallow. "She's fine.".
If she had hit Ashling, I'd have snapped that bitch's wrist in two.
"I knew that bitch was crazy. You shouldn't have hired her in the first place."
I usually don't bother with model interviews but after what happened yesterday, I will.
"You made any progress with Ashling yet?"
I let out a humourless laugh and slid down onto the bench. My elbows planted on my knees, and I buried my face in my hands.
"No." My voice came out raw.
"She won't even talk to me, let alone stay in the same room with me for more than two minutes."
I pulled my hands away and looked at the wall with tired eyes.
"It's been years, man. Why don't you just move on? She clearly doesn't want to get back with you, and you're only hurting yourself at this point."
I rubbed my thumb over my knuckles until the ache jumped up my arm.
"It's not possible."
"Look, come out tonight. You, me, Rowan, we'll hit a club, get a few drinks in you. Go hook up with someone and get her the fuck out of your system."
I snapped my head up at him. His mouth quickly shut as I stood up, glaring hard at him.
"The hell did you just say?"
He raised his hands a little. "Relax, I was just—"
He knows what she means to me, and still thinks I'd go fuck someone else?
"I'd rather die alone than touch someone else just to forget her."
Rhys looked at me, guilt written all over his face, and I swallowed back the lump of fury.
"I'm sorry, man." He said.
"I just don't get it. I don't get how someone can stay so hooked on a person who won't even give them a chance. I really don't get how you're still this hung up on her. If I were you, I'd have given up by now."
He didn't get it cause Rhys had never been that fucked.
He had loved someone so hard, never felt that sick, possessive pull in his gut, never felt like a half-dead man knowing he'd nearly lost the girl he loved.
He'd never been wrecked by a woman the way Ashling wrecked me.
He doesn't understand that if I stop chasing her, I lose her for good, and that's not a risk I'm going to take.
I've done everything a man can do without losing his mind.
Sent her roses every day, dropped gifts she wouldn't even touch, said sorry so many times the word doesn't mean shit anymore.
I was on my knees for her while she looked at me like I was dirt under her shoe.
I watched her walk around the office, smiling at other people, laughing at some guy's stupid joke.
I stood there, pretending I didn't care, while every fucking part of me wanted to rip the ground out from under them.
Once you break her trust, she'll turn her back and never fucking look at you again.
Some school friend fucked her over once, said sorry, begged even, and she ghosted their ass like they never existed.
That's who she is. She doesn't do second chances... and I already burned my first.
"I love her... and you don't give up on the woman you love."
I don't say shit I don't mean. When I say I can't live without Ashling, I mean every word.
I tried once... and it almost destroyed me.
One thing I knew for sure was that my story began with Ashling, and it would end with her, too.
___
Moonlight leaked through the slit in the curtains, cutting a thin white line across the floor.
The rest of the room was just shadows.
I stood in front of the mirror, shirtless, my reflection staring back like it was someone else.
My head tilted a little as I watched myself, eyes unblinking.
A tear slipped down my cheek before I even felt it.
My brows pulled together, the muscles in my face tightening like they were trying to hold something in.
I tried to move on. God knows I fucking tried.
Different faces, different smiles, different voices trying to get close, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't touch them. Every time a woman leaned in, it felt wrong.
Filthy.
My body wouldn't move. It's like it already knows who it belongs to.
There's a thread between us, and it's not the kind that snaps. It's the kind that chokes.
It doesn't matter how far I go, how long I stay away; I still end up back here.
Back to her. She's under my skin, carved into the soft spots I can't reach.
I've called it love, addiction, obsession, it's all the same thing now. I can't cut her out. I wouldn't even know where to start.
I've loved her since we were kids, before I fucked it all to hell.
She'd laugh, and I'd forget to breathe; she'd talk, and I'd listen like the world had stopped moving.
Now she's gone, and I'm still here, tied to a ghost that won't let me go.
There are nights I miss her so bad it feels like a fever.
Nights, I'd trade anything just to hear her say my name the way she used to.
I'd give anything to have that back.
To have her back.
"I hate you, Theon."
I froze.
My body snapped toward the sound. There was nothing but just the dark.
My pulse jumped hard against my throat. "I hate you," the voice hissed again.
I spun, scanning the room, every inch of the dark. The air felt heavy, like someone else was breathing with me.
What the hell was that?
"Ashling?" I whispered. "Ash, is that you?"
Silence hung for a moment, and then the same voice cut through it from behind me, close enough to make my skin crawl.
"This is all your fault. YOU DID THIS TO ME!"
I started tearing through the room, yanking the sheets off the bed, shoving furniture aside, checking under the bed frame like an idiot.
"Ashling?" I called again, louder this time. "Where are you?"
No response.
Just the sound of my fast breathing and the tick of the clock from across the room.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
My hands shook.
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
"God, what the fuck is wrong me with?" I grabbed my hair.
I dropped onto the bed, elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands.
My pulse was still racing, heartbeat thudding in my ears. Suddenly, a scream tore through the night.
It was high, strained at the edges, like her voice was clawing its way out of the dark.
It cut through the room like shattered glass, close enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
A whisper grazed my ear, repeating the same words until the walls began closing in.
"This is your fault. This is your fault. This is your fault. This is your fault. This is your fault. This is your fault. This is your fault."
"NO!"
I jolted upright in bed, gasping. The room was still dark, moonlight peeking through the slit in the curtains.
Sweat poured down my neck, dripping from my hair onto the sheets.
My heart was slamming so hard it hurt.
What the fuck was that?
I didn't know if I was awake or still trapped in whatever the hell I'd just dreamed.
I exhaled and fell back onto the mattress, focusing on my breathing.
The bedroom door creaked.
I shot upright, my heart slamming against my ribs, my body braced for something that wasn't there and then a faint voice cut through the silence.
"Dad."
My breath rushed out all at once. I dragged a hand down my face, a laugh slipping out with a sigh as the tension drained away.
A tiny figure stood in the doorway, hair sticking up in curls, clutching a worn-out teddy by the arm.
Eli.
He stood there barefoot, pajamas twisted around his small frame, eyes wide with sleep and fear.
"Dad," he whispered.. "Can I sleep with you, please? I had a bad dream."
"Of course Champ, come here," I said, patting the bed beside me.
He ran across the room, feet padding against the floor, and climbed up without hesitation.
I caught him under the arms, lifted him the rest of the way, then pulled the covers over us.
He curled against me, small body warm against my chest, and a teddy bear squashed between us.
I pressed a kiss to his head, the scent of baby shampoo washing over me and pushing the fear away.
My fingers combed through his thick, ash-blond curls. "What'd you dream about, bud?"
He hesitated, voice wobbling. "I saw Mummy... leaving. She said she wasn't coming back."
Everything inside me stopped.
Those words wrecked me more than any nightmare he could've had.
I rested my cheek against the top of his head, my voice barely above a whisper.
"She won't leave this time, okay? She's coming back, very soon."
He nodded, already half asleep, trusting me in a way no one else ever could.
I lay there, holding him, listening to his breathing, eyes open to the dark.
"Soon."
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