'And I just wanna tell you

It takes everything in me, not to call you

And I wish I could run to you

And I hope you know that every time I don't

I almost do

I almost do.'

*ASHER'S POV*

October 12, 2023.

"Thank you for coming."

It took me two long minutes to type those words, and still, as soon as I lifted my gaze to Althea's crossed arms over her chest, I wanted to erase them.

"I did it for Munisa."

That was a blow to my chest, though it was a million times better than the impact a goodbye could have had.

"These kids are hard to resist, right?" I chuckled, wishing they could still be here with us.

Who would have thought I would say that while being alone with my Peachy?

The thing was that when they'd been here, she'd been sitting inches away from me, and now, she was standing too far, her eyes already on the door, only coming back to me at their mention, even if it was in an accusing squint.

"Wait... did you plan everything with Munisa?" She even uncrossed her arms and took a half-step closer to point her finger at me as I glanced from left to right, trying to understand what she meant. "That she didn't have anyone to walk her here in time."

"What? Do you really think I could use an innocent child like that?"

Before the sentence was even fully out, I was met by her cocked eyebrow, the blank stare under piercing through me too easily.

"Okay, I could have. But I didn't. I swear." I raised my hand in both honesty and surrender. It could never be anything else diving into these deep brown eyes.

That was why I'd been able to keep that lie for all these years, because I didn't have them in front of me, though when she shook her head, breaking our stare, I also remembered why it had been so much harder without them.

My heart was already stumbling over its own rhythm, trying to chase her as she was slipping through my fingers, which were too slow on the screen.

"It's getting late. I should..."

"Althea." Her name fell from my lips naturally.

The syllables were easy to pronounce, and I didn't even have to move my mouth; they came from deeper, where more words rushed when our gazes clashed again, even if I kept them inside, turning to the keyboard.

"Stay... for dinner?"

"What?" She blinked at me as if it were the last thing she expected from me, the movement only accentuating the heaviness in her eyelids and betraying how exhausted she was.

If she'd slept as little as the zero hour I had last night, I could understand. I'd been slow and tired too, before she'd arrived.

"I can order pizza."

"Don't you have a meal tray waiting for you?"

I had. But she, what did she have?

Carol had told me she hadn't eaten anything else than a tea and a half-cookie throughout the day, and I doubted she would order a real meal if she was alone in her hotel room tonight. Would she even get some sleep?

Yes, it was a lame excuse when I was the one who had ruined her appetite and sleep. I should have let her go and avoided her more pain.

But like an addict, I told myself I could fix the damage I'd done.

"The night nurses will gladly take it."

Like an addict, my trembling fingers moved on their own as I opened my texts.

"I already ordered. Hawaiian pizza?"

Like an addict, I was desperate.

***

*ALTHEA'S POV*

I hadn't realized how hungry I was until Asher came back from his door with two cardboard boxes on his lap, and the warm perfume of garlic, tomato, and crusty dough melted the knots that had been filling my stomach one by one.

There had been a lot, however, and the lumps remaining still tightened as he joined me, and seeing the pile he had to put with one hand on the small round table, I offered my 'help'.

I didn't even finish the word actually, as he sharply shook his head no, with a glare that stopped me from moving a finger, even as the bag on top of the pizza boxes wavered.

This look wasn't directed towards me, though; it was towards the word and his left arm when an involuntary jerk of the latter almost knocked over the glasses he'd already set with straws on the over-bed table.

But besides this incident, he indeed didn't need my help, putting the smaller box, which I guessed was the dessert into the mini fridge and covering the round table in front of me with the rest.

"Do you do this often?" I asked as he pulled a bottle of spicy oil from an easy-access cupboard, filled with other condiments, Nutella, and more I didn't get to glimpse as he closed it quickly to put the bottle on the table and type.

"Sometimes, when Pax comes here to see a game, or when there's broccoli on the menu."

This explained why the cupboard was so well stocked, and with the mini fridge and a microwave, the small space was optimized into a nice and practical corner kitchen.

In fact, the whole space was arranged to be nice and practical, from the desk near the window to the TV across the bed, the support rails in every important spot, and the table he'd unfolded from the wall, while every piece of furniture was in dark polished wood, matching perfectly with the walls in shades of steel blue and beige.

