"Mom, let her in here!" I had started crying again, afraid of what my mom might do to Ashley.

"Spencer, don’t worry! I’m not leaving without you!" Ashley’s voice sounded so desperate.

Finally, I heard my father’s voice. Though stern, it was very calm and collected.

"You know, Paula, you’re right. I don’t stand up for what I believe enough."

"Thank you, Arthur. Now get her out of here!"

"Gladly. This is no place for her."

With that, I heard my mom utter something very confusedly while my dad busted my door open with his shoulder. I stood there, somewhat amazed at his strength, and noticed the smile on his face and his hand stretched out towards me. I felt a small smile cross my face, through the tears, and picked up my bag, suddenly realizing what was happening. I grabbed my father’s hand tightly as I let him guide me out of the room and towards Ashley. He stood between myself and mom the entire time. When I finally reached Ashley, I dropped the bag and pulled her in so tightly, resting my head into the crook of her shoulder, trying to stop crying. I felt her kiss the top of my head and she picked up my bag.

"Come on, baby. Let’s go."

As she led me down the stairs and out of the house I turned to give my dad a smile of appreciation. He was standing in front of my mother at the top of the stairs, with one arm outstretched behind him; holding my mom in her place. I tightented my grip on Ashley’s palm as we crossed the threshold into the warm day and silently walked to her car. She opened my door and let me in, putting my bag in the back seat. She entered from her side of the car and started it immediately. I think we were both secretly afraid that my mom would come running at us with an axe or something. As we pulled out into the street, I crossed my arms and rested my head on the window, looking out at nothing in particular. I didn’t realize it at first, but I was shaking slightly. Ashley must have noticed though, as I felt her soft hand on my upper arm, and it slid down to the inside of my forearm, lightly pulling me closer to her. She went the rest of the way down with her hand, finding mine and intertwining our fingers with our palms pressed impossibly close to each other. We rested our hands on my lap for a while, and then I felt her pulling it up to her. I turned my head to face her, and as she placed a light kiss on the back of my hand, I noticed for the first time that she was crying.

"Ash," I said very quietly, "why are you crying?"

She wiped away her tears with her free hand and spoke even more quietly, "Because, without even knowing what happened back there, I know it was bad. And I know it’s not going to get better that easily. And I just hate," she stressed the word ‘hate,’ "hate to see you cry. To see you hurt."

I put my other hand on top of hers, holding it between mine as I kissed each one of her fingers until I saw her smile.

"I’ll explain it later, baby. Today has been an incredibly long day, and it’s not even dinner time yet. Can we just go get in your bed and cuddle?"

A huge smile crossed her face, and I couldn’t help but do the same.

It’s so good to be with her right now.