Warning: talk about suicide in this chapter. It's the part where they find themselves alone Asher and Althea, for the people who are sensitive about this subject and want to skip it.

And I'm always there if you need to talk. 💕

'And if you feel you're sinking, I will jump right over

Into cold, cold water for you

And although time may take us into different places

I will still be patient with you

And I hope you know.'

*ALTHEA'S POV*

October 30, 2023.

"Who said tis' the only surprise?"

I should have known with Asher, it was always more and a four-hour trip to what seemed to be the most colorful Fall festival I'd ever seen wasn't enough. However, following his nod behind me, I would have never imagined that beyond the rows of pumpkins in every shade from shamrock to tangerine, the bouquets of flowers arranged like bursts of golden, the banners, and all the dazzling dots of fiery colors, I would find a pair of two pale blue eyes I hadn't seen in... How many years?

I didn't even dare count as I took in how many inches higher they stood from what I'd remembered, and it wasn't the only difference.

The little girl in pink with long blond curls from my memories was now a young teen with still the same doll-like features, but the only hint of pink she was wearing was at the end of her bob cut.

"Charlotte?" I croaked, the name being the only thing that slipped through the lump of thumping emotions in my throat. Though I doubted I would have had any other word ready anyway.

What to even say after all this time?

"Thea!"

It turned out there didn't need anything more than the sound of my nickname through her bright smile as she rushed to me, and a familiar embrace of vanilla engulfed me.

"I can't believe you're here!"

I couldn't believe it either. Everything in the fact that Asher had taken me here to see my foster sister was surreal, and maybe the most incredible was how natural it all felt.

The conversation was smooth as she showed us around town, and we wandered through colorful stands and random talks. As if no time had passed.

Yet it had, and it was evident in the smallest details, like the cinnamon latte she sipped casually—with no hint of the disgusted grimace she'd used to give me at the sole mention of the drink—when after a few hours, we stopped at a coffee shop, or her blush as she asked me advices on what to wear at a certain Benjamin's birthday.

"You always have the best tips. You don't realize how much I missed them." She leaned back on her seat, glancing around the colorful terrace that had been adorned for the occasion, though her gaze was traveling farther than the Jack-o'-lanterns carved as coffee cups or even the other shops surrounding the square as she seemed to go back in time.

I did too, and wandering back to these past years, I realized how much I'd missed sharing girly advice with her, how much I'd missed her.

I'd been diving so deep into work all this time that I hadn't had a minute to think about those things—and I'd made sure of it. Yet now, it was like lifting my head out of the water and opening my blurry eyes to everything I'd left behind, everyone I'd abandoned on the shore. Which surely explained the tightness still pulling at my lungs as I whispered,

"I'm sorry we lost contact and I wasn't there for you. I shouldn't have—"

"No, it's okay. Asher told me things were... complicated, and I'm not mad." She offered me a soft, understanding smile.

Almost too understanding, and glancing at Asher, I wondered how much he could have told her for the usually curious girl to not even blink at the obvious details that had changed in us too, like my lack of glasses, his new voice, his new mean of transportation, the ring at my finger, or just the fact that we weren't together anymore. But he only gave me a half-shrug, playing with the straw of his latte as if it were the most interesting object around.

I could feel his gaze on me, however, and even the proud shine lighting up there as I said,

"Well, I promise it won't happen again. I'll make sure to keep contact, if you still want to?"

"Of course! And you better give me your number—oh, it makes me think... Cody!" Charlotte exclaimed, lifting her finger so suddenly that I almost thought the boy would appear on the empty seat beside us. "He told me to say hi and ask for your number too. He was so bummed to not be here when I told him on the phone, but he couldn't fly all the way from Madrid."

"Madrid? In Spain?" I repeated, trying to process that I wouldn't see the young boy and his freckles. Well, maybe not a boy anymore.

