The Consequence
we are an example of why not to fall in love
The inside of the taxi was cool, the air conditioning rushing through the small vents. The radio was on quietly, set to a classic rock station, the heartfelt lyrics of some eighties hair metal band was drifting through the speakers, crackling whenever the taxi drove under a bridge. The driver was a pleasant man, despite it being almost six thirty in the morning. He tapped the steering wheel and didn’t try to make conversation which pleased Ashley Anders. She wasn’t in the mood for conversations, not when her head was fit to burst.
She sighed heavily and glanced out of the window. The flight had exhausted her. She hated airports, check in queues, security checks and having her hand luggage rummaged through. She hated the flying itself. It’s not that she was afraid, she just hated it. Confined space with screaming children and limited leg room. It wasn’t exactly her idea of transport. She knew deep down she’d much rather have stayed in the cramped, yet comfortable van that A Rocket To The Moon trailed around the country in, but she needed to go home and the plane was the quickest way to get there.
“Which Ellend Avenue was it again? I know there’s two, which seems stupid to me, but I don’t make the street names,” the taxi driver asked, glancing at Ashley in the rear view mirror.
Ashley tore her eyes away from the window beside her, looking at the back of the taxi driver’s head. “Um, the one nearer the mall. So not the one near the university.”
The taxi driver nodded and took a right, heading for home. Ashley looked back out of the window at her side. Her eyelids felt heavy, as did her heart. She looked down at the diamond sparkling on her finger. The ring was at least a size too big, it could easily slip on and off. She hated it. She hated looking at it, no matter how beautiful it was for jewellery. She hated what it meant, but it wasn’t something she could take back so easily. It wasn’t a pair of shoes, it was a lifetime commitment. Something Ashley, at twenty years old, didn’t want at least for another decade.
So why had she said yes?
She frowned and watched as buildings flew past them, all becoming grey blurs. The streets were dead, everyone still had the sense to be cuddled up in bed.
“You look troubled,” the taxi driver observed, as they came to stop at a red light.
“I am.”
“Problem shared? I mean, you might never see me again.”
Ashley smiled slightly. The man was right. It might be a lot easier to tell a stranger than it would be to tell her parents. “I agreed to marry a guy I don’t really love. He’s sweet and everything don’t get me wrong, I just don’t love him like I should do. It’s hard as well, he’s in a band and he asked me at one of their shows, on stage and everything. I couldn’t say no, not in front of so many people who admire him. It’d kill him.”
The taxi driver raised one eyebrow in surprise. He knew the girl slumped on the back seat was troubled. She looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. The way she walked, how exhausted she looked, and not just from the stress of flying. “So, what are you planning on doing now?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt Eric, but I don’t think I can go through with this marriage. After all, it has to be built on love and we’re not in love. Well, I’m not. He must be.”
“Did you ever tell him you loved him?”
“Every day.”
“Then, I’m sorry lady, but it’s your own fault then. It’s not really fair to tell someone you love them if it’s a lie. It’s not a white lie, it’s a big fat one. So this guy seems to think you love him, so proposing to you was the right thing to do. I feel sorry for the guy.”
Ashley scoffed. “And so do I! But what was I supposed to do? Keep on just smiling every time he told me he loved me? He expected it back.”
The taxi driver whistled as they came to a stop outside Ashley’s house. “You want to know what I think?”
“Not really, but I feel you’re gonna tell me anyway.”
“Lying to him is probably going to hurt a lot more than the truth ever could. You’ve dug yourself into a deep hole, and now it’s time to get out before you find yourself trying on wedding dresses and tasting potential wedding cakes. Now that’ll be twenty one dollars seventy.”
Ashley reached for her handbag and produced her purse, handing over a twenty and a five. “Keep the change for the advice. I think you’re right, but it’s a shame nothing is ever as simple as it sounds.” She gathered her bags and stepped out of the car, hearing the driver call a ‘good luck’ over his shoulder.
The house still looked the same. The door was still white, her step father had not yet painted it the blue her mother desired. The front garden was still dried out, the flowers in the pots wilted, dying in the heat. Ashley took a deep breath and headed up the path towards the front door. She pulled her keys out of her pocket and pushed one into the lock, before a hand clamped over her mouth and she was pulled a couple of steps backwards. Her bags fell to the floor, the contents of her handbag spilling out across the porch.
“Don’t scream, it’s just me.” The hand removed itself from her face and she turned to scowl at her step brother.
“Logan, what the hell?” She hissed, straightening her shirt out and scowling at him.
“I just got home. I was going to shimmy up the drain pipe and sneak into my room, but now you’re here, you might as well let me in.”
Ashley frowned. “What are you, fourteen?”
