Asher
I should be at work.
There's a pile of paperwork neatly sitting on my desk, and a few other tasks I need to complete by the end of the day, but I'm craving some fresh air and a momentary escape from this suffocating corporate environment.
My first thought is to call Emma to see if she wants to have lunch with me, but she's been so busy with last-minute preparations for the shelter's reopening that I don't want to bother her. After our honeymoon, we found some sort of new agreement in our relationship. We're not fighting or anything, but there's this new tension between us that's hard to ignore.
Needing a moment to myself, I turn off my phone and leave the corporate chaos behind. Max is throwing me a celebratory dinner at his place tonight, so I give myself the luxury of tuning out the world for a little while since I'll be working late today.
As I wander through the lively streets of New York, I stumble upon a charming art gallery. Entering the place, I'm surrounded by a myriad of emotions captured on canvas. The strokes and colors speak to me in a language only art understands. One small piece, in particular, catches my eye, tugging at the strings of my own experiences.
Amidst the hustle of the business world, the art resonates deeply within me, reminding me of the passion that once fueled my creative pursuits as a photographer. Without hesitation, I decide to purchase it, feeling a profound connection to the artist's expression.
Leaving the gallery with the carefully wrapped artwork, I decide to revisit another old haunt, a small coffee shop in the same vicinity. This one is special, bearing memories of a time when life was simpler.
Stepping into the familiar warmth of the coffee shop, I'm met with an unexpected sight.
Clare, sitting alone in one of the booths.
I stand frozen in place for a second, knowing deep down I already have enough trouble with Emma, and the last thing I need is for the press to catch sight of me and Clare together.
Before I have to leave, she looks up, and our gazes lock. She seems surprised to see me standing here, but soon her face lights up with a smile.
"I'll just say hi and leave," I think to myself. Clare and I have always gotten along well. There's no need for me to be rude.
As I get closer, I see her discreetly running her fingers under her eyes. Shit. Is she crying?
"Asher, hi," she stands up to greet me, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
"Hey," I clear my throat, trying to put some distance between us.
"What a surprise to see you around these parts..."
"Yeah, I decided to go for a walk for some fresh air and ended up in an art gallery nearby," I smile, pointing to the piece I'm carrying.
"Guess we're both on the same boat." She gives me a small smile. "I'm having one of those days, too."
"Oh..."
"Let me get you some coffee." She squeezes my hand and walks to the front desk before I have time to say anything.
Looking around the place, I take a seat and pull my phone from my pocket. For a moment, I consider sending Emma a text, but I end up deciding to tell her I ran into Clare later at home.
"Here you go." Clare slides into the booth in front of me. "Black coffee. No sugar. No cream. Just like the way you like it."
"Thanks." I take a sip of my coffee. "How have you been?"
"Exhausted." She looks down. "You remember Clinton, right? He's been promoted to director of photography and has been a pain in my ass lately."
"Oh!" My eyes narrow in disbelief. "I always thought that would be you someday."
"Well..." She lets out a sigh. "Turns out I'm not good enough."
"Come on, don't say that." I shake my head. "You have an exceptional eye for detail, and your ability to curate captivating visual stories is amazing."
She squeezes my hand, her lips curling into a smile. "Thank you, Ash."
"You know it's true," I smile, discreetly pulling my hand away.
"What about you?" She takes a sip of her coffee. "I heard you got married. I thought you'd be on your honeymoon by now."
"Yeah." I nod. "We made a quick trip to The Caribbean, but work has been crazy lately, so we couldn't stay long."
"Right.." She leans back in her chair, studying me. "I hadn't realized you had married Emma Cavendish. Her father is quite the news lately."
"He'll be running for governor, yes."
"Yeah, I just..." She looks down, her head shaking.
"Just what?" I ask curiously.
"No, it's just that you have always been so upstanding about honesty and integrity and... I guess I was just taken by surprise when I realized you'd marry someone whose father is... Well... James Cavendish."
I sit up straight. "Emma is nothing like her father."
"I'm sorry." She closes her eyes for a second. "I didn't mean to offend you. I just saw the news about her and her dad today and..."
"What news?" I ask, my curiosity piqued as I lean forward.
She takes a deep breath, her gaze fixed on mine. "James Cavendish made some controversial comments a few hours ago about the economy at a recent event. It's all over the news, and it's causing quite a stir."
I feel a knot tighten in my stomach. James's involvement in political matters was already a source of concern, but the idea that he's making headlines for controversial remarks adds an extra layer of worry. "What did he say?" I ask.
Clare glances around, ensuring no one is eavesdropping on our conversation. "He essentially made statements that go against traditional economic principles, highlighting taxation policies, government spending, trade policies, monetary policies, and excessive regulations."
My chest expands with a deep breath. "He what?"
"Along with some harsh comments about immigrants. It's causing quite a bit of backlash, especially given his reputation and the upcoming election."
"Shit..." I murmur.
"Are you okay?" Clare asks, concern clear in her eyes. "I thought you've seen the news by now."
"No, I turned my phone off when I left the office," I admit, a mixture of frustration and worry settling in. "I had no idea about this. Emma hasn't mentioned anything."
