31. Charleigh
THIRTY-ONE
CHARLEIGH
Two Months Later
I had just signed the last document to close on my new flower shop when Asher received the phone call. Without hesitation, we packed our overnight bags, and Asher arranged his private jet to fly out as soon as we made it to the airport. A few hours later, the wheels of his jet land on the West Coast.
The Californian sun presses against my skin differently than it does in the north. It’s warm and inviting, never wavering in its welcome. It doesn’t threaten to leave or suddenly vanish.
We haven’t stopped long enough to take in the change of scenery before we slide into Asher’s waiting car and race to his father’s house.
Asher is quiet on the drive over, and when we pull in front of the enormous Beverly Hills mansion, he grabs my hand and leads me inside.
I’m wondering what thoughts must be going through his mind when we step through the front door. One of the housekeepers holds it open for us, and I watch on as a nurse appears in the hallway, ushering us through the massive house. I take in the wrought iron, grand staircase, the marble floors, and the glass chandeliers. I squeeze Asher’s hand as we leave the grandiose entrance and head toward the back end of the house. We’re moving quickly, but I can’t help smiling at the pictures hanging on the wall.
Asher and his father wading in the water on surf boards.
Asher’s UCLA graduation photo.
Asher laughing as he lifts a piece of sushi to his mouth.
Asher mid-cannonball into their backyard pool. Although his face is scrunched, I can tell it was taken not too long after he’d left Connecticut.
But when Asher’s hand slips from mine the second we meet the threshold to the backroom, my eyes fall to the picture on the end table, beside Christopher Egan’s bed. One of him and his son smiling at the camera, with the same tilt to their grin and the same gold-flecked eyes.
“Asher,” Chris croaks. He lifts his fist to cover his mouth, coughing into it. An oxygen canula is connected to his nose, and he takes a few seconds to catch his breath before speaking again. “I wasn’t sure when you were landing.”
“We left as soon as possible,” Asher says, leaning down to give his father a hug.
Chris lifts his arms and wraps them around his son.
Asher sits in the chair beside his father’s bed.
“We?” Chris asks. His eyebrows arch before his eyes land on me. My cheeks heat with both Egan men staring at me.
“You’re Charleigh, I assume?” he asks.
I step into the room, nervous as I move to Asher’s side. “I am.” I smile.
“How did you know she was Charleigh?” Asher asks, eyebrows knitted.
“Oh, come on.” Chris coughs. “In the past ten years, you’ve only ever mentioned one woman. It may have been the one time, but a father doesn’t forget the look in their son’s eyes when they’re in love. You were heartbroken, but I saw how much she meant to you.”
He wags his finger at Asher when he says to me, “Don’t let my son fool you. He was a wreck when he came to me, and it wasn’t just because of the fire. I didn’t think he was ever going to get over you. He was like a lovesick puppy. Took forever just to coax a genuine smile out of him.”
“Oh, my God, Dad.” Asher groans, heat spreading across his cheeks.
I cover my mouth, unable to hold back my laughter. “Honestly, Mr. Egan. It’s good to know I wasn’t the only one suffering.”
“Oh.” He waves me off. “Call me, Chris. You’re going to be my daughter-in-law one day, after all.”
My heart practically stops.
“Well, that’s if my son doesn’t drag his feet.” He winks at me before turning to Asher.
Asher glances up at me and chuckles. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I laugh. “I think this is a very interesting and fun conversation.”
“She’s a smart one.” Chris smiles with his mouth closed and breathes through his nose.
“She is,” Asher says, but adjusts in his chair. He places his hand over his dad’s, and his face turns serious. “Now, tell me what the doctor told you again.”
Chris closes his eyes and presses his head back against his pillow. He rolls it to the side and looks straight at his son. The bags under his eyes droop farther. “There isn’t much time.”
Asher’s breath catches and he swallows. “I want a second opinion.” He shakes his head. “I don’t believe there isn’t anything else to be done.” He hangs his head, unable to keep himself together.
“Hey, hey, look at me.” Chris moves his hand out from under Asher’s and squeezes it. “Look at me.” Asher does as he says, lifting his head. “I don’t want a second opinion, and there isn’t anything else to be done. I’m tired, son.”
“But, Dad…”
I place my hand on Asher’s back. My heart breaks and tears sting the corners of my eyes. In the few moments since I’ve met Chris, he’s shown more compassion to me than my own father ever did. The love he’s giving Asher is a love I’ve never experienced, and somehow, I feel his loss already, knowing Chris and Asher don’t deserve this.
“Don’t be sad,” Chris soothes Asher. “I’m not. I’ve lived my life, and I’m so sorry my past caught up to you. I’m sorry about Cyrus.”
“Dad, don’t. Stop. None of that matters. I know the truth. I never doubted you.”
Tears line Chris’s exhausted eyes. “I’ve only ever loved you and wanted what was best for you.”
“I know you have.”
“I can go peacefully knowing you’re loved and taken care of by this one.” He nods toward me.
I give a weak smile, sniffing to keep myself from crying.
“I’m proud of you, Asher,” Chris says in a hushed tone. “Don’t ever question that.”
“I promise, I won’t.”
“Good.”
Chris gives his son a smile, and my chest tightens, seeing the love he has for Asher. My heart aches for something I never had with my own, and suddenly, I need air.
“I’ll give you both time to catch up,” I say to both men.
They both give me a smile, and Asher kisses the back of my hand before letting me go.
I step out of the room and wander the house before the housekeeper escorts me upstairs and into Asher’s old bedroom. A sadness drags me down, glimpses of mine and Asher’s past colliding with our present.
Loving Asher has always been easy despite the pain that comes with it, but being in Asher’s old bedroom makes me realize losing him for those ten years may have torn us apart, but Asher found beauty in his life. He needed to lose me to find himself. He found happiness. A happiness that kept him breathing.
When I sit on the edge of the bed and look around, though, taking in the pieces of Asher’s life I thought I’d never get to see, exhaustion takes hold, pulling me under. I lay back on the pillow and allow sleep to take over.