Page 38 of Charming
“Well, I had a high school boyfriend and it wasn’t anything other than adolescent lust at its worst. We hooked up at a party. All of my friends had had sex already and I guess I gave into the pressure of thinking I should be having sex too. One night I was making out with a guy at a party and, I’ll spare you the details, but losing my virginity was an awkward moment of inept limbs, sloppy kisses, and inappropriate giggles. Definitely not an experience I cared to repeat.”
Laughing a little I look at Asher and see that he’s not laughing, he just looks, contemplative. Taking a deep breath I push on – discussing Jeremy with Asher was never even a thought in my mind, but I know that it needs to be done so that Asher understands. The fact that it’s something I need to do speaks to Asher’s character because this matters to him, so I find that it also matters to me. “Jeremy, my ex, was my college boyfriend, but we met through our fathers, ironically, even though mine was gone by that time. You see, his father worked with mine, and when my father died and left me the company, while I didn’t take it over immediately, I was still involved on a small scale until I graduated college. At a work function I attended, Jeremy was also there with his father; we started talking that night, and then began dating. His family loved my father, and I knew my dad valued Jeremy’s father – his was a name I’d heard before. So, a relationship with Jeremy was something that just… happened. But the truth is, it shouldn’t have. I realize that now. And I guess I knew it most of the time, but thought it might eventually evolve to something that my dad would have liked or wanted. It’s amazing how a little distance and well, finding out your ex got another woman pregnant, gives you validation.” I laugh bitterly, but Asher’s jaw only tightens in response.
I tuck my hair behind my ear in a nervous gesture and look into his eyes, “I didn’t love Jeremy. Not in the way a woman should love a man she’s about to marry. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I realized my unhappiness and knew I was simply going through the motions long before I finally ended things. I regret that when I finally realized what I was doing that it happened to coincide with his betrayal, but it is what it is.”
“What made you realize the truth?”
“You mean, besides the fact that on my wedding day, the day that’s supposed to be the happiest day of a woman’s life, I was anything but? There was also the fact that I drug my feet every step of the way, and barely had a hand in planning my own wedding. I was less than engaged in the entire process. And when I reflected on what my parents had, and what I wanted, there was a great disparity. Or, how about the fact that I had already decided to walk out before the ceremony began?” Asher’s eyes widen and I nod my head. “I had just decided to get the hell out when my stepsister walked in and dropped the bomb in my lap. But that only reinforced the rightness of my decision. Before she uttered a word, I had already realized that I didn’t love Jeremy at all and couldn’t go through with a loveless marriage. I didn’t want a life with him or even a friendship. I just wanted the connection that he had to my father.” Tears fill my eyes and I don’t try to stop them this time. “I loved my father so much, Asher. And he would be so ashamed of me.”
“What do you mean? Because of us? Because you married me?”
“No, not at all,” I smile at him, “he would like you a lot actually. And I know you would have liked him too. Although, he would give me hell for our wedding he would say, ‘Are you loving life, Ella? Because as long as you’re happy I’m happy to let you figure out your journey, whatever that entails.’”
“He sounds amazing.”
“He was. But, I think he would be ashamed of me because the marriage that he had with my mother was beautiful. It was full of light and love and respect and passion. The way he looked at my mother, and she looked at him… that’s burned into my memory. It doesn’t matter how young I was during that time, I remember. I couldn’t forget it if I tried. He would be ashamed that I thought for one second that Jeremy was good enough for me. I can guarantee he wouldn’t have chalked that up to my life’s journey because anyone could see that we were so wrong for each other.”
He hands me a napkin and I wipe the tears that I didn’t even realize had fallen down my cheeks. “So please, do not make one more decision or question anything between us because of what happened with Jeremy. He has no place here. I’ve been happier with you over two days than I’ve been with Jeremy… well since I can remember. Yes, I felt betrayed. Yes, I was hurt. But it was more about letting go of that tie to my dad, and making him proud of me, than anything else.”
Asher stands from his chair and comes to sit next to me instead of across from me. Taking my face in his hands in an act that’s become familiar, he places a gentle kiss on my lips. “I just didn’t want to hurt you too.”
Looking into his eyes for a moment, I smile then lean forward and press my mouth to his again. He opens for me and I sweep my tongue into his mouth, eager to show him without words just how fine I am and to erase any doubt from his mind. When I pull away, he has a soft smile on his lips and nods his head before he returns to his chair once more.
Our food was delivered while I was talking and Asher gave them a nod of thanks but I had never stopped talking or acknowledged it. Now I feel ravenous and dig into the food I’ve ordered. “Tell me more about your dad,” Asher says.
“What do you want to know?”
“Tell me something that not many people know about him. Something that makes you happy.”
Immediately I grin, “I know just what to tell you.” I laugh as many memories flow through my mind, but one stands out from the rest.
“Well don’t keep me waiting.”
“My dad knew how to play the harmonica. He always had his, a silver one, tucked into his blazer pocket or the front pocket of his shirt. No one knew. It’s not something he would play in public and he never put on a show, but he would play for my mom and me. I remember dancing around the kitchen as he played; he would stomp his foot in time to the music and my dancing. My mom would laugh at his enthusiasm and sometimes when I close my eyes, I swear I can still hear her.”
“Did he still play it even after she passed away?”
“Yes, but not as much. I mean, as I grew up I quit dancing when he played, but he would still pull it out when he was trying to cheer me up, or sometimes he would simply hold it in his hand rubbing his thumb over it as if doing so brought back the same memories of my mother for him as they do for me. Late at night sometimes, as I would fall asleep in my room, he would play in his office and the music would drift down the hallway. I have his harmonica. It’s one of my most valued treasures.”
“Thank you for sharing with me.”
“Thank you for asking.”
Asher opens his mouth to say something else but before he can an individual sitting down at our table interrupts us. “Excuse me, but aren’t you Asher Charming?”
Surprise clear on Asher’s face, he takes in the woman seated to his right smiling cheerfully at him. She’s scantily clad – wearing a bikini so small her double d’s are barely contained. She’s wearing a cover up over the top, but given the fact it’s white and sheer, she may as well not have bothered. She must be cold, because I’m pretty sure her nipples could cut through steak and while she’s practically devouring my husband, yes that’s right, my husband, with her eyes, she’s twirling her hair. Her eyes are hungry and the look on her face clearly says, “fuck me.” I don’t like it. Not one bit. My eyes move back to Asher’s face and bless him his aren’t looking anywhere but at her face. It lowers my hackles a little. But only a little.
“Yes, I’m Asher.”
“Oh my god, I knew it. I’m such a big fan.”
My mouth falls open in shock when she leans closer to Asher and presses her boobs against the side of his arm. Annoyance and possessiveness flash through my body making it heat up in a sick wave that makes me almost rise from my chair. A quick day dream of me grabbing her by the hair and flinging her away from Asher like she’s as light as a feather and where I’m apparently wonder woman flashes through my mind and makes me grin. Asher looks shocked and is barely disguising the grimace on his face. “Um thank you. I appreciate your saying hello. I hope you enjoy your day,” he says to her kindly but clearly in a dismissive tone. However, it’s clear she doesn’t get the point. At all.
“Oh my god, what are the chances that I would run into you in Cabo San Lucas? Why are you here? Are you filming a movie? I totally saw in the tabloids that you got married. Is this her?” She jerks a thumb in my direction, but her eyes don’t leave his face. And if I’m not mistaken her tone became a bit irritated when she asked that particular question.
“I’m sorry…”
“Tabatha.”
