I go on and tell him what Arianna told me about her feelings for Asher and how she asked me to leave him so she could have him.
For a second, Asher watches me intently, his fingers still clutching my chin as if he needs the connection as much as I do.
Before he can say anything, I blurt, “I didn’t make up the memory. Dr. Anderson said it’s not possible.”
“I know.” His voice is quiet, pained even.
“You…do?”
“Yeah, I speak to your doctors.”
He does? How come I didn’t know that?
“Besides,” he continues, “that’s similar to how Ari told me she loved you the night before. Fuck.”
“Was she…mentally unwell?”
“Yes, depression mostly, but she had that type of behavior, the lying and scheming, but why the fuck would she kill herself if she made it all up?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think either of us had the full gist of her state of mind. I think she had more problems than depression. She might have been a pathological liar and well, something else.”
“Something else like what?”
“It takes so much to plot all that. It was just a pure masterminded plan to keep us apart.”
His eyes rage. “You think my sister killed herself just to keep us apart?”
“I know this pains you, Ash.” My palm cradles his cheek as if the touch will take the torment away. “But you have to keep an open mind if you want to learn the truth. It’s clear she relied on our lack of communication, knowing full well we’d never sit down and talk about this. From what I’ve learned, we did have communication problems, right?”
“And whose fucking fault was that, Reina?”
“Fine, it was mine, but you didn’t help either.” I pause. “I tried to talk to you, right? After I figured things out, I remember thinking I’d talk to you.”
He’s silent for a bit. “After Ari’s funeral, yes.”
“And what was your reply?”
He remains silent.
“What did you tell me?” I insist. “And don’t lie to me.”
He sighs. “The exact words were, You’re fucking dead to me. Don’t let me see your face again.”
His words stab me deep and hard even though I don’t remember them. They must’ve hurt a lot more back then.
Maybe that’s why I pulled back and preferred to take his cold shoulder instead of having him hate his dead sister.
Old Reina sacrificed too, maybe too much, even.
I drop my hand from his cheek and try to turn away but he holds my face hostage, making me look at him. “That was right after Ari’s death,” he repeats slowly. “All I could dream about were her last words.”
It’s his indirect apology, but it’s not enough. I might have had something to do with the way we are, but Asher never fought for me.
Not even once.
Yes, he beat people for me, but he never stood up for me or with me.
I guess that was all I needed from him. If he’d done it back then, if he hadn’t been too proud to stalk away every time I pushed him, maybe none of this would’ve happened.
But it doesn’t matter now.
“If we’re going to investigate this, I’ll do things you might not like.”
He narrows his eyes. “Such as?”
“Jason. He could be our only bridge to the other Arianna we didn’t know.”
My fingers shake at the thought. Jason is also Cloud003. He befriended me, fucked me, and was there for me in the most convenient times.
He was also there right before Arianna killed herself.
It can’t be a coincidence, right?
At night, I go back to Alex’s house for a visit.
Asher didn’t like the idea that I’d be talking to Jason, and he’s been grumpy during the entire ride.
I like watching him be pissy about this; it’s better than seeing him broken from the inside out like this morning. Finding out all that about Arianna must’ve crushed him.
If roles were switched and Reina did that to me, it would’ve destroyed me, too.
Asher is too proud and stubborn to accept comfort. After the morning confrontation, we went to college, and I’m glad for that. I wouldn’t have the slightest clue how to deal with him in that state. All I want to do is hug him, and I know he wouldn’t accept it.
Not only is he proud and stubborn, he’s also sealing himself off from me.
Still, I want to feel close to him in some way, and I’m ready to take the risk of striking up that conversation.
We cut the distance toward Alex’s house in Asher’s Mustang. It’s quiet and nearly asphyxiating in here.
For a second, I watch the dominance he exudes as he grips the wheel with easy control—like he does with my body.
I briefly close my eyes in remembrance. My ass and pussy are still sore from the powerful way he thrust inside me. He claimed me. There’s no way around it, and now, I’ll always want more.
Before that, there’s something more potent hanging between us that I should try to clear up.
Chasing the remnants of arousal away, I face him, playing with the strap of my bag. “Why did you quit football?”
Asher throws me a brief glance before he focuses back on the road. Since he’s been in a pissy mood, I expect him not to answer, but then he says, “It didn’t interest me in the long run.”
“And law does?”
“Yes, international, not domestic. There’s something liberating about moving freely between borders.”
Interesting. I thought he chose law to spite his father in some way, but it seems his and Alex’s visions are entirely different—even if they have a few things in common.
“Then why did you come back?” I lower my head.
“I told you, it’s for you.” He shakes his head. “I could’ve studied here, but I left because of you then I returned for the same reason. I hated you so much, you consumed me.”
His quiet confessions are like fire arrows shooting at my chest, burning me alive.
Hated.
He didn’t say he hates me; he worded it in the past tense.
Besides, he said I consumed him, maybe as hard as he consumed me. Maybe his hate has transformed into something else now, or is that too much to ask for?
It’s funny how I’ve become careful with how much I can hope for. Now, I’m always scared that if I get too ahead of myself, everything will crumble all around me.
Instead of confronting him about what he said, I choose to keep the hope and ask, “How was your life there? In England, I mean.”
“Just a life.”
“Can you elaborate?”
He’s quiet for a beat. “I had friends, Aiden and Cole. They’re a bit eccentric and they managed to keep my mind off things.”
They must be the ones I saw in that Instagram picture Lucy showed me. I want to meet them one day, see how Asher lived without me.
“What type of things?” I ask.
“Like coming back and fucking you—those types of things, Reina.”
My cheeks heat, and I swallow back the impulse to say Then why didn’t you?
“How about you?” He pulls me out from my thoughts.