Asher
The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room as I watch Emma sleep peacefully beside me.
God, how drastically my life has changed in such a short span of time. Taking the helm of my family's business and navigating the intricate world of corporate negotiations— it's a far cry from the carefree days of taking photos around the globe.
And yet, as I look at Emma's serene expression, I realize that perhaps this newfound stability isn't so bad after all.
I spent the night making love to the woman I love and it couldn't have been more perfect. Feeling her warmth against me was a reminder of the deep connection we share. For the first time in a long time, I had my Emma back and I couldn't get enough of her.
As soon as we got home yesterday, she wanted to talk, delve into the depths of our relationship, and confront the demons that lurk in the shadows.
We didn't, though.
As much as I've been craving her honesty and openness, yesterday's celebration at the shelter was meant to be a joyous occasion, a testament to Emma's resilience and strength. Bringing up painful memories would only taint the joy of the moment.
As she stirs beside me, I lean down to press a tender kiss to her forehead, her sleepy murmur pulling me from my thoughts. "Em..." I whisper softly, brushing a lock of hair from her face.
"Hmmm..." she murmurs, her arms instinctively wrapping around me.
I smile, savoring the warmth of her embrace. "I have an early meeting," I explain, reluctant to leave the cocoon of our bed.
"But it's Saturday morning," she protests, her voice heavy with sleep.
I nod, guilt gnawing at me. "I know, but this merger with that Japanese company is in its final stages. I can't afford to miss it."
Her disappointment is palpable, and I hate myself for being the cause of it. "When will you be home?" she asks, her eyes searching mine.
I sigh, the weight of my obligations pressing down on me. "I'll probably spend the whole day at the office," I admit, offering her an apologetic smile.
Her expression softens, and she reaches out to cup my cheek. "It's okay," she says, her voice tinged with resignation.
"Hey..." I cup her cheek. "I want to be one hundred percent here for our talk, okay? Let me get these meetings out of the way, and then it's just us, I promise."
She bites her lower lips nervously, and I can see some shadows clouding her mind. "I'm scared you'll hate me after we talk," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.
I silence her with a kiss, pouring all the love and reassurance I can muster into the gesture. "Get one thing through your head, Em," I say firmly, my forehead resting against hers. "I could never, ever hate you."
Tears shimmer in her eyes as she pulls me into a tight embrace, and my heart swells with love for this woman who means everything to me. "I love you," she whispers,
"I love you too," I murmur against her neck.
Reluctantly, I peel myself away from her embrace, steeling myself for the day ahead.
"I'll cook us some dinner," she offers, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Text me when you're leaving the office."
"Sounds like a plan." I nod, pressing a final kiss to her forehead before forcing myself to get out of bed.
*****
The clinking of glasses and the murmurs of a business conversation surround me as I sit in the plush armchair of the hotel restaurant I've been in for the last few hours.
Across the table, our CFO drones on about profit margins and market trends, but my mind is elsewhere. Home. Emma. Just the thought of her waiting for me makes me antsy to wrap up this meeting and head back to her warm embrace.
We're celebrating the end of a hard negotiation, eating some fancy food by a renewed chef, but I'm craving some homemade dinner and the company of my wife.
It feels like ages when I finally manage to excuse myself gracefully. As I rise from the table, I catch sight of Clare through the glass partition separating the restaurant from the bar.
She's standing with her shoulders slumped, her hands gesturing wildly as she argues with a man. He looks familiar, but before I can get a better look, he storms off, leaving Clare alone at the bar, tears glistening in her eyes.
Instinctively, I step closer, my concern piqued. What could have happened to reduce Clare, usually so composed, to arguing with a man at a crowded bar? I make my way over to her, unsure of what to expect.
"Clare, hey, are you alright?" I ask softly, placing a gentle hand on her trembling shoulder.
She turns towards me, startled, and without a word, collapses into my arms. Shit. I hold her, feeling the weight of her sorrow pressing against me. She's a mess—her mascara smudged, her breath shaky.
"Hey, it's okay," I murmur, pulling away. "Do you need me to call a cab?"
Clare sniffles, shaking her head. "Asher..." She tries to stand but ends up falling back over the counter. "I'm not feeling well... I just..."
I hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to respond. The last thing I need is to get some paparazzi getting a photo of us, but seeing her like this tugs at something inside me. "I can drive you home," I finally say, guiding her towards the exit.
"Thank you, Ash."
As we make our way to the car, Clare's sobs fill the silence of the night. She pours out her heart to me, her voice raw with pain. She had thought the guy she was seeing was different, but it turned out he was just like all the others. Married. A liar.
I listen, offering what little comfort I can. We've known each other for a long time, but I never thought she was looking for something serious. Still, no one deserves to be lied to.
When we pull up in front of her building, Clare leans heavily against me, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "I'm feeling a bit dizzy," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "Could you... could you walk me to my place?"
I nod wordlessly, helping her out of the car and supporting her weight as we make our way to her apartment.
Once inside, I make sure she's settled on the couch. "There you go."
"Thank you, Ash," she murmurs, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. "I don't know what I would have done without you tonight."
"It's okay." I offer her a small, sympathetic smile. "Is there someone you'd like me to call for you before I go?"
"No... Uh... Could you just get me a glass of water, please?"
"Sure," I say, and when I return with the glass of water, Clare's expression shifts imperceptibly, a fleeting shadow passing over her features.
"Thanks so, Ash. I don't know what I'd do if you hadn't found me..." Clare murmurs, her voice tight as her eyes dart nervously around the room. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but there's something in the way she clutches the glass, her knuckles white against the crystal, that sends a shiver down my spine.
I hesitate, hovering awkwardly in the space between us and feeling the weight of her unspoken turmoil pressing down on me. "Are you sure you don't want me to call someone for you?" I ask.
Clare forces a smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "No... I just need a moment. Would you mind staying for a few minutes?"
The request catches me off guard, and I feel a flicker of apprehension at the thought of prolonging our interaction. Emma is waiting for me, and all I want is to go home. But wasn't it just yesterday that an inspirational speech urging men to treat women with more respect and empathy captivated me?
Clare has been a friend of mine for years and she's clearly not feeling well. I can stay for a little while.
"Uh, sure," I mumble, taking a seat across from her.
Clare's gaze lingers on me, her expression unreadable, before she gestures towards a bar cart near the couch. "Can I get you something to drink?" she offers, her tone almost too casual.
I shake my head, declining politely. "I'm good, thanks."
But Clare insists. "Come on, Asher," she coaxes, her voice tinged with an edge I can't quite place. "You look like you could use a drink. It's the least I can do after everything."
I hesitate, but the weight of Clare's expectant gaze bears down on me, and I find myself relenting.
Pouring myself a measure of Scotch, I take a cautious sip, but the burn of the alcohol does little to ease the sudden knot of tension coiled in my stomach.
"There you go," she murmurs, her voice soft. "Now, could you do me one last favor and grab some aspirin from my kitchen counter, please?"
I nod, eager to break the suffocating atmosphere that has unexpectedly enveloped us. But as I turn to leave, a nagging feeling settles over me, a voice whispering warnings in the recesses of my mind.
Something isn't right, and I can't shake the feeling that I'll regret coming to her place tonight.
_____
A/N: Uh Oh!!! What now, guys?
You guys are the best! Thank you so much for reading! Please remember to vote!
XOXO
Celeste