"Really? She was standing by his side, so..." She stops when I frown. "Anyway... Maybe you guys didn't have a chance to talk."
"Yeah..." I look at her. "I just..." Dread settles over me as Clare hints at the potential impact of James's controversial statements on both Emma and my businesses. If James's comments cause a significant public backlash, it could indirectly affect your business as well. Investors, clients, and partners might become wary.
"I'm sorry, Ash." She leans forward, reaching for my hand. "I know public perception matters a lot in the business world, and having your wife and father-in-law..."
"I should get going." I stand up abruptly, not giving her a chance to finish whatever she was about to say.
"Oh..." She stands up on reflex. "Is there something I can do to help?"
"Not really, but it was nice seeing you, Clare." I squeeze her shoulder. "I hope things work out at the magazine."
"Yeah..." She gives me a small smile, her eyes searching mine.
"Thanks for the coffee," I say before walking out of the coffee.
The moment I hit the busy streets of New York, I turn on my phone, and sure enough, there are hundreds of missed calls and texts waiting for me.
None of them are from Emma, though.
*****
The numbers on my computer are all blurred as I stare at my phone, waiting for Emma to answer. The repeated rings seem to echo through my empty office, and each unanswered call intensifies the gnawing worry in the pit of my stomach.
After several unsuccessful attempts to reach her, I slam the phone down, frustration mounting. The urge to see her, to understand what's happening, becomes overwhelming.
Grabbing my phone, I make my way to my car, the engine roaring to life as I speed towards the women's shelter. Something deep inside me tells me I should wait until I get home to talk to her, but the seed of doubt that Emma and James are working on something suspicious behind my back has me in knots all day.
As I arrive at the shelter a little before five in the afternoon, the sight that greets me is astonishing.
The women's shelter, once ravaged by fire, now stands in the process of rebirth. The walls are painted, the furniture arranged, and the atmosphere is filled with an air of anticipation for the upcoming reopening.
I make my way through the hustle and bustle, inquiring about Emma's whereabouts, and a kind volunteer points me toward her office, mentioning how tirelessly she's worked to make it all possible.
A sense of pride washes over me, and I realize how far out of the loop of Emma's life I have been. I try to tell myself it's because work has consumed me, but it still makes me a little guilty.
Navigating the newly remodeled corridors, I finally reach her office door. I can hear voices inside, and as I push the half door open, my eyes find a scene that stops me dead in my tracks.
Emma and Frank hugging each other.
They're talking animatedly about the reopening, their smiles and shared excitement making me feel like an intruder in my own wife's life.
"Hey, Asher!" Emma's eyes light up as she notices me, breaking away from the hug. "I didn't expect you here."
"Yeah, well, I tried calling," I mutter, my gaze flickering between them.
"I must've missed it with all the chaos," she replies, her tone casual, but I sense a hint of discomfort.
"Frank, good to see you," I manage a strained smile, though I'm sure my eyes betray the unease I'm feeling.
"You too, Asher," Frank glances at me, before bringing his attention back to Emma. "I should get going, Em. I'll forward you those links before our meeting tomorrow."
"I appreciate it, Frank," Emma says. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Emma steps forward when it's just us, attempting to bridge the invisible gap between us. "Is everything okay?"
"Is everything okay?" I echo, the frustration bubbling to the surface. "I've been trying to reach you, and you're here, wrapped up in a hug with Frank."
"It's not what you think..."
"Really? Because it looks like you've been avoiding my calls, and now I find you hugging him in your office."
"Asher..." She shakes her head. "Frank just got the news a group of boys he's mentoring has been released from juvenile detention, and they're here for the reopening. Frank has been a mentor and counselor for them, helping them reintegrate into society. We were just happy about that."
Closing my eyes, I let out a deep breath. "Where were you this morning?"
Her face pales as she swallows. "My father had this thing he asked me to attend with him."
"An event where he spilled enough bullshit to spark significant public and media attention, creating a storm of criticism and backlash."
She looks away, but I just keep going. "He associated The Sullivan name with controversial proposals that go against our economic principles. He fucking violated a handful of human rights, Emma. What the fuck were you doing there?"
"Asher, I didn't know he was going to say those things." Emma's eyes widen as the weight of her father's actions seems to sink in. "I wouldn't have attended if I did."
But my frustration boils over. "You were there by his side. How could you not know what he was going to say? Do you realize the impact this could have on our lives, on my businesses, on people's lives?"
"I'm sorry, Asher... I should have been more cautious," she admits, her voice trembling. "I didn't expect him to make such extreme statements."
"We need to address this." Clare's words from earlier resonate in my mind, and I look deep into her eyes. "You need to distance yourself from your father's statements and make it clear that you don't endorse or support those views. We can't afford to be associated with this."
"I'll talk to him." Her eyes widen, and for the first time, I understand the emotion behind them.
Fear.
She's afraid of her father.
Well, that changes a lot of things.
_____
A/N: Thank you so much for your support, guys! You're the best! Things are about to get a bit complicated for Emma & Asher! I can't wait for the next chapter! <3
XOXO
Celeste