“No, just imaginative. That, and I was told not to be home late, but I fell asleep at the Gomez’s and was only woken up about an hour ago.”
“Passed out from drinking more like, you stink of stale beer and cigarettes.”
Logan grinned. “It’s my new smell I’m working on, do you think the ladies will love it?”
Ashley rolled her eyes. “And you wonder why you don’t have a girlfriend.” She turned and picked up all her belongings, throwing them into her bag, before unlocking the door and stepping inside. Logan was hot on her heels and ran up the stairs, ready to throw himself into bed and pretend he’d been there all along.
Ashley slammed the door behind her and kicked her bags to the bottom of the stairs, before heading into the living room and switching on the television.
She heard footsteps upstairs. Light and slow. She could imagine her step father, baseball bat in hand, ready to take on whoever had broken into their house. She remained still, her eyes fixated on the television screen as she flicked through the hundreds of pointless channels.
The footsteps were descending the stairs, seemingly becoming faster, until the living room door burst open and there was her step father in his Superman boxer shorts and an old shirt. He stared at her, baseball bat loose in his hand.
“Hope you weren’t going to use that on me,” she merely glanced at the weapon, before settling on a repeat of Friends.
“Ashley, we weren’t expecting you home for another two weeks, what happened?”
“Logan’s in his room, you know he’s only just come home,” she avoided the question expertly, watching her step father turn into the Incredible Hulk and stomp up the stairs, screaming Logan’s name like a banshee. She hoped to god the baseball bat wasn’t about to come into use.
Through the loud exchange going on upstairs, her mother appeared in the doorway and looked at her, head tilted to the side. “Honey,” she closed the door and came to sit beside Ashley. “Something’s wrong. Did you and Eric have a fight or was it something else?”
Ashley shook her head. For the first time since the public proposal and stepping into her house, she felt her throat close up and tears form in her eyes. She hadn’t cried. She hadn’t really felt upset. She’d only felt anger at herself for letting things get this intense. For letting the ‘yes’ word fall from her lips instead of ‘no’. Eric could have understood, but she hadn’t even given him that chance. “No, we haven’t fought,” she managed to choke out. “He proposed to me.” Now the tears fell, falling down her cheeks.
Her mother frowned for a moment. “Why is that a bad thing? You love him, right?” She wiped a tear from Ashley’s cheek and pushed her hair behind her ear.
Ashley shook her head and crumbled, tears taking over. “No, I don’t.”
She sighed heavily and glanced out of the window. The flight had exhausted her. She hated airports, check in queues, security checks and having her hand luggage rummaged through. She hated the flying itself. It’s not that she was afraid, she just hated it. Confined space with screaming children and limited leg room. It wasn’t exactly her idea of transport. She knew deep down she’d much rather have stayed in the cramped, yet comfortable van that A Rocket To The Moon trailed around the country in, but she needed to go home and the plane was the quickest way to get there.
“Which Ellend Avenue was it again? I know there’s two, which seems stupid to me, but I don’t make the street names,” the taxi driver asked, glancing at Ashley in the rear view mirror.
Ashley tore her eyes away from the window beside her, looking at the back of the taxi driver’s head. “Um, the one nearer the mall. So not the one near the university.”
The taxi driver nodded and took a right, heading for home. Ashley looked back out of the window at her side. Her eyelids felt heavy, as did her heart. She looked down at the diamond sparkling on her finger. The ring was at least a size too big, it could easily slip on and off. She hated it. She hated looking at it, no matter how beautiful it was for jewellery. She hated what it meant, but it wasn’t something she could take back so easily. It wasn’t a pair of shoes, it was a lifetime commitment. Something Ashley, at twenty years old, didn’t want at least for another decade.
So why had she said yes?
She frowned and watched as buildings flew past them, all becoming grey blurs. The streets were dead, everyone still had the sense to be cuddled up in bed.
“You look troubled,” the taxi driver observed, as they came to stop at a red light.
“I am.”
“Problem shared? I mean, you might never see me again.”
Ashley smiled slightly. The man was right. It might be a lot easier to tell a stranger than it would be to tell her parents. “I agreed to marry a guy I don’t really love. He’s sweet and everything don’t get me wrong, I just don’t love him like I should do. It’s hard as well, he’s in a band and he asked me at one of their shows, on stage and everything. I couldn’t say no, not in front of so many people who admire him. It’d kill him.”
The taxi driver raised one eyebrow in surprise. He knew the girl slumped on the back seat was troubled. She looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. The way she walked, how exhausted she looked, and not just from the stress of flying. “So, what are you planning on doing now?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt Eric, but I don’t think I can go through with this marriage. After all, it has to be built on love and we’re not in love. Well, I’m not. He must be.”