"Yes, he chose an overboard school when Connie and Robert retired because he didn't want to be transferred to another family for just two years. He says he loves it there so far. Here, he sent me pics."

Charlotte turned her phone screen to us, where the photo there wasn't displaying a young boy anymore indeed. He was almost a young man now, although I quickly recognized his freckles and cheeky grin, even hidden under a huge ice cream.

"Looks like he loves it indeed." Asher chuckled at the picture, while I lightly shook my head, focusing on Charlotte again.

"And you, do you like it here?"

"Well, it was a little hard to leave everything behind at first, but Jesse and Terry are really cool, and they're music teachers, so they've taught me a lot." She gave me a smile that instantly reassured me, shining until her eyes as I added,

"It's great. So you still sing?"

"Yes... I'll actually go on stage later at the fair for the first time."

"Later?! When?" My wide gaze flickered to the watch at my wrist as I tried to calculate how many minutes we had left since it had been supposed to be our last stop before joining the taxi that would be waiting for us at 4 p.m.

At least, it was what Asher had told our driver, and from the crease of his eyebrows, he clearly hadn't planned this.

"Why you didn't tell us?"

"Well, I didn't know when you called. I kinda decided it last minute, and I know you have a lot of road, and the concert isn't starting before half past five, so I didn't want to bother..." Charlotte explained with a sheepish smile, fiddling with her thumbs on her lap.

"The road is nothing to see our favorite singer. You should have told us. We could've stayed a little bit more and—"

"We still can." Asher tilted his head, catching my gaze as easily as he seemed to grasp the trail of my thoughts. "Push it by two hours, and... I'll text Carol that we won't be back for story time t'night."

"You're sure?"

It was Charlotte's question at first, and within less than a minute, it became mine too as I turned to Asher once we were alone, my foster sister walking away to save us front row seats—after hugging us, of course.

"Yes, it's your day, and for that smile," he paused, leaning across the small metal table to poke the corner of my smile, and I could feel it stretching even more with the tickle of his touch. "I'd extend it as long as you want. Two... Three hours..."

Forever... The word hung in the air like the shallow breath on his parted lips as his blazing gaze dived into mine.

Or maybe it was just my trembling exhale as he continued, shaking his head,

"And don't worry 'bout the story time. It's the first I miss it since I started. They can do without me for once."

Was this supposed to make me feel better? I couldn't decide as my ribcage was shriveling and swelling with every unsteady beat of my heart.

"When did you start by the way?"

"'Bout three years ago." He shrugged, as if it were nothing.

But three years, six days out of seven... I couldn't even picture how many nights it was, how many grins on the kids' faces, how many twinkles of wonder in their bright eyes.

"And how did you start? I mean, it doesn't seem like something you'd decide to do out of nowhere, does it?"

"No, not really..." he muttered, turning to his cup of coffee and staring at the empty bottom with the concentration of someone reading tea leaves, except it seemed to be the past he was looking at before giving me yet another shrug, the movement less and less casual. "S'a long and b-boring story."

"Well, I've got time until the show," I tried with a shy smile, tiptoeing on a string as thin and sharp as the cord of tension that slowly climbed up from his left fist until the right corner of his jaw. "And it could be your facial exercise for today."

"There's more int'resting ways to work my mouth."

Even his smirk appeared more strained than usual as his gaze slid to my lips, and I surely should have taken it as a sign to drop the subject. I surely would have any other day.

"No, I want to hear Mr. Robot's story, the superhero that all the kids love."

"If I tell you..." He heaved out a sigh, which must have been of surrender, even if it didn't ease his tensions, the clench of his jaw only tightening to the point that his voice could barely come out when he continued, "You're gonna hate me."

"Asher... you've made me believe you were dead for more than three years." I reminded him, although he looked perfectly conscious of this fact, and I was too as I continued in a murmur. "I don't think there's anything you can possibly do that would make me hate you."

