When He Saved Me

t h i r t y - t h r e e

As we walk back toward the ocean, the moonlight casting a soft glow on our faces, I feel a sense of peace wash over me. Just then, Asher's phone buzzes in his pocket, breaking the tranquil moment. He pulls it out and checks the screen, his expression shifting almost immediately.

"It's my dad," he says, his voice tinged with concern. "He's calling."

I watch as he hesitates for a moment, his thumb hovering over the screen. "Do you want to answer it?" I ask gently.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I guess I should. He's been trying to reach me a lot lately." Asher presses the button to answer, putting the phone on speaker.

"Hello?" he says, his tone cautious.

"Asher," his dad's voice comes through, rough but familiar. "I've been trying to get in touch. Can we talk?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Asher replies, his jaw tightening. I can sense the tension in his body as he steps a bit away from me, needing space for this conversation.

"Are you coming home this weekend?" his dad asks, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I really want to talk to you. There's something important we need to discuss."

Asher glances back at me, and I give him an encouraging nod. "I... I can't come home, Dad. Not this weekend."

"Why not? I need to see you," his dad presses, frustration creeping into his tone. "I know things have been rough between us, but I'm trying to reach out. I'm not the same person I was."

"You say that every time, but it doesn't change anything," Asher replies, his voice steady but laced with hurt. "You hurt Mom when she needed you the most. I'm not ready to just forget that."

"I made mistakes," his dad concedes, his voice softening. "But I want to talk about it. I'm not asking for forgiveness right now. I just want to explain. Please, Asher."

Asher looks down at the sand, a mix of emotions crossing his face. "You don't understand. Every time you call, it just brings back all the pain. I can't keep doing this. I need time."

"I'm not asking you to forgive me overnight," his dad pleads. "But I'm asking for a chance to make things right. I'm running out of time, Asher."

The weight of those words hangs heavy in the air, and I can see Asher's resolve wavering. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice suddenly sharper.

"I'm... I'm not well," his dad admits, the vulnerability in his voice evident. "I've been in and out of the hospital. I just want to see you before it's too late."

Asher's expression darkens, and I can feel the tension radiating from him. "I can't do this right now," he says finally, his voice strained. "I'm sorry. I just can't."

"Please, son," his dad says, desperation seeping into his tone. "I need you to come home. I want to talk. I want to try."

"Not this weekend. Not ever, not until I'm ready," Asher replies, his voice firm. He ends the call without waiting for a response, staring out at the ocean, a storm of emotions swirling within him.

I move closer, wrapping my arms around him, feeling the tension in his body. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to decide anything right now."

He leans into me, his breathing heavy. "It's just... he always finds a way to pull me back in, even when I don't want to be."

"I know," I say softly. "But you're not obligated to respond to his calls. You have to do what feels right for you."

Asher takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "I just wish he could understand that the past isn't easy to forget."