Defamed: Book Three (bxb) ✔️

The Letters

NOTICE: I HAVE CHANGED THE AGE GAP FROM ALMOST THREE YEARS TO TWO YEARS AND A MONTH. WHATEVER YOU READ PRIOR ABOUT THEIR AGES WILL BE ADJUSTED LATER. THANK YOU. (I'm dumb and didn't calculate right. I hate timelines. Cameron still would have been eighteen, but freshly, and I always meant for him to be nineteen or almost nineteen. They are turning twenty-eight instead of twenty-seven in the current storyline, and that will also be adjusted later. THANK YOU.)

ASHER ADAIR'S LETTER TO CAMERON WINDSOR:

I don't know how to start letters.

I hope this letter finds you well.

Nope, I feel like a housewife waiting for their spouse to come home.

To whom this may concern.

Yeah, that doesn't fit. It concerns you.

Ah, wait, I've got it.

Cameron Windsor, the person who introduced himself with his last name,

I'm Asher Adair, in case that was missed somewhere along the way. I turn twenty-one next month, which only so happens to be about two weeks away. January first. Yeah, I was a New Year's Day baby. When I was a kid, I always thought the holiday would take away from my birthday, but as I grew up, I realized the world was throwing a party for me. Okay, maybe not for me, but there was always something going on, so I was never bored. I don't usually do anything for my birthday, not anymore. I don't know if telling you the dark things is the way to go, but I have no idea what else to write about. I suppose the purpose of writing this is to tell you why we should go out or to warn you away from my cryptic past.

Okay, I don't have a criminal record or anything fun like that. I'm not cryptic, either. I'm a regular person.

About nine years ago, my parents passed away in a fire. It was in the house, and well, my Mom saved my life. It's sad, I know, but instead of being sad it happened anymore, I cherish the memories I was able to have with both of my parents. They were amazing people, and they raised me to be an even better person. I don't have any living family that I know of, so I grew up with a friend of mine whose Mom adopted me into her home. Not legally, but close enough.

I continued life and found a dream, and I want to tell you about it upfront because I can't let this come out later. I've been actively working for years to build up a company, and in other words, I want to become someone that others can come to and sign with me for a brand. When I was eleven, I started making a game of my own to revolve around, and I wanted it seen by the world. I've been working very hard since I started college to be seen, but there is another reason I bring this up.

I'm determined to be self-made. I wasn't aware of your status when I started talking to you, and I need you to know that I don't want any special treatment; I'm not after your money, and I don't want you to think I am. I'm sure you might have heard this plenty, and I hope you can believe me. If we end up becoming more, I didn't want it to come out later.

Moving on. Moving on. You asked me about my reading, and I really don't have a specific genre I read. I'm much like you. I read when I need an escape, but I probably read a bit more than you do. I picked up a book that I liked the cover of and sat down with it. I've read my fair share of romance in my life, but maybe not as much as you have. I always felt like the protagonists of the novels I read weren't realistic enough. There is a man who is just too perfect. There are no flaws. Humans all have flaws. Then, when the man has flaws, the readers are upset. He broke character. No, no, he didn't. He had a human emotion. I think people forget that humans can snap and say things they don't mean in the heat of the moment. Or the way they act, they choose not to see it coming and then blame the author, who knows their characters better than the readers.