Five Years Ago
His hand was on my throat—not squeezing, not choking. Just there. But it was trembling. He was trembling.
His whole body had gone rigid, his eyes burning with something raw and dark. I had never seen him like this.
"Don’t ever say that again," he growled.
A cold chill ran down my spine.
I nodded quickly, my breath hitching. But it wasn’t enough for him.
"I want to hear it," he demanded.
My lips parted, but nothing came out. He didn’t move, didn’t blink. The air between us felt suffocating.
"I… I’ll never say it again," I finally whispered.
Asher inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling like he was trying to steady himself. Slowly, his hand dropped from my throat. He sat back in his seat, dragging a hand down his face, eyes shutting tight.
I swallowed, my fing