It was a scary truth, like the fact that instead of worrying about what he was about to confess, at this instant, each unsteady thud of my heart was solely focused on the whitening clench of his fingers in a distorted fist as I reached out my hand, trying to calm their involuntary spasms with soft brushes.

It worked for an instant, but quickly, the tremors spread through my nerves too when after a deep, bracing inhale, he resigned himself to explain,

"It was in my f-first semester at the clinic. I was real low... not making progress... " he spoke slowly, every word fighting to come out, though I wasn't sure it was only the strain of his lips in the battle. "Understood my goals were not at-atta... at-attain-nable... I'd never walk again and all... I missed you, and Kylie told me you didn't sound fine on the phone... One night, t'was too much."

It still was too much for me, just hearing it, and I was ready to stop him, tell him to forget all of this, when his next words silenced me, along with every other sound around.

"Found myself with a knife in my hand."

The faraway melody from a brass band, the children's laughter, the people's chatters, the slurping of straws and clinks of crockery around, even my heart rate halted. There remained only this silence I knew too well, heavy like darkening marble, deafening like paramedics' sirens, stifling like... a dead end.

"I tried to end it all."

Now, I understood his warning.

From believing he'd been dead to discovering he'd been lying to me, I'd thought he'd already made me experience all the worst kinds of pain. But I'd been wrong.

The thought of him alone in his room battling with all of that while I was on the other side of the country, completely unaware... It was like losing him all over again, taking the torn part of my chest that I'd barely stitched back and ripping it with that knife.

I had no idea what the blade could have looked like. Sharp? Serrated? Double-edged? It didn't matter. All I pictured was how close to his skin it could have been.

"I didn't do more than a scratch."

As if reading my mind, he turned his unscathed wrist to me, the best he could when I was still gripping his left hand, his strained and trembling fingers being the only thing holding me.

"'Cause Carol walked in just in time, and I n-never tried again," he rushed to add, his voice more earnest than if he were swearing on oath at the dock, more breathless than when he'd explained his lies to me.

He'd had no regret then.

"I couldn't do that... for you."

He'd faked his death for me. He'd stayed alive for me. Why did it always have to come to extremes with him?

Even at this instant, as he'd just dropped his confession like a bomb, he lightened the atmosphere with a playful tone,

"And Carol swore she'd ask her dead mother to make my afterlife a living hell if I ever did, and apparently, she's worse than her."

At least, he tried to, even though I doubted the smile I caught in his words could reach his eyes, or his lips.

"'Nyway, I made her promise to not tell anyone, and she accepted 'cause she knew the doctors would give me drugs that risked to slow my p-progress even more. But she had two conditions: first, she only allowed me butter knives, and s'cond... she brought me visitors."

He paused for an instant, as if I weren't already hanging on the rocky trail of his voice.

"The kids. That's how it started. At first, I didn't know what to do in front of them, and then, one of them asked me to read his book. In a week, it became a habit, and abandoning them wasn't a p-possibility anymore. What example would it be if I gave up life when some of them have worse disab'lities than me but also so much potential?"

You too have so much potential! I wanted to scream at him, but all that slipped out of my dry lips were shaky breaths.

"So they gave me a reason to go on, and it used to be the only thing I looked forward to every day."

He concluded with a 'the end' that felt bittersweet in the back of my mouth.

It wasn't the grand happy ending of a fairytale; it was reality, and although the light I'd witnessed in the kids' eyes during the story times was magical, it couldn't erase the beginning of the story; nothing ever would.

"Told you you'd hate me."

In his low whisper, it was all I could hear: this dark crack from beyond the grave.

It was all I could taste with the sour metal on my tongue as my teeth dug into my shaky lower lip. All I could feel, resurfacing cold and searing from a buried place inside my chest and spreading up my throat, my nose... All I could see...

"Althea, please look at me," he begged quietly, leaning his head down to search for my eyes, but I couldn't look at him.

I couldn't even distinguish the outlines of our tangled hands, which I'd been staring at for the past minutes, only the blurry image of a blade, sharp and trembling, too close to fragile skin.

