14. Sunny
I spent the entire summer at Asher’s apartment. Sam and Claire didn’t mind. They were happy for me. I’d never lived with a boyfriend before, so it was new, and exciting, and just distracting enough to ease my heartache over Dex.
Yes, ease— not erase.
One letter can make all the difference.
Sometimes I wonder where I’d be right now if I’d given Dex the love letter I wrote him in high school.
I could have given it to him after the first time we slept together.
Or after the last. If I’d known it would be the last time, maybe I would have.
Whenever I think about him, a wave of grief washes over me.
But I try my best to anchor myself back to the present.
I have no other choice. Maybe soon I’ll stop counting the days since I last heard from him.
Fall quarter’s officially begun, and I just moved out of Asher’s place and into the dorm where I’ll be an RA again this year.
But tonight I’m back at his apartment, making him dinner for a change.
I don’t have the first clue how to cook, but I’m hell-bent on reciprocating for every delicious meal he’s made me. He offers to help, but I refuse.
“It can’t be that hard,” I say, rolling up my sleeves and twisting my long hair into a bun so he can tell I mean business. I hand him a glass of red wine and tell him to relax on the couch because I want the meal to be a surprise.
“Let me know if you need anything!” he says before kissing the top of my head. As he walks into the living room, I’m pretty sure I hear him chuckle.
I’m making spaghetti and meatballs because it’s one of Asher’s favorite meals and seems relatively simple to put together.
The meatballs are pre-made and come frozen in a bag, so I dump them into a pan with jarred tomato sauce.
I wait for my pot of water to boil, then toss in the spaghetti. That’s when I notice a crackling sound.
Shit . I must have turned the heat too high on the meatballs, because they’re all charred on the bottom.
Most of the tomato sauce has evaporated too, and the remaining bits are thick and stuck to the bottom of the pan.
I glance at the spaghetti. In my rush to check on the meatballs, I forgot to stir the pasta, and most of the strands are glued together.
So I do what any self-respecting chef does when they manage to mess up a meal that a child could probably make. I cry.
Asher must hear me because he comes into the kitchen to survey the situation. “Oh no, what happened?” he asks, pulling me into a hug.
“Just look,” I say, rubbing the tears from my eyes .
He lifts the lid on the meatballs and takes a peek at the spaghetti. Then he laughs and shakes his head. He’s still looking at the food when he says it. “I love you, Sunny.”
I look up at him, stunned.
Asher turns from the charred meatballs to me. “I love you,” he says, looking into my eyes this time. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
I press my head into his chest and wrap my arms around him. “I love you too,” I say.
How could I not love Asher? What’s not to love?
I bring Asher home with me for the holidays.
Well, not home, exactly. I don’t feel comfortable staying at my mom’s with a boyfriend, so we get a hotel room in Cleveland instead.
My mom doesn’t resist as much as I’d anticipated.
She’s thrilled that I’ll be introducing her to a boyfriend for the first time.
She offers to take us to one of the best steakhouses in the city the night we arrive.
Asher’s nervous, I can tell. He packed a suit and tie to wear to dinner.
I told him he didn’t have to, but he’d already made up his mind, so I decided to dress up too.
I put on the little black dress I packed.
It’s long-sleeved and hits just above my knees, and I finish the look with black boots with very high heels, which means I won’t have to stand on my tip-toes to kiss Asher tonight.
“Okay, I’m ready,” I call out to him from the bathroom after I’m done with my makeup. I’m spritzing myself with perfume when he walks in.
“Wow,” he says, dragging a hand down his clean-shaven face. He stands behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist and gazes at my reflection in the mirror. “What did I do to deserve you?” he says.
The way he’s admiring me sends shivers up my spine.
I turn to face him and let my eyes fall from his piercing gaze, to his chest, to the abs I know are hiding under the button-down shirt he just ironed.
I brace my fingers against them. And suddenly we’re kissing, and before I know it, Asher’s lifting me onto the countertop and sliding off my underwear.
Thankfully we’re not late for dinner, but my mom still manages to beat us. When Asher and I walk into the restaurant, she’s already seated. She sees us and stands eagerly, a bright smile on her face.
“Sweetie, hi!” she says, reaching out to give me a warm hug. Then she takes a step back to get a good look at Asher. “Well, aren’t you a handsome couple!” she tells us.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Asher says, reaching out his hand.
We take our seats at the table—Asher and I on one side, my mom on the other. Then a man walks up to us. I assume he’s there to welcome us to the restaurant. He’s dressed impeccably and smells very nice.
He sits down next to my mom.
“Sweetheart,” she says, as I look over at her curiously. “This is my friend, Luis.”
I shift my gaze to Luis, then back to my mom again. Luis reaches out his hand.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” he says with a warm smile. He has a slight accent, and his voice has a soft rasp to it that’s quite pleasing to the ear. “And you must be Asher,” Luis continues, greeting him.
Have I assessed this situation correctly? Does my mom have a boyfriend ? To my knowledge, she hasn’t dated anyone seriously in years. She’s so busy, after all. But people change, I guess. Maybe her priorities have shifted. Maybe she finally realized she doesn’t want work to consume her life.
Maybe hell froze over.
“So nice to meet you!” I finally stammer.
“Luis and I met at a medical conference in Miami back in June. He’s a surgeon, too,” my mom explains as she gazes at him adoringly.
June? That was six months ago!
“General surgeon,” Luis clarifies with a dismissive wave. “ I do the easy stuff. Not like your brilliant mom, here.” He gives her a sweet smile, and she blushes.
Yes— my hopelessly jaded mother is blushing. What in the Twilight Zone is going on here? In all the time I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her glow like this.
Frankly, it gives me hope where I’d all but lost it. Hope in happy endings.
I’m thrilled for my mom, but this is still a lot to process.
Me, introducing a boyfriend to her for the first time.
Her, introducing a boyfriend to me. There’s a definite Gilmore Girls vibe at the table.
What’s more, I told my mom about Asher after we’d been dating for two months, and she waited half a year to tell me about Luis.
But I guess I’m not surprised. She probably wanted to make sure he was in this for the long haul.
After all, the last man she loved left when she got pregnant.
I can’t blame her for having trust issues.
Still, she could have at least given me a heads up that she was bringing a date to dinner…
especially since she knew Asher was coming.
I’m usually the one keeping my relationships a secret. Now I know how Mia must feel.
Hmph.
I order a martini to take the edge off. But once the conversation starts flowing, the dynamic feels pretty natural.
It helps that Luis and Asher are both so wonderful.
I learn that Luis moved to Cleveland for work three years ago, after his late wife passed away from breast cancer.
He has two grown daughters, one of whom is pre-med at Stanford, and the other, a fashion photographer in New York.
“They love to make me travel,” he jokes, pointing his fingers in opposite directions.
Asher tells my mom and Luis about growing up in a military family, and all the times he had to move and start at new schools. He talks about his plans to pursue a masters in social work, and his dream of opening a counseling center for veterans and their families.
“I’m really looking forward to that time in my life,” he says with a smile. “Feeling settled in my career, owning my own home, having a family. I know I shouldn’t take my youth for granted, but I moved around so much as a kid that I’ve always yearned for that kind of stability.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch my mom beaming at me.