Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Asher
My dad and I have been working on clearing the basement out for about an hour now, making piles of stuff to get rid of and organizing what’s actually worth keeping. The space is packed with junk that probably started accumulating not long after he moved to Maplewood years ago.
Murphy keeps getting underfoot, weaving between our legs and investigating every box we open like he’s conducting a very important inspection. Every time I set something down, he tries to climb into it or bat at it with his paw.
“You’re not helping, big guy,” I inform him wryly. “You know that, right?”
He just meows at me and continues his investigation.
I eye an old wooden dresser shoved in the corner, half hidden behind a stack of boxes. The top is warped from water damage, and one of the drawers is hanging off its track. “You should get rid of that. It’s broken and just taking up space.”
My dad looks over at it, brushing dust off his hands, then shakes his head.
“Nah, that’s still a keeper. It’ll be great once I get the chance to fix it up.
It’s solid oak underneath all that damage.
Just needs some work.” He pauses before adding almost casually, “You could help next time you come to Maplewood.”
There’s a slightly awkward moment as his words land, the unspoken subtext clear. He’s hoping that this won’t be my only visit to town, that I’ll come back again at some point.
Edward grimaces slightly, as if he’s realized he overstepped the careful boundaries of our relationship. He shakes his head, waving a hand. “I mean, if you have time. I know you’ll be busy with the team and getting settled in Denver. It’s not a problem if—”
“Okay.” I cut him off. “Let’s put it in the keep pile.”
I don’t explicitly say I’ll come back to visit again, don’t make a promise I’m not sure I can keep. But the implication is there, and we both know it.
My dad glances at me in surprise before a small smile crosses over his weathered face. “Yeah. That sounds good.”
We continue going through things, working in comfortable silence broken only by the occasional question about whether something should stay or go.
Murphy is still winding around our legs, getting in the way every chance he gets.
Every time I bend down to pick up a box, he gets there first, climbing into or onto it before I can move it.
“Your cat is useless,” I tell my dad.
He chuckles. “My cat? I think he’s more your cat at this point.”
I roll my eyes, but scratch Murphy under the chin anyway. Just as I’m about to shoo him off the box he’s perched on top of, the doorbell rings upstairs, echoing down into the basement.
I frown, glancing at the stairs. Alexis better not have figured out where my dad lives or something.
I was caught completely off guard when she showed up at the cabin this morning, and I have zero desire to see her again.
The thought of her somehow finding out I’m here and invading this space makes my jaw clench.
“You know who that is?” I ask.
My dad flushes slightly, little spots appearing on his cheeks. “Uh… I might.”
Huh.
We head upstairs, Murphy trailing behind us, and when I open the door, my eyebrows shoot up. It’s Audrey, my dad’s neighbor. The woman who drove him home from the park that day when I had to rush to help Kat.
“Oh! Hi, Asher,” she greets me warmly, waving past me to Edward. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all.” I step back, opening the door wider.
“When I drove Edward home that day, we got to talking,” she says as she steps inside, holding up a covered dish that smells incredible.
Like rum and sugar and spice. “And then we ran into each other again the other day just down the block and got to chatting. Turns out we both love rum cake at Christmas. So I made one and wanted to drop it off.”
I glance over at my dad, noticing that his cheeks are flushed deeper now. He straightens his shirt a bit, running a hand through his hair before smiling almost nervously at Audrey.
Oh, damn. I see how it is.
“That’s really nice of you,” I tell Audrey when my dad seems a bit too tongue-tied to speak, taking the dish from her hands. It’s still warm, so it must’ve just come out of the oven. “Come on in.”
We all head to the kitchen, and I set down the cake on the counter. Murphy immediately jumps up to investigate, sniffing at the covered dish with great interest.
My dad clears his throat, shooing Murphy away. “Uh, would you like to stay for a piece, Audrey? I was just about to make some coffee.”
“Oh, I don’t want to impose,” she says, but there’s something in her tone that suggests she wants to be convinced. “I know you two are probably busy.”
“It’s no imposition at all. We were clearing out the basement a little, but we’re due for a break anyway.”
My gaze ping-pongs back and forth as I watch their interaction—the way my dad is standing a little straighter, the way Audrey smiles at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
They’re both being slightly awkward in that way that teenagers do when they like each other but aren’t sure how to show it.
There was a point in my life, not that long ago really, when seeing my dad interested in anyone would have pissed me off. It would’ve brought up all that old anger about how he walked out on my mom and me, how he chose to be alone rather than be with his family.
But it’s been a long fucking time since then. I’m not that angry kid anymore, even if part of me still carries those scars. And the truth is, I don’t like the idea of him being all alone in this house with just Murphy for company. He’s getting older, and everyone deserves connection.
As Audrey agrees to stay, slipping off her coat and hanging it on the back of a chair, I glance at my watch.
