When He Saved Me

t w e n t y - s i x

--------Ashers Pov-------

Asher's story about his mom hangs in the air between us, its weight pulling at my chest. The quiet night seems to magnify the tension between us, but it's also strangely comforting. Maybe it's the shared silence, or the way the stars look like a blanket of diamonds scattered across the sky, but I feel a tiny bit of the weight I've been carrying lift off my shoulders.

"Why did you bring me here, Asher?" I ask after a long pause, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

He turns his head to look at me, his expression unreadable. "Because you needed to get out of that house. You've been cooped up for weeks. It's not healthy."

I bite my lip, not wanting to admit that he's right. "I know. It's just... hard."

"Yeah, I get that," he says softly. "But hiding away isn't going to make things better. You need to face it. But you don't have to face it alone."

I let his words sink in, feeling a mix of emotions churn inside me. He's right, but it's not that simple. "I just don't know how to act around everyone. They're all trying so hard to be normal, but it feels forced. And I can't stand it."

Asher nods, his eyes still on the stars. "They're just worried about you. We all are."

"I don't want them to worry," I say, my voice cracking. "I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not a burden, Madison," Asher says firmly, turning to face me. "You're part of this messed-up family, and we take care of each other. Even when it's hard."

His words strike a chord in me, and I feel my eyes well up with tears. I quickly blink them away, not wanting to break down in front of him. "I'm just so tired, Asher. Tired of feeling like this. Tired of pretending I'm okay."

"I know," he says gently. "But you don't have to pretend with me. I get it. More than you know."

I look at him, really look at him, and see the sincerity in his eyes. For the first time in weeks, I feel a flicker of hope. Maybe I don't have to go through this alone. Maybe there's someone who understands.

We lie in silence for a while, just watching the stars. The cool night air and the soft rustling of leaves create a peaceful atmosphere, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me. I find myself relaxing, the tension slowly easing from my body.

"Tell me more about your mom," I say suddenly, breaking the silence. "If you're okay with it."

Asher takes a deep breath, his gaze shifting back to the sky. "She was... amazing. Strong, kind, always thinking of others. Even when she was sick, she made sure everyone else was okay."

I can hear the emotion in his voice, and it tugs at my heart. "She sounds incredible."

"She was," he says, a sad smile playing on his lips. "She fought so hard, but in the end, it was just too much. And my dad... he couldn't handle it. He turned to other women, looking for comfort in all the wrong places."

"That must have been so hard for you," I say softly, reaching out to touch his hand.

"It was," he admits. "I felt like I had to be the strong one, for her and for me. But after she died and he remarried so quickly, I couldn't stay. It felt like a betrayal to her memory."

I squeeze his hand, offering what little comfort I can. "I'm so sorry, Asher."

He turns to me, his eyes filled with pain and something else—gratitude, maybe. "Thanks, Mads. It means a lot."

We fall silent again, the weight of our shared stories hanging between us. It's a strange feeling, baring your soul to someone and finding comfort in their understanding. But it's also liberating, like a burden lifted off your shoulders.