And yet, one thing was even more piercing as he delicately placed a shaky finger under my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his. Piercing and wide, as he probably hadn't expected to find me like this.

"Told you I could never hate you," I croaked, his jade eyes appearing more vivid and penetrating as a tear slipped down my cheek, and he pierced through my armor like only he could, bringing light to the darkest parts of me that even I didn't want to see.

"I'm not even mad. I... Some nights have been too much for me too... I've got a razor blade in my hand too... and I... understood a little better why my mom did what she did."

The words came out like choked sobs, messy and uncontrollable after I'd held them for too long inside, and I surely didn't have his storytelling talents. However, from the shallow intake of air he sucked through his barely-open lips, I knew he'd read between my lines.

I'd already confessed to him all my secrets, even before we'd started dating.

We'd been in this same position, actually. Except that back then, he'd praised how strong and determined I was, while now, if it hadn't been for the hold of his fingers, I would have been crumbling on the ground.

His green eyes still held the same intensity, nevertheless, running all over my face in search of any sign of mistruth, or maybe just for a way to wipe the tears that escaped the brush of his left thumb and trickled until my dry lips.

His touch was still as soft, and if seven years ago, it had raised all my alarms to flee, I wasn't sure I could be as strong as he slowly leaned closer.

'We wouldn't be right here, right now, without all of this...'

Though I almost forgot where and when we were until the familiar sound of our names echoed around, and I took in how close his lips were to the corner of mine and the cup of coffee between us had been from falling, how loud were the erratic thumps of my heart and the festival hubbub around, and how fast everything had passed from festive to heavy and the girl rushing towards us was.

I barely had time to wipe the remaining tears on my cheek before Charlotte stood in front of us with her excited grin and eyes full of dreams. Such a contrast with our somber moods.

Then again, all these opposites were part of life; they made the beauty of it, and I was reminded of it when an hour later, she stood on stage, sharing her joy with the crowd, making us dance and sing, and even making me cry another kind of tears as she dedicated a song to me.

I hadn't even thought it could be possible to feel so many different emotions in just a few hours... a day... three weeks. The tears, the laughs, the awe, the anger, the euphoria, the heartbreak, the agony, the hope, the good, the bad, the best, the worst... they all blurred together like the Fall hues around when, at the end of the concert, everyone threw color powder, including Asher and I.

It was how we ended up covered in yellow, orange, red, and brown, and even before checking the time—which was far past the hour we'd first planned to depart—we knew we couldn't call a taxi in this state.

Thus, we decided to find a hotel to get cleaned up and have some rest. We could very well leave early in the morning, as long as we were back at Lotus Bay for the Halloween party at the clinic. On this, we'd agreed, even if there were details where we differed.

"Asher, no, you don't have to pay for my room." I sighed, trying to hold out my card to the receptionist of the hotel, but of course, Asher's right hand was faster, and I could even notice his PT progress as he used his left arm to block my way. "This whole day was already the best surprise. There's no need for more."

I should have known with Asher, it was always more than more, and he wouldn't back down, even when the receptionist called our attention with a throat clearing.

"I want to. Plus, it's faster. Wouldn't want to waste time when they have so many clients." He nodded to the poor man behind the counter, who glanced between our two credit cards as if trying to solve an impossible equation before he offered us a sorry smile that looked too much like an equals sign.

"We do have many clients indeed, and... that's why we only have one room left."

Who loves the only-one-bed trope? Lift your hand! 🙋🏼‍♀️

I think we all deserve a little treat in next chapter because this one was full of many emotions and heavy talks. 💔

Who needs some tissues? I do because I cried writing it. 🤧🤧

I hope you liked this chapter anyway, and if you're excited for more Ashea moments, vote ⭐ and comment!

As always, your support on this story means the world to me, and I love you my little Peaches!!! ❤️🥰😘🍑