Chapter 13 #2
She remembered the year they’d ventured into that rundown trailer park.
She remembered dingy siding and a dilapidated front porch.
She’d been sitting in the back seat of the SUV as Mom and Alyssa carried the gifts to the front porch.
Cici and her sisters had wanted to go, too, but Mom insisted they wait in the car.
She hadn’t understood at the time, but she did now. What for them was an act of love and generosity was, for the recipients, a moment of shame.
Not that it should have been. Not everybody was blessed with financial resources. And people went through hard times. Her parents had drilled that lesson into Cici and her sisters, reminding them often that money didn’t make them who they were.
“You knew where I came from,” Asher continued. “So our friendship was always just you feeling…sorry for me. I never measured up.”
Cici visualized the situation from a different perspective. From inside the trailer, behind the windows. “I didn’t know… You lived there?”
“Oh, come on, Cici.” His eyes rolled. “Don’t lie. You knew.”
“I wouldn’t lie.” She pushed back her chair and stood. “And I didn’t know.”
“You saw me in the window.”
“I didn’t. If I saw someone—and I don’t remember that I did—I had no idea it was you. And I don’t appreciate your assumptions. Even if I had known, it wouldn’t have changed anything. You were my friend.”
He scoffed. “Right. Friends don’t laugh when friends ask them to prom.” He clamped his lips shut, and she had the distinct feeling he hadn’t meant to say that.
The memory hit her like a slap, and her cheeks burned.
She dropped back into the chair, afraid to look up and meet his gaze. She’d buried that moment, tried to forget how cruel she’d been. “I…” Her voice caught. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever done to another human being. I thought…I hoped you’d forgotten.”
“Forget?” His laugh was humorless. “I still have nightmares about it.”
Tears welled, and she pressed a hand to her mouth.
“I’m so sorry, Asher. I was young and selfish.
I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ve replayed that moment in my head a thousand times.
It’s my penance. My…punishment for being so self-absorbed.
Can you…?” She forced herself to meet his eyes. “Can you forgive me?”
His expression went from hard to worried in about half a second. “Oh, uh… I didn’t mean to… Look, I wasn’t trying to make you cry. I’m just—”
“I deserve it.” She hid her face. “You’re right.”
“I didn’t say that.” He scooted closer and slipped his hands around her wrists, tugging them downward.
She didn’t fight him, just lowered her hands to her lap, letting him see her tears. Her shame.
“Cici, it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. That night… Prom night. It was awful. It was…exactly what I deserved.”
His brows lowered. “What do you mean?”
“It was only that, when you asked, Tucker Benson was listening. He was behind you, and I wanted to go to the prom with him.”
“Which you did, if memory serves.”
She nodded. She had gone with Tucker, the boy she’d crushed on her entire senior year. Captain of the football team, pitcher of the baseball team, and best-looking guy at Shadow Cove High.
He’d been the proverbial Big Man on Campus, compared to skinny, nerdy Asher.
What an idiot she’d been.
“What happened, Cici?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. Tell me.”
She didn’t want to, didn’t plan to.
Until he added, “I deserve to know, don’t I?”
He did. He deserved to hear the whole awful story.
“I was all dressed up and thought… Well, I thought I looked good.”
“You looked beautiful.” Of course he’d seen her. He’d gone to the prom with another girl.
Now, his words weren’t meant as a compliment so much as agreement, an encouragement for her to hurry and spill it. His patience seemed to be hanging from a very fragile thread.
“It was fine,” she said. “Not great, but, you know. Just a dance, only with fancier outfits. After, Tucker and I were supposed to go to a party, but he decided to take us…somewhere else.”
He’d told her he had a surprise for her. She was excited until he pulled into the parking lot of a cheap motel. He’d rented a room.
She’d tried to be nice, always wanting everyone to like her. That was her problem. One of her problems. She had replayed what happened next a million times.
Tucker walked around to open her door, so she got out, but she didn’t move. “What are we doing here?”
“What do you think?” He wagged his eyebrows.
“I think…I want to go to the party.”
“Come on, baby.” He tugged her hand. “We’ll go after.”
After. As if it was a foregone conclusion what would happen between then and after.
She told him no.
Somehow, he misunderstood the word or thought he could change her mind. He kissed her, he got handsy. He tried to drag her to the motel room.
