Page 50 of On One Condition

We’re standing here together, yet I feel a world apart from her.

Helpless.

That’s how I feel in regards to the lies my father told Asher.

Furious and confused.

How I feel concerning the ones I’m pretty certain he told me too. Because after what Asher just said, I know there’s no way Pop threatened to press charges.

None.

She would have mentioned it. She would have said that Pop pushed back with that accusation.

The part of me that needs an answer on this, pushes it down. She needs to feel validated, not overshadowed. She needs to be heard, not drowned out.

Christ.

What kind of man am I that I just went along with it? That I never questioned what my dad told me? That I walked away from Asher out of fear because of the blind trust I had in my father?

The party goes on beyond the door. People shouting and laughing.

But I feel lost.

Like my footing, the foundation that I’ve built everything on—my father and our relationship—just shifted. And I haven’t even begun to process what her peers said about her after we rushed out of Cedar Falls.

Asher’s spine slowly stiffens, her muscles tense, and she pushes back from me. Her jaw is set, her eyes guarded. “They may have been lies, Ledger, but you never got in touch with me. No texts. No emails. No letters. You knew exactly where I was, where I lived, and not once did you ever reach out. You can blame your father for the first part, but the second part is on you . . . and that’s almost worse.”

“There’s more to it. There’s my side. There’s—”

Bang.

We both jump as a fist pounds on the door. “Come on, man. I’ve got to take a piss.”

“Asher. Let’s get out of here. I need to explain why. Somewhere that’s . . . not a bathroom.”

She shakes her head and wipes more tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, hurt and sorrow etched in the lines of her face.

Another pound. “Open the fucking door.”

I take a step toward her and she holds her hand up to stop me. “Don’t. Please.” Her voice breaks, and I swear the sound echoes through me.

She’s shutting down.

She’s putting walls up.

“It was a long time ago. It doesn’t have to define this, us, seeing each other again. Right now—”

“It defined me though.” She takes another step back and puts her hands up for me to stop. “Just . . . I need time, Ledger.”

“Time for what?”

“Seeing you again. Like this . . . I need to figure out how I feel about it all.”

I nod. “So, is this about the past? About the present? About the future? I’m confused.”

“Jesus, dude,” the voice on the other side of the door says. “I want whatever you took if you’re lasting this long.”

“Give me a goddamn second, will you?” I turn back to Asher. There’s a sadness in her eyes that nearly undoes me.