Page 75 of From Asher, With Love

“No.” I frown. “I never asked him why he didn’t, but I think he assumed I was living a good life. Maybe he didn’t want to rip me away from the only home I’d ever known.”

She runs her thumb under my eye.

“I don’t hold it against him, though,” I say, softly. “He was good to me when I did move with him, and I think if I had left her before, she would have died sooner.”

“Do you still have a good relationship with him? He called you this morning.”

“I do.” I smile weakly, though sadness consumes me. I try not to think of my father’s illness often, although I care deeply. It’s tough to continue business when all I can think about is him. “He’s, um…” I can’t get the words out easily, never having spoken of it out loud to anyone other than my father. “He’s dying of cancer. I’ve told him I want to be there for him, but he insists I continue to work. He says that’s all he wants for me, so that’s why I’m not there.”

“Oh, Asher.” She kisses me, then wraps her arms around my body, pulling me to her. I press my head to her chest, listening to her heartbeat while trying not to cry. I hold my tears in as she runs her hands through my hair. “I’m so sorry.”

She loosens her grip around me and places her hands on my shoulders, but I immediately catch the sadness in her eyes. They cloud over like a storm in the horizon.

Inhaling an unsteady breath, Charleigh’s chin wobbles, and the city lights catch the tears lining her lashes.

I run the back of my hand down the length of her face. “What is it?”

“I’m just…” She gulps. “I’m just thankful your dad turned out to be a good person, and I hate knowing that he’s suffering. I spent years wondering if you were okay, so it makes me happy knowing he turned out to be great. It’s as if sickness always consumes and steals away the best people. My trust in father figures isn’t exactly stellar.”

She looks away, and I draw her attention back when I wrap my arms around her again, pulling her to me.

“I read what happened to your dad and his business.” I clear my throat. “I’m so sorry, Charleigh.”

She nods and sniffs. “After you left, I was crushed.”

Her broken-hearted stare rips me apart. The pain is still clear in her expression. The echoes of our past are still alive, its beating heart thrumming between us.

I make a conscious effort to hold myself together, focusing on my breathing as Charleigh continues.

“All my plans were destroyed that night I watched you walk out my door.” A tear spills over and slides down her cheek. “I just stared at the empty doorway, willing you to come back. I couldn’t look at my father or how your blood dripped from his fist. He turned to me with fury and threatened me to not disappoint him again before storming out of my bedroom. Our relationship changed that night. I kept my head down for the remainder of my time at home, mostly because I didn’t have the strength to look up. I was a withered soul, broken and lost. You were the one person I felt who saw me, and when you left, there was no one.” Charleigh shrugs, emotion building inside her. “My mother never spoke of that night again. She went about her life as if we lived in some alternate universe, like aStepford Wife.Like she did every day when she found out about my father’s affairs and lies, even if it hurt her. The deal was sealed on me holding out hope I could turn to her for anything. I knew I couldn’t.”

I wipe her tear away, wishing I could erase the pain. Regret settles in my bones.

“What happened when you went to NYU?” I ask.

“When the news broke of his bankruptcy, my hope of going to NYU dissolved. My father came home and told me he wasn’t paying for me to go to school anymore. All our money was gone.” Her voice fades, nearing a whisper. She shakes her head, blinking away the tears. “

“I left for the city as soon as I could,” she continues. “I realized my mother was never going to change. She would pick my father over and over again. So, when I left, I left them both and my life behind. I wish I could say it was an easy decision, but it doesn’t matter how much hatred you hold for someone, letting them go can still be difficult. It’s more like I’ve resigned myself to disappointment and regret. Disappointment wishing it could have been something different. Regret it had to come to this, where we live in a world as complete strangers. My mother messages me all the time, hoping one day I’ll change my mind.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “Ironic, considering she’ll never change her mind about my dad.”

She inhales a deep, cleansing breath, her eyes brightening slightly. “Anyway, as soon as I could, I packed everything I owned into two overnight bags and took the train to Grand Central. Found a job working for a florist near NYU and stayed in the apartment above the shop. My father never paid a dime for my tuition, and I scrambled to apply for student loans. I pressed on despite my family’s reputation. Didn’t matter, anyway. In a city of eight million, I wasn’t anyone of significance. Between classes and work, it wasn’t easy to balance, and most days I wasn’t sure I’d make it past sophomore year.” She shrugs. “But here I am.”

After sliding my hands down her body and to the back of her legs, I pull her up for her to my lap. She straddles me on thepiano bench, pressing herself as close as she can get. I hold her against me, wrapping my arms around her, not wanting to let her go.

“You are the strongest, most resilient person I’ve ever known,” I tell her, meaning every word. My chest expands, and it’s as if I’ve been holding my breath for the last ten years. The barbed wire I’ve kept wrapped around my heart unravels.

Charleigh shakes her head slowly. “I was only trying to survive.”

“No. You were living, Little Flower. You continued to breathe and live and turn your dream into your reality.”

Her eyes search my face. “And you did the same.”

She smiles, pulling me closer. When she brings her mouth to mine, I smile against it.

“I have a confession,” I mutter.

“What is that?”

“I’m falling for you all over again, Little Flower.”

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