Page 69 of Saving the Rockstar

Finally, after what felt like an hour of walking, we arrived at our destination - a secluded cliff overlooking the ocean, the setting sun painting the sky in shades of orange and pink and gold. It was breathtaking, a scene straight out of a postcard.

Jared led me to the edge of the cliff, his hand warm and steady in mine. And then, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the first stars began to wink into existence overhead, he turned to face me, his expression serious and earnest.

"Asher," he said, his voice low and intense. "I brought you here because I wanted to tell you something. Something that I've been wanting to say for a long time, but never quite found the words for." He took a deep breath. "You've changed my life,Asher. Before I met you, I was just going through the motions, living a life that didn't feel like my own. But being with you, loving you... it's helped me embrace parts of myself that I'd long suppressed, parts that I was afraid to show to anyone else."

"Jared," I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion. "I feel the same way."

Jared smiled. "I know that the road ahead isn't going to be easy," he said, his voice low and serious. "But I also know that we can face anything together, as long as we have each other. And that's why I wanted to ask you something." He took my hands in his, his grip warm and steadying. "I want you to consider going to therapy. I know that you've been struggling with your anxiety, with the trauma of your past. And I think that talking to someone, someone who can help you work through those issues, could be really good for you."

I felt a flicker of panic at the thought, my mind already conjuring up a thousand reasons why I couldn't, shouldn't, wouldn't go to therapy. But then I looked into Jared's eyes, saw the love and the concern and the unwavering support shining back at me, and I felt something shift inside of me, a tiny seed of hope taking root in the darkness of my fears.

"Okay. I'll do it. But only if you come with me, at least for the first few sessions. I don't think I can do this alone."

And so, a few days later, I found myself sitting across from a therapist, my hands shaking and my heart pounding with a mix of fear and anticipation. Jared was beside me, his presence a steadying anchor, and I drew strength from the warmth of his hand in mine.

As I began to speak, the words coming in fits and starts as I struggled to put my pain into words, I felt somethinginside of me begin to crack open, a floodgate of memories and emotions that I had kept locked away for so long.

I talked about Carter, about the toxic relationship that had nearly destroyed me. I revealed the depths of his abuse, the way he had belittled me and manipulated me and made me feel like I was nothing without him. I described the moments of cruelty, the way he would fly into a rage at the slightest provocation, the way he would twist my words and my feelings until I didn't know which way was up.

Beside me, I could feel Jared's anger and protectiveness radiating off of him in waves, his hands clenching into fists as he listened to the horrors of my past. But he never once interrupted, never once tried to push me or make me feel like I was anything less than loved and supported.

And then, I opened up about a pivotal moment, a memory that I had kept buried for so long that it felt like a physical weight on my chest.

It was during a music awards show early in my career, a night that should have been a triumph but had instead turned into a nightmare. I was set to perform a song that I had written about Carter, a song that laid bare all of my pain, confusion, and my desperate, misguided love for him.

But backstage, just minutes before I was set to go on, Carter had confronted me, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and possessiveness. He had belittled my talent, accused me of owing my success to our relationship, of being nothing without him.

And when I had tried to stand up for myself, tried to assert my own worth and value as an artist and a person, he had become violent, his hands gripping my arms with bruising force as he slammed me against the wall.

I remembered the pain, the shock of it, the way my head had snapped back against the concrete with a sickening crack. I remembered the fear, the helplessness, the certainty that this was it, that I was going to die at the hands of the man who claimed to love me.

But somehow, through some miracle of strength or desperation or sheer dumb luck, I had managed to break free, to stumble out onto the stage with my head held high but my heart shattered.

As I sang, as I poured all of my pain and my heartbreak into every note, I felt something inside of me begin to heal, a tiny flicker of hope and resilience that would grow and strengthen with every passing day.

Now, sitting in that therapist's office with Jared by my side, I felt that same flicker of hope and resilience burning bright within me, a tiny flame that refused to be extinguished no matter how hard the winds of my past tried to snuff it out.

As we left the therapist's office hand in hand, I marveled at the strength and resilience of the man beside me.

"Asher," he said softly, pulling me to a stop and turning to face me, his eyes shining with a mix of admiration and awe. "I just want you to know how incredibly proud I am of you. What you did today, facing your past head-on like that... it takes a kind of courage that most people can only dream of."

Back in the privacy of our hotel room, I felt the full weight of the day's emotions crashing down on me, leaving me raw and drained and aching for the comfort of Jared's touch. He seemed to sense my need without a word, his eyes soft with understanding as he led me into the bathroom.

There, he drew a warm bath, lighting candles and adding soothing oils to the water until the room was filled with a gentle,calming scent. He undressed me slowly, his fingers trailing over my skin with reverence, before guiding me into the tub and sliding in behind me.

As he pulled me back against his chest, his arms wrapping around me like a protective shield, I felt my ass rub against his cock. I felt the tension and pain of the day begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment.

Jared pressed soft kisses to my neck and shoulders, his lips warm and gentle against my skin. "I love you, Asher," he murmured, his voice low. "More than anything in this world."

"I love you too, Jared," I whispered. "And I'm ready to take the next step with you."

Jared's arms tightened around me, his breath catching in his throat. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice hesitant but filled with a hopeful uncertainty.

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. "I want to go public with our relationship," I said, my voice steady and sure. "I want the world to know how much I love you, how much you mean to me. I'm done hiding, done pretending to be someone I'm not."

Jared was silent for a long moment, and I felt a flicker of fear and doubt begin to creep into my heart. But then he turned me in his arms, his eyes shining with a mix of joy, wonder and love.

"Asher," he breathed. "Are you sure? I know how much you've struggled with the idea of being in the public eye. I don't want you to feel like you have to do this for me."

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