She told him to stop. She tried to fight him off.
If not for the couple who pulled up in the parking lot, she didn’t want to think about what would have happened.
“Cici.” Asher’s voice pulled her back. “What did he do?”
“Nothing. I mean, he tried, but…” She swallowed, cheeks on fire. She’d been cruel to Asher, and Tucker had been her reward.
“He tried what?” Asher’s eyes flashed with fury. “I’ll find him. I’ll—”
“Dad took care of it.”
Cici probably wouldn’t have told her father, but the couple who ran Tucker off insisted on calling her parents.
She wasn’t sure exactly what Dad had said to Tucker when he caught up with him, but for the rest of the school year, he’d kept his distance, and nobody had ever heard about what happened.
Dad had done that for her.
Of course, he’d also spent an hour lecturing her on all the things she could have—and apparently, should have—done differently. By the time he was done, she was pretty sure the whole thing had been her fault.
Asher took her hands. “Unless Tucker’s been walking with a limp for the last ten years, your dad didn’t punish him enough.”
She attempted a laugh, but it was thin. “You’re much kinder to me than I deserve.”
“Everybody deserves kindness.”
“You’re right. That’s exactly right. And what I did to you was cruel. It was awful, and I’m so, so sorry.”
Asher stilled. A moment passed before he nodded, then leaned closer and met her eyes. “I forgive you, Cici.”
No lectures? No driving the point home? No reminding her, in case she’d forgotten, what a terrible person she was? Just…forgiveness?
Apparently, because he didn’t move, just held there, a few inches from her.
The air between them thickened, charged with attraction and history. He was so different from the boy she’d known. She’d always thought of him as a really smart, nerdy kid. This man, though still smart, was strong and powerful and so incredibly kind.
She’d never felt anything but friendship toward Asher when they were in school together.
What she was feeling right now was far, far from friendship.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He swallowed, then dropped her hands, pushed back, and stood. “It’s late. We should sleep.”
“Right.” She nodded, her voice soft. “Yeah.” Even if sleep was suddenly the last thing on her mind.
Asher grabbed the laptop and opened the door, waiting for her to step inside. She wanted to sit a few minutes longer on the patio, process everything they’d learned, everything that’d happened, but Asher wouldn’t let her stay outside by herself.
She passed him, the heat from his body warming her skin. Despite his forgiveness, her heart was heavy with regret and something else—something that felt like longing.
Asher had forgiven her, but the past still lingered, a barrier between them.
She realized that she desperately wanted to break through.
Cici woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the cabin’s gauzy curtains.
The room was cozy, with log walls and a quilted bedspread that smelled faintly of pine.
She stretched, feeling Asher’s oversized T-shirt slide against her skin.
It was longer than some dresses she owned, hanging to her knees.
He’d been kind enough to share it, along with a pair of boxer shorts, which were so big she’d needed to roll them about five times to keep them from sliding down.
The clothes she’d packed for this work trip—her business slacks, her blouses, her favorite shoes—had all been in her suitcase, which they’d left at the barn. She figured everything had burned in the fire.
Clothes could be replaced, but the jewelry had been precious to her.
The delicate gold necklace her grandmother had given her for her eighteenth birthday, the vintage onyx bracelet she’d bought from a jeweler in Tampa, the silver ring, one of the five she’d designed for herself and her sisters, each of their birthstones mounted along one side of the infinity symbol.
All gone, melted or stolen or charred.
But she and Asher were still breathing, and as much as she loved jewelry, what really mattered had survived.
So far, anyway.
Quietly, she slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the laundry room off the kitchen. She’d thrown her clothes into the wash the night before but had fallen asleep before moving them to the dryer.
She did that now and started it, then headed for the kitchen.
The shower was running in the other room, so she figured Asher would be out soon. She might as well get breakfast going while she waited for her clothes to dry.
The sun was still low on the horizon, painting the pond outside with golden hues.
She started a pot of coffee, thankful when the rich aroma filled the air, then opened the fridge to survey their supplies: eggs, a pound of sausage, English muffins, a couple of firm apples that smelled exactly like fresh apples should, and a pint of blueberries in a cardboard container, the berries so big and fragrant that she guessed they’d come straight from a farm.
She plucked one, rinsed it, and popped it in her mouth. Sweet and tangy. She closed her eyes to savor the flavor.