But he didn’t. He never leaned over, or even looked in her direction. She understood why. He was ashamed for never truly falling apart in front of a stranger. It had to be terrifying.
Suddenly, he removed his face from underneath his arms. Ashley watched his dark stare.
“I’m fucking ridiculous,” his voice shook.
”What?” She sat straight up on the couch, fingers clutching the cushions. “Why?”
He used the back of his sleeve to wipe at his cheeks. “I have a fucking Greene, listening to me bitch about my problems.”
“ Honor, look at me. I have a Bocchino.”
“I’m not a Bocchino,”
His eyes finally latched on to hers. “The Bocchino name is given to children with common first grandparents. My last name ...“ Honor removed a ring from his finger.
He pressed it in to her palms.
Turning to read the inside crest, Ashley pressed her fingertips to the rough edges, “ De Luci,” she whispered.
“ That’s why they listen to him. That’s why he has so much control.”
“This doesn’t make a difference. Family is family.” she pressed the ring on her own finger.
“ I’m not whining about that.” a smile played on his lips. Honor watched her place her chin in the hand his ring was fixed on.
“ Then what triggered you to cry like that? Hmm?” she could have sworn he was going to kiss her.
Or at least some part of her from the way he looked at her. Ashley was right of course. She just would’ve preferred her neck rather than her forehead. During the unexpected moment, she felt his fingers carefully remove his family keepsake from her hold. “Nice chat,” his warm breath played in her hair.
Ashley smiled to herself, eyes following him stand. “Don’t forget Friday.” She spoke quickly. “ Don’t be selfish. I want to cry too.”
Honor bowed only his head, “Absolutely,”
He never showed up for that appointment. In fact, he missed all of them. Mostly because of his incarceration three days later. She refused to call him. Ashley wouldn’t ask questions. She went about her life as if he never entered it. It was better that way. There were things said among one another that she’d rather have die with the friendship(or whatever they had). Things that kept her tossing and turning at night with the fear of him somehow telling all her loved ones.
She’d almost forgotten about it. Well, not quite, but you get the point - on the edge of not thinking about it daily.
All that came crashing down when she heard a whisper. A whisper that he’d been released. His time had been somehow shortened. Soon enough he would show. He’d knock on her back porch door. Honor wouldn’t wait for an answer.