Page 6 of From Asher, With Love

After all, that’s the reason I agreed to this meeting.

I steel my chest and square my shoulders as I stand in the sea of people surrounding me, unsure of what to do or who to look for. My conversation with Julianna plays through my mind, and I’m unable to move on from her comment about the sadness in my eyes.

I’ve fought for years to put my previous life behind me. And I hate that it’s followed me like an unrelenting shadow. The air around me is stifling, thick and heavy. It feels like men and women are closing in on all sides. Pushing through the crowd, I make my way to the other side, gasping for air once I break free.

I take a deep breath and look around as tears prick my eyes. I hate that I feel this way.

After shoving it back down, my phone pings in my hand with a message from Julianna.

Quickly swiping my thumb across the screen, I unlock Julianna’s message. The picture she sent of the man I’m supposed to be meeting has finally come through.

Just when I think I’ve regained my bearings and gifted the oxygen to my lungs, it’s sucked from my chest all over again. The blood drains from my head to my toes. My heart races, and I blink several times, convinced I’m not seeing him correctly. I must be mistaken.

But the name under his picture confirms he’s the man I’m seeing. Those same golden flecks in his green eyes. A smile that makes me go weak in the knees. A face that’s now matured and sharpened, compared to the boyish, unkempt version I once knew.

A breath hits the back of my throat when I look up from my phone. My hand is shaking, and my heartbeat is erratic,anticipating the moment when my eyes land on thehimin this bar. The man I haven’t laid eyes on since I was seventeen.

The back of the space has several small tables lining each wall, with rustic-style benches set in front of each one. I scan the area until my gaze lands on the back of a stranger sitting at a table alone.

His attention isn’t on the crowd around him as he shields his face by keeping his focus trained on the phone resting in his hand.

I step closer, and the closer I get, the more my stomach sinks. I feel it in the way the hair on the back of my neck stands up. Suddenly, memories of my past life come flooding back.

Secret notes and pressed flowers.

A whisper across my skin.

A life that feels a thousand solar systems away, lost in the stars that once mapped our future. A future lost to cataclysmic events that changed us forever.

The chatter and conversation around me is muffled and garbled, like I’m submerged under water.

I stop a small distance from the table, unable to allow my sore feet to carry me farther.

His black coat is draped over the back of his wooden chair, and his red scarf is folded neatly on top of the table.

I watch as he rests the tips of his fingers around his small glass. He still hasn’t looked away from his phone as he slides the glass closer to him. He doesn’t look up or bring his drink to his lips. Instead, he slowly spins it around, never once lifting it off the table.

I study his profile, from the sharp plane of his nose to his smooth mouth. The lights of the bar aren’t as bright here as they were at the front without any string lights hanging from the ceiling on this side of the space. His face is covered with shadows, hiding the tiniest of his features.

Despite the span of time since the last time I laid eyes on him, I know exactly who he is.

My stomach takes an even deeper plunge when he finally looks up.

His face doesn’t change at the sight of me. Unlike mine.

An audible gasp escapes the small space between my lips.

“Asher?” His name falling from my mouth is like opening an old chest. The dusty remnants and memories of a past life surround me like a dark cloud. At first, saying his name feels foreign, but the more I let it linger in the air between us, the more familiar it becomes. I haven’t uttered his name in almost ten years, yet it somehow feels so normal leaving my lips. He’s changed, and if it weren’t for the confirmation in Julianna’s text, I would second guess whether this was him or not.

But even now, I have my doubts. A love like the one we had isn’t easily forgotten. A touch like his. A kiss like his. A voice like his. A love so powerful, it took years to repair the cracks he’d cut into my heart.

“Charleigh?”

That voice.It’s deeper… smoother than what I remember.

I inhale a sharp breath, unsure of the man sitting before me. My mind tells me it’s Asher, but my heart doesn’t want to believe it. Itcan’tbelieve it.

“I’m sorry, I, um…“ I nervously tuck a strand of hair behind my ear while I try to wrap my head around what’s happening.

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