Page 43 of If the Stars Align
I’m making spaghetti and meatballs because it’s one of Asher’s favorite meals and seems relatively simple to put together. The meatballs are pre-made and come frozen in a bag, so I dump them into a pan with jarred tomato sauce. I wait for my pot of water to boil, then toss in the spaghetti. That’s when I notice a crackling sound.
Shit. I must have turned the heat too high on the meatballs, because they’re all charred on the bottom. Most of the tomato sauce has evaporated too, and the remaining bits are thick and stuck to the bottom of the pan. I glance at the spaghetti. In my rush to check on the meatballs, I forgot to stir the pasta, and most of the strands are glued together. So I do what any self-respecting chef does when they manage to mess up a meal that a child could probably make. I cry.
Asher must hear me because he comes into the kitchen to survey the situation. “Oh no, what happened?” he asks, pulling me into a hug.
“Just look,” I say, rubbing the tears from my eyes.
He lifts the lid on the meatballs and takes a peek at the spaghetti. Then he laughs and shakes his head. He’s still looking at the food when he says it. “I love you, Sunny.”
I look up at him, stunned.
Asher turns from the charred meatballs to me. “I love you,” he says, looking into my eyes this time. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
I press my head into his chest and wrap my arms around him. “I love you too,” I say.
How could I not love Asher? What’s not to love?
I bring Asher home with me for the holidays. Well, not home, exactly. I don’t feel comfortable staying at my mom’s with a boyfriend, so we get a hotel room in Cleveland instead. My mom doesn’t resist as much as I’d anticipated. She’s thrilled that I’ll be introducing her to a boyfriend for the first time. She offers to take us to one of the best steakhouses in the city the night we arrive.
Asher’s nervous, I can tell. He packed a suit and tie to wear to dinner. I told him he didn’t have to, but he’d already made up his mind, so I decided to dress up too. I put on the little black dress I packed. It’s long-sleeved and hits just above my knees, and I finish the look with black boots with very high heels, which means I won’t have to stand on my tip-toes to kiss Asher tonight.
“Okay, I’m ready,” I call out to him from the bathroom after I’m done with my makeup. I’m spritzing myself with perfumewhen he walks in.
“Wow,” he says, dragging a hand down his clean-shaven face. He stands behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist and gazes at my reflection in the mirror. “What did I do to deserve you?” he says.
The way he’s admiring me sends shivers up my spine. I turn to face him and let my eyes fall from his piercing gaze, to his chest, to the abs I know are hiding under the button-down shirt he just ironed. I brace my fingers against them. And suddenly we’re kissing, and before I know it, Asher’s lifting me onto the countertop and sliding off my underwear.
Thankfully we’re not late for dinner, but my mom still manages to beat us. When Asher and I walk into the restaurant, she’s already seated. She sees us and stands eagerly, a bright smile on her face.
“Sweetie, hi!” she says, reaching out to give me a warm hug. Then she takes a step back to get a good look at Asher. “Well, aren’t you a handsome couple!” she tells us.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Asher says, reaching out his hand.
We take our seats at the table—Asher and I on one side, my mom on the other. Then a man walks up to us. I assume he’s there to welcome us to the restaurant. He’s dressed impeccably and smells very nice.
He sits down next to my mom.
“Sweetheart,” she says, as I look over at her curiously. “This is my friend, Luis.”
I shift my gaze to Luis, then back to my mom again. Luisreaches out his hand.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” he says with a warm smile. He has a slight accent, and his voice has a soft rasp to it that’s quite pleasing to the ear. “And you must be Asher,” Luis continues, greeting him.
Have I assessed this situation correctly? Does my mom have aboyfriend? To my knowledge, she hasn’t dated anyone seriously in years. She’s so busy, after all. But people change, I guess. Maybe her priorities have shifted. Maybe she finally realized shedoesn’twant work to consume her life.
Maybe hell froze over.
“So nice to meet you!” I finally stammer.
“Luis and I met at a medical conference in Miami back in June. He’s a surgeon, too,” my mom explains as she gazes at him adoringly.
June? That was six months ago!
“General surgeon,” Luis clarifies with a dismissive wave. “ I do the easy stuff. Not like your brilliant mom, here.” He gives her a sweet smile, and she blushes.
Yes—myhopelessly jaded mother is blushing. What in theTwilight Zoneis going on here? In all the time I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her glow like this.
Frankly, it gives me hope where I’d all but lost it. Hope in happy endings.