I had time to observe them and even catch a chip of the paint between a photo from our high school graduation and a kid drawing since he didn't even let me pour myself a glass of water.

"You're sure there's nothing I can do?" I tried again, choosing my words carefully this time.

I didn't doubt he could do everything perfectly, but I couldn't sit here doing nothing.

"You can eat." He opened one pizza box for me, the right corner of his lips lifting into a small smirk. Well, since the other side was always pinched, it was hard to tell if it was a smile or a smirk, but the difference was flashing in his eyes as they pierced through me before I even glanced down, and my stomach growl almost covered my gasp.

"You really ordered Hawaiian pizza?"

He simply nodded, going back to serve the drinks, without adding anything. Not a word on his tablet, not even an outraged sigh, although his gaze followed each of my movements as I grabbed a pre-cut slice of the scandalous mix of sweet and salty, which tasted a lot like a sorry.

Could it be enough though?

"And you can also tell me about you."

"Don't you know everything already?" The question was still bitter in the back of my throat, even as I took a sip of the flavored water he put in front of me. "It was you, right? Who asked Kylie to text me on every anniversary?"

Bittersweet, more exactly, as he nodded.

To think all these lonely times I'd imagined him in another world, he'd always been here. Right here behind these messages. Right here, like now, as we ate pizza—Hawaiian pizza.

Well, his was surely another flavor. Four seasons, maybe? But he hadn't opened his box yet, too busy between typing on his tablet and staring through my soul.

"Still, I didn't know you were coming here, and you usually don't say much more than 'I'm fine' in your texts."

"Well, I didn't know it myself at the beginning of the week." I shrugged, fiddling with my half-eaten slice of pizza as much as with my thoughts to piece back the past days together.

Monday felt like a lifetime ago, a lifetime of all the pictures on the walls, his penetrating eyes, and the ring at my fingers all mingling together.

"My boss decided to send me on vacation at the last minute because I'll maybe get promoted, and it was too late to plan a trip with... anyone. So I ended up volunteering here after watching a video about grief."

I still remember too clearly the woman's words about sharing to get better. If I'd known I would be sharing a pizza with the one I'd been grieving though...

Or at least, sitting at a table in front of him because I was more fiddling with the food than eating, and he had nothing but my words in his throat as he swallowed harshly before subtly changing the subject.

"You're getting promoted?"

As subtly as Asher and an AI voice could be, though I gladly took the lifeline before diving into a conversation I was too tired to have.

"It's not sure yet. I have to convince the whole board next month, but if I do, you'll have the new creative director of Cute Couture in front of you."

I couldn't help the warmth tickling my cheeks with a smile at the sound of it, and even more at the sight of his widening eyes, lighting up with a bright glint, and the jade shades could have almost turned transparent if it hadn't been for the light crease between his eyebrows as he focused on the screen on the side of his wheelchair.

"Congrats! It's your dream. But why not at Kiddom?"

Kiddom, my dream firm... I'd almost forgotten about it.

"Well, let's say working at Kiddom wasn't a dream."

"What do you mean?" As fast as his gaze had lit up, his whole face darkened with worry and a look I recognized instantly.

It was the one when he was about to throw hands, and even if he could only move one, I didn't doubt it could have been enough for him to strangle someone.

"Oh no, don't worry. They didn't hurt me. It's just..." I sighed, watching his right fist loosen while my throat closed off. "When I went for the interview, I don't remember anything of what I've said. I was... in robot mode."

There was no better word to describe it, and my lips twitched into a half-smile at life's irony as I risked a glance from his tablet to the millions of emotions in his green eyes.

"I guess it's the reason why they chose me. They needed a robot to do all the dirty work, and for two years, it's what I did, getting no recognition, working overtime, even during quarantines, and..." My voice trailed off in front of the shadows of his gaze, almost as dark as the memories flashing through my mind, and I quickly shook them away.

"Anyway, when I realized they wouldn't give me any opportunity to evolve professionally, I quit and went to CC. There, they really gave me a chance. I've already got to work on several collections, and I've learned a lot, especially thanks to my boss, Linda.

