Page 85 of Twisted Truth

He rubs his hand along his jaw, uncomfortable. “Ella, I said I was sorry.”

“And I appreciate your apology. Or rather, I appreciate Matthew’s attempt to force you to apologize, more like.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You told me yourself that you realized you were in the wrongafterMatthew gave you an earful. So, excuse me if I’m not impressed by the fact that you couldn’t come to that conclusion yourself.”

“We have to get past this and move on.”

“We do, but I will move at my own pace this time.”

“And what pace will that be?”

“One that I’m comfortable with!” I snap, losing my patience. “I trusted you, Asher. I let myself be persuaded by you and Matthew and the team into believing this would be safe. And I put myself in a very vulnerable position with you because I thought we had each other’s backs. I thought that if we were forced into this, that at least we would be partners in it. Do youthink I move in with men I don’t know, as a rule? Do you think I . . . do what we did Friday night with men I’ve known less than a week? I don’t! I’ve never been so intimate with a stranger in my life, but I did it because I was told it was safe. I did it because I was willing to give this situation my best effort, even if it scared the shit out of me!

“And so, I let my guard down. I let myself be charmed into thinking that the snake in the basket was on my side, and I reached into that basket. And what happened? I got bit. And not only that, but I got bit while on display for the whole world to see. And now, I’m being dragged through the media as the plain, boring girl that dared to fly too close to Asher Langford’s sun. So no, I’m not going to reach back into that basket. And I’m not going to fly close to your sun. I’m going to move at my own pace and you’re going to take what I’m willing to give, and you’re not going to ask for more. You threw away that right Saturday night, and I’m not ready to just hand it back to you.”

Ignoring his stunned face, I stand from my bed and go into my bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I lock the door, turn on the shower, and strip out of my lounge clothes. I don’t hear anything from him as I get in the shower, and I can only pray he’ll be gone from my room by the time I’m out.

25

ASHER

“What can I help you with, darling?” my mother says, sitting down on the sofa in her living room. She sets down a tray of herbal tea—no caffeine will be served in her home at this hour—and stirs honey and milk into her teacup. My father comes into the living room, draped in his robe. He removes his glasses and rubs his tired eyes. It’s only ten p.m., but since it’s a Monday night, that’s like two a.m. to my parents.

“I fu—messedup. With Ella.”

“We’re aware,” Dad says.

“What happened?” Mother asks.

“The, uh, headlines yesterday and today weren’t wrong. I was cold and distant to Ella on Saturday night. I didn’t realize people would notice like they did.”

My mother looks less than impressed at my confession. “You’ve spent your entire life in the public eye, Asher. How could you think the press wouldn’t realize your distance and capitalize on it?”

“I guess I thought I was hiding it better than I was. I thought I was being more discreet.”

She takes a sip of her tea, her eyes giving me an exasperated, pitying look. “You weren’t, darling.”

I huff. “I know that now.”

“So, why were you so cold and distant Saturday?” my father asks, preparing his own tea. “I thought you liked Ella. You made such a show of choosing her, of standing up for her in front of the board.”

“Idolike Ella. And I stand by my decision that she’s the best person for this role. I just . . . it got too real, too fast, and I had one of my dreams on Friday night.”

My mother lets out a sigh and gives me another pitying look. I hate it when she does that.

“I’m fine,” I insist. “I just had a bad day after the dream, and that bad day happened to be the day we had an event together.”

“Yourfirstevent together,” my father says, taking a sip of tea.

“Yes.” Fuck. “So, not the best impression to lead with.”

“How is Ella handling all of this?” my mother asks.

“She’s . . . upset. Obviously. She told me she went along with all of this because she trusted me, and then on the first public appearance, I threw that trust in her face.”

“She’s not wrong, darling.”