106. Warm Night (2)

The night breeze had grown colder by the time Josh’s lips found Ashley’s again. This kiss was different—deeper, less tentative, filled with a passion that had been quietly bottled up for far too long. His fingers traced the delicate curve of her neck, sliding down to the nape with a gentle caress that sent tremors rippling through her skin, all the way to her heart.

Ashley responded, but at first, it was hesitant, cautious, like she was testing the waters of an ocean she wasn’t sure she wanted to dive into. Gradually, she began to melt into the touch, her body relaxing, surrendering to the warmth spreading from his hands to her very core. She felt Josh’s fingers glide down her arm, then wander lower, pressing softly against the side of her waist. His hand gently squeezed the bottom edge of the oversized shirt she’d borrowed, lifting it just enough to reveal a sliver of bare skin—her stomach, pale and smooth beneath the dim glow of the balcony lights.

Everything happened too fast—too comfortably, almost dangerously so. And maybe that’s exactly why panic suddenly gripped her.

Ashley stiffened.

Her breath caught. The softness of their kiss froze mid-air. The hand that had once felt so tender now felt too close, too tangible—too real.

“Ash?” Josh’s voice was barely more than a whisper, a thread of concern woven into it as he sensed the sudden shift.

She swallowed hard, her fingers trembling as she pushed gently against his chest, just enough to create a small space between them.

“I… I can’t.”

Josh stepped back, confusion flashing in his eyes, quickly replaced by care. “Why? Are you… uncomfortable?”

Ashley hurried to adjust the hem of the shirt, tugging it down to cover her thigh again. She dropped her gaze, breathing unevenly, like she was trying to steady the storm inside her chest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just… suddenly felt strange. Like something’s wrong.”

Josh didn’t move closer. Instead, he sank back into his chair, respecting the invisible line she needed. “Do you want to talk about it? What’s wrong?”

Ashley bit her lip, fighting the jumble of thoughts rushing through her mind. Guilt. Fear. Uncertainty.

“I don’t know… It’s not about you,” she said softly, her voice barely audible. “It’s about me. About what’s going on inside my head. Things even I don’t fully understand.”

Josh waited patiently, offering silence instead of pressure.

“I… I’m confused if I really want this,” Ashley admitted. “We got married because of circumstances, Josh. Not because we openly said we loved each other or chose each other consciously. And now… all of it feels suddenly too real. Too fast.”

Josh exhaled slowly. “But we’re building it, Ash. Slowly.”

She shook her head. “But what if I’m wrong? What if you’re wrong, too? I’m scared, Josh… scared to hope again. Because every time I hoped before, everything fell apart.”

She looked at him, her eyes raw and fragile—as if she was someone who had fallen too deep before, and wasn’t sure she could survive another fall.

“I thought you married me because you had feelings too. But then she showed up. And you changed. I know you’re trying your best. I know you’re trying to stay neutral and fair. But you didn’t completely shut the door on her, did you?”

Josh lowered his head, silent for a long moment.

“And I… I don’t know if I’m ready to be the reason she hurts even more,” Ashley’s voice wavered. “What if she tries to hurt herself again? What if everyone blames me for it?”

Josh’s eyes darkened with pain. “Ash, you can’t blame yourself for what she does to herself. That’s not your responsibility.”

“But no one else will see it that way, right? They’ll say: ‘Oh, it’s Ashley’s fault. Josh’s girlfriend can’t handle losing him because he’s married now.’”

Josh remained quiet, the silence growing thick between them, and Ashley felt herself drifting further into confusion and despair.

“I just want to live peacefully, Josh. I want to love someone without the fear that one day I’ll have to give up because the wounds they carry from their past are too heavy to share with me. I just want a normal life. But I don’t know if that’s possible with you.”

Josh rose slowly and moved closer, but this time he didn’t reach out to touch her. He stood in front of her, steady and solid.

“I get it. You don’t have to apologize. And it’s okay to have doubts. Because this isn’t easy.”