"She's so cool. It's even her who encouraged me to apply for this position."

"And to take a vacation?"

"Yes, so it's her you have to curse for seeing me here." I tried to joke, or at least, shrug off some of the heaviness in the air before it could crush us again.

After all, we were supposed to eat, weren't we?

"And what about your fiancé?"

My lips opened, but my slice of pizza ended up in the box again. "What about my fiancé? Do you really want to talk about this?"

I wasn't sure where we were going with this talk. Except down, down like my eyes to the ring at my finger, down with my stomach at the prospect of this talk, down to another disaster because the Asher I knew was rather jealous. Not 'rather' actually.

Nothing about Asher was 'rather'.

"Yes, I want to know who he is and if he takes good care of you."

Even now, as the AI voice pronounced these words as steadily as the weather forecast, the pale green intensity with which he searched for my gaze wasn't rather.

"Yes, he does, and he's..."

How did you even describe your fiancé to your ex? If I could even call him my ex, when there had been no break-up, no goodbye, only an open wound I'd had to stitch by myself before Jordon had slowly entered my life.

"He works in finance, but mostly, he's sweet, patient, understanding..." I twisted the ring on my finger, a mindless gesture I wouldn't have noticed if his gaze hadn't been weighing on each of my movements, from my fingertip to the deep rises and falls of my chest. "He prefers talking things out rather than arguing, and he doesn't lie to me. Basically, the contrary of you."

It was a sharp way to put it, though not as sharp as the contrast between the soft brown I pictured in my mind and the ardent green of his stare as I lifted my chin, daring him to say something, anything.

For all that, I surely didn't expect the 'yes, it's open' he typed as three knocks echoed against the door.

"Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt, but we have a wanted notice. Francis lost his teddy." Carol's light tone floated through the room like a feather in a minefield, making me take in how many unspoken words ready to blow had filled the air between us.

Even my voice was cracking as I cleared my throat. "Do you need help? What does it look like?"

"It's an elephant. He had it when he arrived, but I didn't see when he left," Asher replied, leaning back to maneuver his wheelchair at the same time I moved to get up.

However, the nurse stopped us both with a tsk. "No, don't move. I'll just quickly check around. You, enjoy your meal before it cools down."

Between her index finger and her worried glance, none of us dared to protest, and like two kids who had to finish their dinner, we turned back to the pizza, which must have been cold by now, although the electricity remaining in the air could have still reheated them.

"Don't mind me! You know, you can talk." Carol waved at us, her hand the only part of her peeking above the bed as she kneeled there, and it was almost like—"Like I'm not there."

And it was the problem. When we were alone, there was so much standing between us that any small talk could turn into heavy silence.

It had happened when Asher had asked 'about me', and it occurred again when seeing his fingers were busy playing with his straw as he sipped on his flavored water, I deduced he had nothing to add, and I tried to break the silence.

Maybe I also didn't choose the smallest talk with the first three words that crossed my mind.

"What about you?"

At least, he let go of his straw, his lips parting and his eyebrows shooting up his forehead in an arch where I could almost read the question 'what do you mean?'.

I wasn't sure myself as I stammered, "Is there... Are you seeing anyone?"

Out of all the things I could have asked, about his family, the kids, or his pizza flavor, was it really the first question I came up with?

Yes, and from the chuckle resonating from the other side of the room, it was as bad as I imagined, even if Carol quickly covered her amusement with an 'I found the teddy'.

Yet when Asher's fingers moved on the tablet, the rush of awkwardness running to my cheeks still slowed down with my heart to hear his reply.

"Isn't it obvious? Don't you have contacts to replace your glasses?" He gestured his right hand from his lopsided grimace down to his wheelchair, as if my gaze hadn't already traced this way enough times to catch every detail from his light stubble to the tip of his two shoes, as tonight, he was wearing his leg prosthesis.

Well, I guessed because with his long sweats, he looked like he had two full legs—and my contacts were perfectly clear, in spite of all the tears I'd cried last night.

Even so, as I've already told him, a missing leg didn't change much, nor his wheelchair, the weight he'd lost, or the tensions on his left side. He was still Asher Rohan, a leaner and more mature Asher Rohan, with still the same magnetizing jade eyes, sharp jawline, dimpled chin, and messy brown strands.

