Asher ✓

46 | limbo

MARCH 7, 2016 / DELROV HOUSEHOLD

Asher swung his leg to the floor. The past few exceptionally cold days had made his left leg seize and twinge with cramps. Today was warmer, and he could happily report that his leg felt normal. The phantom pains were becoming less frequent. Asher was glad that his leg was acclimatizing to being exposed from the kneecap downwards. The sooner it became just an appendage rather than a wound, the sooner he could figure out how to resume racing.

Vasily greeted Asher as he entered the kitchen. "Morning. There's eggs and toast on the counter for you."

"Thanks," Asher leant on his crutch as he pulled open the cutlery drawer. "Did Vanessa stay the night?"

"No," Vasily said around a mouthful of his breakfast. "She drove home around ten yesterday."

Surprisingly, to both of them, Asher took the news rather well. In retrospect, he realised he had known his father had been falling in love again, if only subconsciously. He shaved more frequently, bought a new pinstriped shirt, which — knowing his minimalist lifestyle — was a big deal and started playing the radio in the morning again.

Before taking Vanessa on their first date, Vasily had asked Asher's permission. To anyone else, the gesture was odd, but Asher was touched. He understood what his father was really asking him. If this happened to be serious, could you accept another woman into this family?

"Yes," he found himself readily saying.

And it was a good thing. 

He wholeheartedly believed, now more than ever, that life was too short to be holding back from anything. Ekaterina was kind and resilient and just beautiful inside and out. He missed her dearly. But Asher believed that each person was created whole. They weren't carved with ridges and pockets that only one other soul could perfectly supplement. No, Asher knew that love could happen in many places at once, and each would be equally special. 

Beyond all his philosophical reasoning, it was just good to see Vasily happy and fresh-faced again.

"Do you need me to drive you to the physio on my way to work? We'd need to leave in about half an hour, though."

"No, it's alright," Asher took a seat opposite Vasily. "Ryanel is taking me."

"Okay. Good lad, him."

Asher nodded absentmindedly, buttering his toast. This would be the first time he and Ryanel met after the kiss. The kiss itself was not horrible. 

In fact, he could still summon up residual butterflies just by replaying the moment. Ryanel had frozen up for a few seconds. He'd pulled away ever so slightly to let a shaky breath out, which felt warm on Asher's lips, but they'd ended up kissing once more. Just a peck, but at least he wasn't rejected.

Afterwards, they'd messaged, but in the superficial way that young men on social media interact. It would be small talk — imagine endless questions structured "How was [the lecture/your day/the physio]?" — for a few minutes before one of them found a way to excuse themselves.

Mum needs help with the washing.

Dinner's ready.