Asher's Heart

Extra #3.1

FUTURE

(14 years later)

(Asher)

"Anderson needs your help," a sassy voice announced.

Ashton raised an eyebrow at that, a smirk playing at his lips. He found that amusing while I found it concerning. I only had myself to blame, though.

Pausing the game, I dropped the controller on the couch and stood up. "Keep an eye on Zev?" I tilted my head toward the baby monitor kept on the table. Ashton nodded.

I followed the kid as he dashed ahead of me.

"Milo," I called. "Don't run around. You'll hurt yourself," I said, knowing it was futile. The kid had too much energy.

When I caught up with him, I scooped him into my arms. He squealed, wrapping his legs around my torso and grabbing my hair with both hands.

I shook my head, smiling faintly.

"You've got to stop calling her Anderson, bud. She's your mother. Call her mom," I chastised. Well, I tried to.

He pouted. "But you call her Anderson," he argued.

I ruffled his brown hair. It had grown too big, getting past his eyebrows. He needed a haircut. Calla liked to tie his hair up into a ponytail. He didn't mind. He was happy as long as she played with him.

"Yeah, but... I can call her that. You can't."

"Why not?"

This kid. Time to use a different approach.

"Okay. You love her right?" I asked.

He nodded.

"And you want to make her happy?"

"Yes."

"Calling her mom would make her happy." He started shaking his head before I was even done with my sentence.

"Why don't you call her mom then?" he asked instead.

This kid-

I sighed. I was done. I could not fight with his toddler logic.

We entered the kitchen area where Anderson was busy mixing ingredients in a big bowl. Her hair was up in a messy bun with a few tendrils framing her face. I paused and just stared at her. It would always blow my mind that I get to call this amazingly beautiful person my wife.

Her face bloomed into a smile as she looked at us. My heart stuttered. We'd been together for 15 years and she still had that effect on me.

I got close to her and kissed her cheek, nuzzling her. She smelled of cinnamon. She let out an exhale.

I realized I was still holding Milo when he pushed my face away from my wife.

I glared at him but scoffed when I saw he was already glaring at me.

"My turn," he announced and made a show of kissing Anderson loudly on her cheek. Mwah.

Anderson giggled and kissed his cheek back. "Hi, baby," she cooed at him.

My son glowed with happiness as he raised an eyebrow at me.

This little shit. Crowing to his own father over who Anderson loved more. Never thought my own son would become my biggest competitor.

"You need me?" I asked my wife, letting Milo down and rolling up my sleeves to help her.

"Ah, no. Not with the food. We don't want anyone to end up at the hospital," she said mostly as a joke but I also wasn't allowed to cook anything above boiling water in our kitchen so I knew she meant it.