In short...

"Yes, we all see you're handsome and every woman's fantasy."

It wasn't my reply, however, but Carol's as she walked up to us, an elephant teddy in one hand, while the other reached for the side button of his tablet.

"A man whose voice we can switch off!" she continued, completely ignoring his glare as she leaned towards me to whisper. "Believe me, I've been married for 22 years, so I know what I'm talking about."

"Didn't you say you 'weren't here'?"

Too quickly, the tablet was turned on again.

"I did, but I have to answer the sweet girl since you only know how to ask questions," she retorted, her tone still as light as when she'd entered the room—something I admired when I seemed to have lost my voice.

"So no, he hasn't had anyone since I know him, and yet, he's turning many heads, young nurses, interns... The problem is that he traumatizes them all with his bad temper. Now, no one dares to even enter his 'den'."

The den of the mysterious Mr. Robot... I shook my head at the nurse's imagery.

"What can I say? I'm faithful and don't want anyone else than you scrubbing my back. Now, can you leave?" The robotic voice pronounced these words so fast, it left no ambiguity about his sarcasm—as if his deadpan stare at Carol weren't clear enough.

Nevertheless, on one particular word, his gaze wavered to me, and with it, the whole meaning of his sentence and my breath too.

"Oh, no need to charm me! My mission is done, so I'm leaving."

Why did it feel like everyone was speaking in underlying meaning as Carol waved the cuddly toy in her hand and opened Asher's pizza box before walking away with a wink and an olive?

The lack of sleep was maybe just blurring my thoughts, as I'd barely replied with a goodbye when the door closed behind her.

"Finally..."

"Come on, Carol is really nice." And she had lightened the mood, which I'd thought was impossible.

But here we were, my breathing slowly steadying and his chuckle wafting between us.

"You've just met her today. We'll talk about it when you really know her."

"Since how long do you know her?" I asked, nibbling on a piece of crust and trying to keep the conversation simple as he too took a bite of his Four Seasons pizza.

"Since I arrived here, about three years ago."

"And it's where you've been living for three years? I mean, you don't have another house?"

"No, unless you count my childhood room at my parents'." He cocked an eyebrow, his gaze traveling between the slice of pizza he still hadn't been able to bring to his lips and me, like to check if he could grab it or if he would have to put it down and wipe his fingers to type another reply, and I realized I had a lot of questions.

I realized I didn't know a lot about his new life, about him.

"Wouldn't it be cheaper to rent your own place and have nurses come when you need help?"

"Money isn't a problem, you know." He shrugged, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, though with the strains in his left arm, it surely wasn't, and as his hand turned even tenser, I regretted asking so much.

"If I lived alone, my parents would always be worried and come to help me, and they've already done enough. I'm not their responsibility anymore, and I don't want to be their burden either."

'Burden', always the same word, always the same clench of my insides.

"Besides, the kids are fun neighbors."

I saw exactly what he was trying to do as he shrugged again, offering me a small smile before I could push away my pizza, and it worked.

For the rest of the meal, we avoided 'sensitive' subjects, only talking about the kids, and children's clothing when he asked to see my latest designs, and we almost finished our pizzas before devouring the creamy tiramisu.

I hadn't been this full in a long time, though more than the food, it was the simple moment I savored. It almost felt normal, like a normal dinner between two... friends?

I was too tired to consider this question at the moment.

Yet I was sure of one thing, and the second I stepped out of his room, I pulled out my phone. Only to find it saturated with missed calls and unread texts.

Friends? 🤔

So what do you think about this 'dinner between friends'? A lot of tension for friends, don't you think? 😉

And what is the thing Althea is sure about? 👀

Tell me all your thoughts in the comments! And don't forget to vote ⭐ if you liked this chapter!

I'm sorry for posting it so late, but I hope I made it worth it, and I wanna thank you for your patience and support! It means the world to me! 🥰🥺💕✨🍑💗

Also, to make sure you don't miss the updates, don't forget to add the story to your reading lists/library, and follow me here and on Insta!

PS: Don't you think Taylor Swift's song, 'I almost do' fits so much for Asher? 😍