21. Asher
21
ASHER
Of all the ways I thought I would feel on my wedding day, confused, agitated, and heartbroken were not on the list. I went to bed last night hoping that I would miraculously wake up today knowing what I was supposed to do. Needless to say, I was disappointed that my mind did not feel any clearer.
I felt more confused than ever.
Not wanting to try to force sleep any longer, I pulled off my comforter and got out of bed. I made my way into the bathroom, where I turned on the shower and let steam fill the room. Once the water was ready, I stripped out of my pajama bottoms and stepped inside.
I let the hot water pelt my body until my skin was bright pink and numb. I guess I’d hoped that it would make me feel better. But as I stepped out of the shower and onto Coralie’s rough, flat bath mat I realized that hope had been foolish. I didn’t feel better. If anything, I felt worse.
Worse because the towels that Coralie had picked out felt like the kind of towels you get from a hotel pool. Worse because my feet didn’t sink into the bathmat like they did with the one that Ella had picked out. Worse because I knew I was marrying the wrong woman.
Ella was the one for me. That kiss last night solidified it.
I knew it was Ella’s hands on my face the moment she touched my cheeks. I knew it was Ella who brushed her lips shyly against mine. I knew it was Ella’s body that my fingertips pressed into when I reached out and pulled her to me.
But when I raced after her in the rain, she looked at me like it didn’t matter that I had been the one kissing her back. And I realized we were never going to happen. I was always going to be the one who loved her more than she was capable of loving me.
“It was a kiss. That’s all.”
Her words repeated in my head like a sadistic echo. I’d found a way to move on after she rejected me outside her apartment. Now, I could only focus on one truth. I would never move on from that kiss. It burned me so bad that my heart was permanently scarred.
I dried my hair and then my body. I wrapped the towel around my waist and pulled open the bathroom door, reveling in the cool air of my room. I walked over to my nightstand and grabbed my phone, praying that there were messages with more mind-numbing wedding plans so I could focus on something other than Ella.
Coralie had texted me that she was with her parents and to expect them around 10. I sent her a heart hands emoji as I reminded myself that this was the woman I was going to marry. This was the woman who actually loved me.
She responded with a kissing emoji, and I forced myself to smile at that.
All my thoughts of Ella needed to stop. Coralie was the one who was going to make me happy, I just needed to let her.
Next was a text from Shelby wondering if I was up and showered. She had my boutonniere and was going to bring it by around nine. I shot back a quick text letting her know that I was up and ready for her whenever she got here.
I wanted to ask Shelby if there were any logistics that she needed help with, but I knew she’d tell me that she had it covered and that I should just enjoy my wedding day.
If she only knew.
I dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt—no need to put on the tux yet—and opened my bedroom door. Noise in the kitchen piqued my curiosity, and I walked through the apartment to find Mom standing next to the stove, pulling out a pan.
“Hey, ma,” I said as I walked over to her and planted a kiss on the top of her head.
Mom looked over at me. She looked a little worse for wear as she gave me a weary smile. “Why did you let me drink like that?” she asked as she set the pan down on the stove and yawned.
I frowned at her. “Trust me, there was no way I could have slowed you down last night. You were on a roll.” I glanced around at the ingredients she had laid out on the counter. “What are you making?”
“Omelets,” she said as she pulled open the fridge and grabbed the carton of eggs.
“Can I help?”
She shook her head. “It’s your wedding day. I’ll make you breakfast.”
I eyed her, but she just waved me away.
“Go. Sit,” she demanded.
I sighed as I walked over to the coffee machine and pulled down a mug from the cupboard above it. Once the mug was topped off, I obeyed my mother and moved to sit on a barstool so I could watch her.
My mind started to relax as I watched Mom crack eggs into a big bowl. The stress of last night started to dull, and I began to believe that I might actually get through the day. But then Mom’s gaze met mine, and I realized she had things she wanted to say. Things I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear.
“What?” I finally asked when she peered over at me for the fifth time.
She was pouring milk into the eggs and didn’t respond until she was twisting the cap back onto the jug. “Nothing,” she said as she turned and pulled open the fridge.
“Ma,” I said, my voice low as I drew out the word to let her know that I didn’t buy what she was selling.
She glanced over at me once more. This was going to be a long day if she kept refusing to speak her mind.
I leaned back and folded my arms. “You might as well just say it,” I said as I quirked an eyebrow.
She was busy whisking the eggs. “Are you sure this is what you want?” she finally asked.
Even though I’d known what she was going to ask, I still hadn’t fully prepared myself to hear it. I’d spent so much of my week trying to convince myself that my marriage to Coralie was what I wanted, and I didn’t have any strength left to defend it to my mother.
I was supposed to marry Coralie in ten hours. “Mom,” I finally said, fearing that if I kept quiet much longer, she was going to start making assumptions. “I’m marrying Coralie.”
Mom stopped whisking, set the bowl down on the counter, and gave me her full attention. “I saw the kiss last night, Asher. I saw your expression when Ella ran off. You love her.”
My heart began to pound. I didn’t want her words to be true, but hearing them out loud like that, I knew I couldn’t deny what she was saying. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
I dropped my gaze to the counter and sighed, my shoulders sagging under the weight of the last few months. My involvement with the Proctors. My failing relationship with Ella. George’s diagnosis and my subsequent engagement to Coralie.
