“Ashley, what is going on?”  I ask, deeply concerned. 

            “Nothing.  Can we just go to sleep and talk in the morning?”  She looks away again, biting her lip and takes a step toward the bed, freeing herself from my arms.  I shook my head, defeated.  I know it is probably the right thing to do anyway, considering neither of us is in any condition to have this talk. 

            We lay next to each other, bare arms touching.  I can only hope that we get past whatever this barrier is soon, because I am not sure how long I can go without attacking her.  In a last ditch effort to make a connection, I search out her hand and take it in mine.  I lay our entwined fingers across my stomach and she does not object.  This gesture gives me enough peace to allow for sleep. 

            Morning came too soon and with it came an unbelievable headache and a complimentary wave of nausea.  For the second day in a row, I woke up Ashley free.  This time I was not as worried.  Mostly because I had to pee real bad and I was in dire need of an aspirin.  I raided her medicine cabinet and found salvation in the form of Advil.  With that taken care of, I set out to find her. 

            Unlike yesterday, I find her.  She is sitting at the kitchen counter with her head resting on her hand and nursing a cup of coffee.  I walked up behind her, putting both hands on her shoulders and pressed a kiss into her cheek.  “Morning.”

            “I’m never drinking again.”  I chuckle at her vow and pour myself a cup of coffee.  I join her, sitting on the opposite side of the island.  She pushes the sugar to me without my asking. 

            “Thank you.”  I am not sure how I should bring up the elephant in the room.  So I decide to put it off for a little while longer in hopes that she would bring it up.  “So what are you up to today?”

            “I have to spend a couple hours with Michael, going over our schedule for the next couple weeks.  He was telling me I should think about adding a couple more shows while I’m on tour.”  Well that was a kick in the stomach.  I guess I had failed to realize that she was not going to stay in LA or in any one place for that matter.  I was not mad at her, I was mad that I had once again failed to prepare for the most obvious.

            “Okay.  I am going to grab my things and get going then.”  My tone was indistinct and relayed neither anger nor happiness.  I abandon my coffee and head for her bedroom.  I call Clay knowing that there is nothing he would rather be doing on his vacation than chauffeuring me around.  He reminds me that there are three cars at the house, just in case I had not noticed and agrees to come pick me up.