I considered texting him a hundred times last night. Typing things like: What are you thinking? What happened? Why did you break up with me? What did I do that was too much for you?
I know I did something. That’s the only explanation that makes any sense for what happened between us. I know it was my fault but I think I’d do it again, and I don’t even know what it was. That’s the root of it all and I so desperately want to message him and ask. I was insecure, I know that much and it felt like every time I opened my mouth, I made it seem like I was questioning us. That’s not what I meant to do. I just … I needed more of him. Maybe that’s what it was? I was too needy?
I could ask, but Asher wants to move past all that.
Jumping in headfirst would be reckless. It hurt too much to say goodbye the first time. The bottom line is, I don’t trust him. I haven’t trusted any man since he threw me away like he did.
Stretching first, I lean forward in my chair and try to focus harder on the paperwork.
The effort lasts a whole thirty seconds since the next document on my list is Asher’s parents’ house. They’re moving?
I stop and scroll back up, scanning through the paperwork.
“The Hart house is going up for sale?” I shoot a glance at my mom just as she walks in, drops her purse on her desk and takes her seat. With my mouth still open in question.
“What was that, Bri?” she asks, slipping off her mint green cardigan that gives her tweed cream dress a very uptown feel and settling into her seat.
My butt is out of my seat in a flash, paper in hand.
She’s been a machine all morning. A brilliant, cheery machine. Call after call, never getting impatient. She’s a powerhouse. And now is the perfect time for a break … so I can dig for information. “Isn’t this Asher’s house?”
“His parents’ house, technically.” She flashes me a smile over a file folder in her hands. Information not forthcoming at all. Come on, Mom. I wait a moment, but no other information comes. She does peer up at me, though, a single brow raised expectantly.
“Asher didn’t tell me that.”
My mom hums and considers me. “Is it something you think he would or should tell you?”
I hesitate.
“Is that the …” She pauses to reach into her purse for her phone and a tube of lip balm before rephrasing her question. “Are you two talking like that again?
I know she’s asking because she wants more information. My mom talks to just about everybody in town most days. She’ll have heard things about me and Asher. Of course she knew about the breakup before anyone else. I texted her that night. Same with my sister. This particular situation that just happened in the back of the bar, though … that’s not something I want my mother to be aware of. I wonder if I’m reading regular curiosity into her tone or … hope.
“No,” I answer with a hard swallow. “I guess not.”
“It would be if the two of you were back together.” My mom switches out a couple of folders. “Are you?”
“No.” I let out a surprised laugh, my face heating up. “No, we’re definitely not together.”
“Huh,” she says. It’s an invitation to keep talking. That light little noise could mean anything, coming from her. That she’s surprised we’re not together or that she thinks it’ll happen or … nothing at all.
It’s hard to resist the temptation to share. I nearly pull the chair back behind me rather than stay standing. I could tell my mother anything. Shifting the weight from one foot to the other, I give her a little info.
“I’m going to see him tonight, though.” It’s the truth. There’s also no need to hide it from my mom. If Asher and I start spending time together, she’ll know about it anyway. In a town like this, it’s best to be ahead of the gossip.
“Oh, really?” I honestly can’t tell if she’s pretending to be deeply into her work or what. “By the way, did you get those comps over to Mary?”
“Almost done with them,” I say. “I’m just wrapping up the contracts for Jason first.”
“Sounds good.” Mom faces her computer screen and scrolls, her fingers deft on her mouse. Asher’s parents’ place flashes up on her screen. “This house,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “It needs work done, but the market’s hot for the area. Easy to sell. They’d probably tear it down, though.”
The thought of Asher’s house being torn down brings a lump to my throat. I swallow back my emotions. It’s not because I’m still in love with him. It’s because I’ve known his house for years. A realtor like my mom would see that it needs work, but all I can see is all the happy memories that exist there. I’d rather put the work in than see it reduced to rubble.
I can’t imagine this town without him and his family. His dad has this gut laugh that makes everyone else around him laugh too. And his mom was the one who did all the decor for every school play. They’re a part of this town and I don’t understand why they would move.
It kills me to think I don’t know everything about Asher anymore. We used to be so close. Close enough, I thought, to overcome any problems that came our way. That’s why, even though I saw it coming, the breakup still blindsided me in the end. I truly believed we’d be able to push past whatever was happening in our lives. If I could make time for him at school, he could make time for me back in town.
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