Page 86 of Faking All the Way
Daniel pulls out his phone and I feel mine buzz in my back pocket as he sends me a text with the details. The address, the time, what to wear. It’s all very organized, very Daniel.
“We’ll let you know,” I tell him, forcing something that probably resembles a smile.
“Perfect.” Daniel steps back from the door, but not before taking one more look at our disheveled appearances. His gaze lingers on my messy hair, my flushed cheeks. “Sorry again for the… interruption. You two should get back to whatever you were doing.”
There’s something bitter in the way he says it, as if the words taste bad in his mouth.
Asher pulls me closer, his arm sliding fully around my waist now. “Oh, we intend to.”
The casual confidence in his voice, the complete lack of shame or awkwardness, makes Daniel’s expression sour. Heturns on his heel and leaves without another word, and I close the door behind him.
As soon as I hear the sound of a car starting and tires crunching over snow, I lean against the door like that will somehow keep him from coming back. I blow out a breath, the forbidden thrill and adrenaline of what Asher and I just did fading a little as I grimace.
“Why would he invite me to his engagement party?” I wonder out loud.
Asher shrugs, snorting. “Why does Daniel do anything? To be a dick.”
I huff a laugh at that, because he’s got my ex pegged pretty well for not having known him long.
“I don’t know if I want to go,” I admit quietly.
“Then don’t.”
The simplicity of his answer catches me off guard. “What?”
“Don’t go,” Asher repeats, stepping closer and running a hand down my arm. “Daniel’s clearly an ass, and you don’t owe him anything.”
His bluntness makes me smile in spite of myself. All my life, I’ve been the accommodating one, the person who goes along with things to keep the peace. I’ve spent so much time being agreeable that I sometimes forget I have the option to just… say no.
“I don’t know.” I chew my lips. “I don’t want to seem rude or petty.”
“Fuck that.” Asher scowls. “You don’t have to be polite to someone who doesn’t deserve it. Daniel never worried about being rude to you when you were together, did he? Never cared if his little comments hurt your feelings or made you doubt yourself. Your comfort matters more than appearances.”
“I know.” I swallow. “I’ve just… never been good at disappointing people.”
“Practice.” There’s humor in his voice now, but I can tell he’s still serious underneath it. He cups my chin, tilting my head up a bit. “If you decide you want to go to this party, bright eyes, I’ll be right there with you. I’ll hold your hand and have your back and make sure you have an escape route if you need one. But you should go becauseyouwant to, not because you feel obligated or worried about what other people will think.”
The simple promise means more to me than he probably realizes. Having someone in my corner, supporting my choices instead of questioning them or making me feel guilty for putting myself first, is something I’m still getting used to.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my throat feeling tight.
“For what?”
“For making me feel like my feelings matter. LikeImatter.”
“You do matter.” He brushes his thumb over my cheekbone. “Your feelings, your comfort, your happiness—they all matter. They always will. And you should never have to thank someone for treating you well. That should be the bare minimum.”
His words settle into some hollow place in my chest that I didn’t even know was empty. I don’t trust myself to speak without my voice breaking, so instead I wrap my arms around him in a hug, closing my eyes as I let myself relax against the solid warmth of his chest.
He holds me close, one hand rubbing slow circles on my back, and for a moment I just let myself be held. Let myself feel cared for without worrying about whether I deserve it or if I’m being too needy.
I still don’t know if I’ll go to Daniel’s engagement party. The thought of walking into that country club, of facing him and Maya and everyone who knew us as a couple, makes my stomach twist.
But I do know one thing with absolute certainty: I’m not the same woman Daniel left behind. Not the one who apologizedfor taking up space, who twisted herself into impossible shapes trying to be what he wanted. Not the one who accepted crumbs of affection and called it love.
I’m different now. Stronger. More sure of myself.
And no small part of that is because of Asher.