“She doesn’t love me, Mom,” I whispered. I no longer had the strength to deny what I knew was true.
When Mom didn’t respond right away, I glanced up to see her studying me. I couldn’t read her expression, and I feared what she might be thinking.
“I don’t believe that.”
Her words made my entire body freeze. “What?” I finally managed to ask.
“Ella loves you, Asher.”
I sighed. “She loves me like a friend. But she will never love me like I love her.”
Mom leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter. “I don’t believe that,” she repeated.
I stared at her. What was she trying to say?
Mom must have seen my confusion because she reached over and patted my hand. “Ella loves you like you love her. I’m sure of it.”
This felt like a cruel game. Why would my mom say this to me? I was marrying Coralie today. Why was she giving me hope?
“Mom, I…” My voice trailed off as emotions coated my throat. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to believe that my mom was speaking the truth, but I was so scared of losing Ella that I knew I shouldn’t entertain the possibility.
“Asher, if you love Coralie and she is the woman for you, I will support you. If you truly love her, I will accept her as my daughter. But if you’re only marrying her because you think it will make others happy,” she paused, “or because you’re running away from your feelings for Ella.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Then the marriage will never last.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I want for you. That’s not what your dad would want for you. You deserve all the happiness in the world. You only have one life to live, you need to make it count.”
Her voice cracked, and I was instantly off my chair. As soon as I got to her, I pulled her into a hug. Mom wrapped her arms around me tight and sobbed into my shirt.
Tears filled my eyes as Dad’s memory washed over me. I knew what she was saying was true. My parents would never want me to be in an unhappy marriage. George and Harriet wouldn’t want that either.
Coralie and I both deserved to be happy. Somehow, I’d allowed myself to think that I needed to ignore my own happiness for the sake of others’. That, eventually, I would find peace. I’d figured that fighting for others’ happiness was the cure for my own unhappiness.
I had been wrong.
Mom pulled back and stared up at me. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s the only way we ever take a chance at love.” She reached up and patted my cheek. “It’s the fear of losing something precious that forces us to act. There are no guarantees. You just have to find the strength to leap and trust that, no matter how it ends, you’ll be happy you took the chance.”
I studied her. I knew what she was saying was true, but I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to leap with Ella. I wanted to tell her once more that I loved her. I needed that door closed and dead bolted if I was ever going to fully move forward.
It wasn’t fair to Coralie to get married when I had this many unresolved issues.
“What do I do?” I asked, my voice hoarse from emotions.
Mom smiled up at me. “In my experience, the best policy is always honesty. Tell Coralie. She’ll understand.”
“She will?”
Mom paused. “It might take time. But eventually, she’ll realize that not marrying you was the right move.” Mom smiled. “Be brave, Asher.”
* * *
I’d talked myself out of having this conversation five times before I found myself standing in front of Coralie in my bedroom four hours later. She was moving around the room, filling the air with anxious energy. Something was bothering her, and I wasn’t quite sure what it was. I wanted to help her feel at ease, but I didn’t know how.
I moved to sit on the armchair in the corner of my room next to my bookshelf. “Coralie?” I finally asked when it became apparent that she wasn’t going to start the conversation. “Is everything okay?”
She stopped pacing and turned to look at me. Her eyes were wild as she held my gaze. “I don’t want to get married,” she blurted out before she slapped her hand over her mouth and started at me with wide eyes.
I blinked a few times. It felt like time had slowed as I processed what she’d said. “You don’t?” I finally asked.
She kept her hand in place and shook her head. “I don’t,” she whispered as she slowly lowered her hand. “I don’t want to marry you, Asher. I thought…I thought I could. I wanted to. But this isn’t my life.” She raised her hands and motioned to my room. “This isn’t my town. I heard the hesitancy in your voice when I told you about New York. You don’t want to move there.”
I stood and crossed the space between us. With each word she spoke, I felt lighter and lighter. “I don’t,” I said when I was standing in front of her. “I don’t want to move to New York.”
“And I don’t want to move here.”
“I want to eat meat.”
She paused as she stared up at me. “And I will despise you forever if you do.”
“I want kids. Loads of them.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I do not.”
I chuckled as I studied her. She raised her eyebrows for a moment before she smiled and laughed.
“What were we thinking?” She waved her hand between us. “Why did we ever think this would work?”
“We were trying to make everyone else happy, but we forgot about ourselves.”
A heaviness settled around us at the unspoken reality of what had gotten us into this mess. Mr. Parks was the reason we’d entertained this marriage. He was the reason we’d wanted to rush this. He was still sick, even if we were seeing brighter days. And we both knew, eventually, he would no longer be here with us.
“Daddy wants me to be happy. He wouldn’t want us to get married unless we were certain.” She stared up at me. “And I’m certain that I do not want to marry you.”
I nodded. “Same.”
We both smiled at each other. For the first time in weeks, I felt…relaxed. Coralie giggled before she moved to sit on the edge of my bed. I joined her, my shoulder brushing hers as I did.
“So, what do we do?” she asked, glancing over at me.
I took in a deep breath and then slowly let it out. I met her gaze and shrugged. “I guess we start with the truth.”