“Uh, actually, I should probably run. I’m supposed to meet Kat downtown soon, and I can be a bit early.
” I glance over at my dad. “I’ll come back tomorrow for more basement organizing. We made good progress today.”
“Sounds good,” he says, but he’s mostly looking at Audrey.
I tell them both to enjoy their cake, giving them some privacy. On the way out, I pet Murphy goodbye, scratching behind his ears the way he likes until he purrs loud enough to vibrate my hand.
I’m a little early for meeting Kat, but not that far ahead of schedule, so I decide to just drive straight to the coffee shop downtown where we agreed to meet this morning. No point in going back to the cabin just to turn around again.
Parking isn’t hard to find, and I pull up into a spot right outside the coffee shop, still thinking about my dad and Audrey, grinning a bit at how flustered he looked.
I spot Kat through the café window before I even get out of the car. She’s sitting at a table by the window with a big mug in front of her, staring down at it like she’s trying to read tea leaves or something.
The sight of her makes me smile—but as I look closer, I realize that something seems off. She looks stiff, almost tense, and her face has a taut, closed off expression that makes my smile fade.
I get out of the car and go inside quickly, sitting down at the table across from her.
“Hey, bright eyes.”
She looks up at me, and the redness of her eyes hits me square in the chest. Something is definitely wrong.
I study her face, trying to read what happened. “You okay? Do you still want to go check out the ice carving thing?”
For a second, she doesn’t respond, just looks at me with those green eyes that are usually so bright.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says quietly.
The knot in my stomach that started forming when I saw her through the window tightens. “Okay. That’s fine. Should we do something else then? Do you want to just hang out here for a bit? We could grab some food, or go for a walk, or—”
“No.” She shakes her head, cutting me off. She licks her lips like she’s trying to gather words, then speaks slowly. “This… this isn’t a good idea. Our arrangement. It’s gotten too complicated. We should end it before someone gets hurt.”
My mouth opens, then closes again as shock washes over me. A cold rush washes over my skin, as if I’ve just been submerged in ice water.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my voice tight. “What brought this on? Everything was fine this morning. Better than fine. What changed?”
My mind races back to this morning. Waking up together, making pancakes, the way she smiled at me. The plans we made to spend the afternoon together. None of it makes sense with what she’s saying now.
My jaw clenches as a thought occurs to me. “Is this about Alexis? Because I have no fucking interest in her. I promise you that. I’m not—”
Something passes across Kat’s face, a flash of pain, something raw. But she shakes her head. “It’s not about that. It’s not about her.”
“Then what is it about?”
She swallows hard, her throat working.
“It’s just… time. We always knew it was temporary. And we should stop before it gets messy.” She looks down at her coffee cup, not meeting my eyes. “Life isn’t a fairy tale. We need to be realistic.”
My brain spins, trying to reconcile the Kat from this morning with the Kat sitting across from me now.
Something has changed in her. Something broke or shifted, and I can’t figure out what caused it.
She’s stiff and closed off, holding herself together with visible effort, as if she’s trying to protect herself and any little touch could shatter her into pieces.
It cracks something in my chest. I hate seeing her like this, hate whatever put that look on her face.
“Please talk to me,” I beg. “Help me understand what happened. What changed between this morning and now?”
She blinks, tears shining in her eyes, threatening to spill over.
“This will be better in the long run,” she says, her voice unsteady.
“I know you still have things to do with your dad, and Christmas hasn’t come yet, so of course you can still stay in the guest house.
That was our original agreement. But you probably shouldn’t stay in the main cabin anymore. It will just make things harder.”
My heart thuds hard, crashing against my ribs like it’s trying to break out. I feel like the floor just dropped out from under me, like gravity stopped working and I’m falling. The world is spinning too fast, and I can’t find my balance.
I try to say something, anything, not even sure what words I’m reaching for, just needing to convince her not to do this. To tell her that whatever is wrong, we can fix it. But before I can, she gets up from the table, her chair scraping against the floor.
“I’ll put your clothes and things downstairs.” She looks away, still avoiding my gaze. “So you can grab them whenever. You don’t have to see me.”
Then she leaves, walking quickly out of the coffee shop. The bell chimes as the door closes behind her, cheerful and oblivious.
I stare after her, sitting at the table alone.
Her coffee is still sitting across from me, half finished.
Steam rises from the surface, curling in the air.
I watch through the window as she gets into her car, as she sits there for a second with her hands on the wheel.
I can’t see her face from here, can’t tell what she’s thinking.
Then she pulls away, her car disappearing around the corner.
I swallow, my throat is so tight it actually hurts. There’s an empty feeling in my chest, as if a hole just got opened up and some vital piece of me was ripped out.
How did a day that started so perfectly, with her in my arms and pancakes burning because I couldn’t stop kissing her, turn into… this?