Ashley looked up, their eyes meeting in a silence thick with weight and meaning.

“I just want you to know… I’m not trying to replace guilt with a relationship. I want us to have an honest choice. Not one forced by circumstance.”

Josh nodded slowly. “You deserve all those fears, Ash. And I’ll do my best to prove that if you choose me, it won’t be a mistake.”

Ashley closed her eyes briefly, exhaustion pulling at her bones. Her head felt heavy—worn down by the chaos of emotions. But somehow… beneath all that weariness, there was relief.

They sat down again, this time with no touch, no kisses. Only two half-empty glasses of wine and the soft murmur of the night breeze weaving through the lavender blossoms.

And though there were no embraces or kisses that night, a space had opened between them—space for honesty, for uncertainty, for rebuilding or breaking apart if that was what the future held.

The cool night air wrapped around the balcony, carrying with it the scent of lavender and rosemary, mingling with the faint hum of the city below. The soft glow of the garden lights cast delicate shadows on their faces, highlighting the vulnerability etched in their eyes.

Ashley leaned back against the railing, the wood cool beneath her fingertips. She hadn’t expected the evening to unfold this way—quiet, confessional, raw. The walls she had built around her heart were crumbling, brick by brick, under Josh’s gentle gaze.

Josh, too, seemed different. Less guarded. More open. Like he was letting down a mask he hadn’t realized he’d been wearing.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Josh asked, breaking the silence.

Ashley smiled faintly. “At that coffee shop? You spilled your drink on me.”

Josh chuckled. “Yeah. I was such a mess back then.”

She laughed too, the sound light but tinged with bittersweet memory. “I didn’t think we’d ever get this far.”

“Neither did I,” he admitted, eyes softening. “But maybe that’s the point. We’re both flawed. Scared. Trying to figure this out.”

Ashley nodded, feeling the truth of his words settle deep in her chest.

“We don’t have to have it all figured out tonight,” Josh said gently. “All I want is to be honest with you—and to keep trying.”

Her heart ached with the simplicity of that wish.

For the first time in a long while, Ashley felt a fragile thread of hope weaving through her fear.

Maybe this was the start—not of a perfect love story, but of a real one. Messy, uncertain, but hers to write.

The wind whispered around them, carrying away the weight of their pasts, if only for a moment, leaving behind a quiet promise of what could be.

And the night air was brisk now, the chill seeping through the thin fabric of Ashley’s borrowed shirt. She pulled it tighter around herself, though it wasn’t the cold that made her shiver. It was the sudden vulnerability—the weight of every unspoken thought pressing down on her chest.

Josh remained standing a few feet away, hands loosely in his pockets, watching her with a patience that both comforted and unsettled her.

“I guess…” Ashley began, searching for the right words, “I guess I’m afraid. Not just of us. But of myself.”

Josh tilted his head, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

She sighed, her breath forming tiny clouds in the cool air. “I’m afraid that I’m not strong enough to love you the way you deserve. Or maybe... that I don’t even know what that love is supposed to feel like.”

Josh stepped closer, but still kept a respectful distance. “Love isn’t something you have to get right the first time, Ash. It’s messy. It’s confusing. But it’s also real.”

Her eyes filled with tears she fought to blink away. “But what if it’s not real for me? What if I’m just holding on to the idea of love because I’m terrified of being alone?”

Josh’s voice softened, gentle but firm. “Then we figure it out. Together.”

Ashley looked down, tracing patterns on the wooden floor with her finger. “There’s so much history between us. So much pain.”

“Yeah,” Josh agreed quietly. “But there’s also hope. And maybe that’s enough for now.”

She looked up, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt. Instead, she found only steady resolve, a silent promise to stay no matter how hard this became.

For a moment, the past and the future seemed to blur—the hurt and the hope merging into one fragile thread that connected them.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Ashley whispered.

“And I don’t want to hurt you either,” Josh said, his voice breaking slightly. “But if we’re honest with each other, maybe we can find a way through the fear.”