Page 24 of Saving the Rockstar

I blew out a long breath. "Honestly? No, not anymore. But I think I miss what we could have been, if I'd gotten my head out of my ass sooner."

Asher made an encouraging sound, a gentle prompt to continue. I gathered my thoughts, picking carefully through the minefield of memory.

"We were so young when we met. Shelby was a firecracker. Whip-smart and funny as hell, with this smile that just lit up the room, you know?"

A ghost of that smile flickered through my mind's eye. The way it had made me feel ten feet tall and invincible, like I could take on the world as long as she was by my side.

Asher hummed in acknowledgement. "What happened?"

I huffed a rueful laugh. "Life happened. The Corps happened. I thought being a Marine was the end-all, be-all. And I was good at it, too. Rose through the ranks, got tapped for special forces. But it meant being gone all the time. Deployments, training exercises. Always another mission."

Regret rose like bile in the back of my throat. "I missed so much. Birthdays, anniversaries. Moments I can never get back. And even when I was home, I wasn't really present, you know? I was always thinking about the next op, the next objective. Shutting down when things got too heavy."

Asher's hand crept across the covers, finding mine. His fingers twined with my own, a silent offer of support.

I squeezed back, taking strength from that small, vital connection. "I remember, we threw this big party for my promotion to staff sergeant. All our friends and family there. Shelby wore this gorgeous dress, had her hair all done up. And I was so proud, you know? Of my accomplishments, of her on my arm. The perfect Marine wife."

My voice wavered, thick with old shame. "But as the party was winding down, she pulled me aside. Told me she waspregnant. And instead of being over the goddamn moon, I went into tactical mode, started talking about how we'd balance my training schedule with doctor's appointments. As if it was just another mission to plan."

I could still see Shelby's face in that moment. The way the joy had slowly leached from her eyes, replaced by a resigned kind of sadness. Like she'd expected me to react that way, but had still held out a tiny scrap of hope that I'd surprise her.

"She lost the baby, a few months later. The doctors said it happened sometimes, that it wasn't anyone's fault. But I couldn't help feeling like maybe it was the universe's way of telling me I wasn't cut out for fatherhood. That I'd already fucked it up before I'd even begun."

Asher made a sound. "That's not on you."

I shook my head, vision blurring. "Isn't it? I was checked out, Ash. Distant. Shelby was going through hell and I couldn't step up. Couldn't be the partner she needed."

I had to pause, take a shuddering breath. It had been so long since I'd let myself examine this, pull back the bandage and expose the still-festering wound beneath.

"Things just fell apart, after that. The silences got longer, the fights got nastier. I was gone more than I was home. And when I was there, it was like we were two strangers sharing space. The connection, the intimacy, it all withered away. Until there was nothing left but resentment and regret."

Asher's grip on my hand tightened, grounding me. "I can't imagine how painful that must have been."

I squeezed my eyes shut, hot tears slipping free. "The day she left, it was like watching a car crash in slow motion. I saw it coming, you know? Could feel her slipping away for months.Years, maybe. But I still wasn't prepared for the moment she walked out the door."

The memory was seared into me. The empty ache of the house after Shelby's presence had been excised from it. The phantom scents of her perfume, her shampoo, slowly fading from our sheets and towels. The crushing weight of failure, of knowing I'd let the most important thing in my life crumble to dust through my own inability to bend.

"After she was gone, it was like I had to rebuild myself from the ground up. Figure out who I was without the titles - Marine, husband, father-to-be. It was the hardest thing I've ever done."

Asher's thumb swept over my knuckles. "But you did it," he said softly. "You survived. You came out the other side."

I laughed wetly. "Yeah. For a given definition of surviving, at least. Some days I still wonder if I'll ever be able to have a real relationship again. If I've fucked myself up too badly to make that kind of connection."

"You will." Asher's voice was low but fierce with conviction. "You have so much love to give. I see it every day, in the way you take care of the people around you. The way you put everyone else first, even when it costs you."

For a long, suspended moment, we just stared at each other. I was abruptly aware of how close we were sitting, the heat of Asher's skin bleeding into mine. The damp fan of his lashes against his cheek, the full curve of his lower lip.

It would be so easy. To lean in, close that last bit of distance. To take his mouth with my own, pour everything I was feeling into the slick slide of lips and tongue. To let my hands map the terrain of his body, learn him by touch and taste and the hitch of his breath.

So fucking easy. Yet so impossibly, terrifyingly hard.

"So," Asher said, aiming for casual and missing by a mile. "I overheard you in the balcony. You have a crush on someone, huh?"

My heart stumbled in my chest. He'd heard that? Fuck.

I tried to play it off, forcing a laugh. "Don't sound so surprised, Ash. I'm not actually a monk, you know."

Asher's lips twitched. "Could've fooled me. I figured you must be fighting off suitors left and right with those devastating good looks and charm."

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