My phone finally buzzes but it isn’t with a text, it’s with an incoming call.
I take a calming breath before swiping to answer.
“Hello,” I whisper.
“Hey,”
“Hey,”
He chuckles through the phone, deep and smooth, making my thighs clench. “You already said that,”
I clear my throat and chastise myself for feeling like a giddy teenager. I suppose I missed out on all of this. I went from thinking boys had germs to getting my innocence stolen away. Yes, there was Silas after that, but phone calls and this nervousness to impress was never part of that relationship.
“So,” I break the silence. “Was it okay? Did it make sense?”
“It was amazing Rue, you followed the structure I suggested and with the quotes and your views, I don’t see how it could be any less than a B. You only need a C to pass this assignment,”
I feel my shoulders relax and I release the breath I didn’t even know I had been holding.
“You should be proud of yourself,” He continues. “I am,”
My eyes burn. “Your proud of me?” I question as a lump forms in my throat.
“Yes little vixen. You submitted a steaming pile of shit the first time,” I chuckle as a tear falls free. His voice softens. “But to go from that to what I just read. You put a lot of work into it, and it shows. Well done,”
I didn't realise how much I needed those words. I don’t think anyone has ever cared enough to be proud of me. I thought I was ok without that in my life, but as the tears continue to fall free, I guess I was wrong.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
We sit in silence for a short while before Asher breaks it.
“Are you going to the fundraiser tomorrow?”
Whatever moment we had is completely different to the fire that lights in my belly at the reminder of his attendance tomorrow night. Darcy. Asher is taking Darcy to the event and if what everyone says is true, then that’s their societal debut as a serious couple. My tears dry immediately at the reality of the situation and my voice comes out cold and clear, in complete contrast to the mopey mess I just was.
“Yes, I’ll be there,”
I feel his confusion through the phone.
“Listen I have to go. Thank you again for the help,”
“Wait, what… what just happened?” His voice is clipped.
“I’m tired and have things to do. I’ll see you andDarcytomorrow night,” I end the call before I can make it worse.
I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose, the sound low and frustrated. I really let my emotions get the best of me, and of course, the one that clawed its way to the surface was jealousy.
Asher was being kind. He’s helped me more than once, and I repaid him by throwing it all back in his face because he’stakingDarcyto some event. It’s not like we’re anything, not officially. Yes, he’s kissed me. Yes, we’ve shared moments, real ones, if I’m honest. But that doesn’tmeananything.
Still, no matter how many times I try to reason it away, the thought keeps hitting me like a slap.
He’s mine.
Not Darcy’s.Mine.
Not in the possessive sense, not exactly, but in that strange, intangible way that feels stitched into the very fabric of me. Like some unseen thread ties us together and cutting it would unravel something vital. How do you explain that to someone? How do you tell a person who barely knows you that you think they’re your soul mate, when there are so many secrets, so many fractures between you that you can’t even trust yourself?
I drop my hand and exhale a shaky laugh.
