ASHLEY
Demi is a crying mess when I walk into her room. At first, I expect to get yelled at for barging in. I know she has never been comfortable being alone with me. Surprisingly, she merely blots at her teary eyes and sits up on her bed. Her eyes cling adoringly to my face as a ghost of a smile seeps into her cheeks.
"I knew you would come back." She says in a low whisper. "I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me."
Her crying fit starts again while I stand watching her, confused as hell. Was Ashton just in here? What the hell transpired between them? Can't Demi tell I am wearing the same clothes from earlier when we met at the drawing room or does this mistaken identity have to do with the low setting of her bedroom light? Gradually, my brows furrow in annoyance. Just how much does she care about Ashton? Why has she never looked at me so lovingly like this?
