Once Upon A Twisted Fate

Twenty-Three. - Collide

Ever since I was little, I had someone looking out for me whenever Mom and Dad couldn’t, because their work forbade them from doing so. They tried their best to be more attentive but in the end, work still got the best of them. I understood, or at least I tried to, since I could see for myself how Mom sighed every day when she came home from work, an indication of restlessness, and dad, well, he often came home after midnight. I felt neglected sometimes too, frankly, but Ashton was there for me whenever I needed someone. One night, I overheard him promising to mom how he would never leave my side and would always look out for me. I couldn’t fathom how a young boy like him at that time could have had such a rational and understanding trait when he could barely tie his shoelaces. I still couldn’t.

                Despite how things are different now—Mom started working from home and Dad came home from work before 7 (most of the time)—true to this day, Ashton still kept his promise. Always being there for me, always protecting me.

                “What has he promised you? Has that rich kid lured you in with his dad’s money? He’s trouble, Eryn, you know he is.”

                But sometimes, in certain situations—situations like this, the one I’m entangled in—I wished he would let me make my own decisions and let me make my own mistakes, or at the very least listen to my explanation. He never even asked for one. He barely does that.

                “Are you talking ‘bout Dillan? He seemed like a sweet guy to me,” Mom protested.

                “Sweet?” Ashton let out a dismissive laugh, “Mom, he’s the same Dillan that Eryn works with. The one who made her go through hell.”

                “What are you talking about? Her co-worker?” Mom asked, “Honey, why would you even want to get involved with him after what he’s done to your brother?” Now shooting the question at me.

                I could feel a lump forming in my throat, growing bigger and bigger as I breathe, threatening a breakdown. If I started tearing up now, I’d be incapable of getting even one word out of my mouth, so I kept swallowing, trying to hold back my emotions.

                Ashton was right about Dillan, about everything he thought of him. He didn’t have to utter them aloud; I could read his thoughts without his projecting them: He thought I was stupid enough to forgive Dillan for what he made me go through. Well, I was. He thought I was attracted by Dillan’s money, since I needed some extra cash, it did make sense. But that’s not true. He thought I would hook up with someone like Dillan. I haven’t figured out that part yet. And all of his thoughts were clearly generated from my turmoil of a first relationship. Ashton might’ve gone overboard with his assumptions, but who could blame him? It came together with the package of being an overprotective brother whose younger sister was in risk of getting hurt by a boy again.

If you look at it realistically, Ashton couldn’t have avoided any of that from happening, right? He couldn’t have known the outcome of something if I hadn’t even gone through the process of it yet. I wouldn’t mind if he were to beat up the boy after he broke my heart for all I care, but right now, it hasn’t happened yet.

                “Ashton punched Dillan in the face, remember? Not the other way around,” I corrected Mom.

                “How could you say that?” she asked.

                “So you’re on his side now, huh?” Ashton’s voice was calm. Not like calm calm, but more like he’s holding back what could’ve been a volcanic eruption if he hadn’t compressed whatever’s inside of him. Well, that makes the two of us.