“Did you ever tell him you loved him?”
“Every day.”
“Then, I’m sorry lady, but it’s your own fault then. It’s not really fair to tell someone you love them if it’s a lie. It’s not a white lie, it’s a big fat one. So this guy seems to think you love him, so proposing to you was the right thing to do. I feel sorry for the guy.”
Ashley scoffed. “And so do I! But what was I supposed to do? Keep on just smiling every time he told me he loved me? He expected it back.”
The taxi driver whistled as they came to a stop outside Ashley’s house. “You want to know what I think?”
“Not really, but I feel you’re gonna tell me anyway.”
“Lying to him is probably going to hurt a lot more than the truth ever could. You’ve dug yourself into a deep hole, and now it’s time to get out before you find yourself trying on wedding dresses and tasting potential wedding cakes. Now that’ll be twenty one dollars seventy.”
Ashley reached for her handbag and produced her purse, handing over a twenty and a five. “Keep the change for the advice. I think you’re right, but it’s a shame nothing is ever as simple as it sounds.” She gathered her bags and stepped out of the car, hearing the driver call a ‘good luck’ over his shoulder.
The house still looked the same. The door was still white, her step father had not yet painted it the blue her mother desired. The front garden was still dried out, the flowers in the pots wilted, dying in the heat. Ashley took a deep breath and headed up the path towards the front door. She pulled her keys out of her pocket and pushed one into the lock, before a hand clamped over her mouth and she was pulled a couple of steps backwards. Her bags fell to the floor, the contents of her handbag spilling out across the porch.
“Don’t scream, it’s just me.” The hand removed itself from her face and she turned to scowl at her step brother.
“Logan, what the hell?” She hissed, straightening her shirt out and scowling at him.
“I just got home. I was going to shimmy up the drain pipe and sneak into my room, but now you’re here, you might as well let me in.”
Ashley frowned. “What are you, fourteen?”
“No, just imaginative. That, and I was told not to be home late, but I fell asleep at the Gomez’s and was only woken up about an hour ago.”
“Passed out from drinking more like, you stink of stale beer and cigarettes.”
Logan grinned. “It’s my new smell I’m working on, do you think the ladies will love it?”
Ashley rolled her eyes. “And you wonder why you don’t have a girlfriend.” She turned and picked up all her belongings, throwing them into her bag, before unlocking the door and stepping inside. Logan was hot on her heels and ran up the stairs, ready to throw himself into bed and pretend he’d been there all along.
Ashley slammed the door behind her and kicked her bags to the bottom of the stairs, before heading into the living room and switching on the television.
She heard footsteps upstairs. Light and slow. She could imagine her step father, baseball bat in hand, ready to take on whoever had broken into their house. She remained still, her eyes fixated on the television screen as she flicked through the hundreds of pointless channels.
The footsteps were descending the stairs, seemingly becoming faster, until the living room door burst open and there was her step father in his Superman boxer shorts and an old shirt. He stared at her, baseball bat loose in his hand.
“Hope you weren’t going to use that on me,” she merely glanced at the weapon, before settling on a repeat of Friends.
“Ashley, we weren’t expecting you home for another two weeks, what happened?”
“Logan’s in his room, you know he’s only just come home,” she avoided the question expertly, watching her step father turn into the Incredible Hulk and stomp up the stairs, screaming Logan’s name like a banshee. She hoped to god the baseball bat wasn’t about to come into use.
Through the loud exchange going on upstairs, her mother appeared in the doorway and looked at her, head tilted to the side. “Honey,” she closed the door and came to sit beside Ashley. “Something’s wrong. Did you and Eric have a fight or was it something else?”
Ashley shook her head. For the first time since the public proposal and stepping into her house, she felt her throat close up and tears form in her eyes. She hadn’t cried. She hadn’t really felt upset. She’d only felt anger at herself for letting things get this intense. For letting the ‘yes’ word fall from her lips instead of ‘no’. Eric could have understood, but she hadn’t even given him that chance. “No, we haven’t fought,” she managed to choke out. “He proposed to me.” Now the tears fell, falling down her cheeks.
Her mother frowned for a moment. “Why is that a bad thing? You love him, right?” She wiped a tear from Ashley’s cheek and pushed her hair behind her ear.
Ashley shook her head and crumbled, tears taking over. “No, I don’t.”
♠ ♠ ♠
I felt bad for not being able to update. So I still need to write a couple more chapters when I have time before I update again. I have two weeks left at uni before I have two weeks off. So hopefully I can get a few updates in between doing work and thinking of a cunning plan to get to see Anarbor (: