Asher?
Asher was with me?
Asher Remington.
Not Jordan.
Reality finally dawned on me, and I wrapped my arms around the man who was trying to comfort me.
I wasn’t in Houston.
I was in Crystal Fork, Montana with a man who would never hurt me.
“Asher?” I whimpered.
“I’m here, sweetheart. You’re safe,” he crooned as he held my head tightly against his shoulder with one hand and stroked my back with the other. “I’ve got you, Sierra.”
I was alive.
I hadn’t died that day.
I tried to slow the desperate beating of my heart and my rapid breaths.
I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.
I hadn’t experienced that particular nightmare in so long that I’d apparently forgotten how to slowly shake off the night terror.
I started to sob against Asher’s shoulder.
He simply held me tight and muttered reassurances into my ear until the tears began to subside.
“I’m sorry,” I said in a tremulous voice. “That hasn’t happened in a long time.”
Three years ago, the dreams had come almost nightly, but they’d stopped about a year after I’d started treatment.
This nightmare had been particularly bad.
It had been so damn vivid that I’d felt like I was in that bathroom all over again.
Jordan had been on my mind lately, probably because I was in a relationship for the first time after my horrific marriage.
I probably should have told Asher everything, but I’d delayed talking about those years because I was so happy just to be with a man like Asher.
That had probably been foolish on my part.
Yes, I’d recovered.
Yes, I had moved on.
Yes, I was slowly putting my life back together.
But regardless of my extensive treatment for nearly three years, there were some things about my past that would probably always haunt me just a little.
“Don’t ever apologize for something that isn’t your fault,” Asher said huskily. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I took a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t, but I think there are things you need to know, and I think I need to get it all out there.”
I didn’twantto talk about it, but Ineededto talk about it.
