Chapter 6
1112 Words
Chapter 6: The Worst Weekend Of My Life
"Absolutely not."
Ivy slammed her orange juice onto the kitchen counter.
Across from her, Grace didn't even look up from her wedding planner.
"You already agreed."
"I was emotionally ambushed."
"You nodded."
"I was in shock."
"You said okay."
"I say a lot of things under pressure!"
Saturday morning sunlight spilled through the kitchen windows while Theodore quietly drank his coffee and wisely chose not to get involved.
Twenty-four years of parenting had taught Grace Collins one important lesson.
Ignore the drama.
It usually exhausted itself.
Usually.
"I have plans this weekend."
"No, you don't."
"How would you know?"
"Because I know you."
Ivy opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"...That's not the point."
"It kind of is."
The traitor.
Across the room, Asher leaned against the refrigerator while eating a protein bar.
A protein bar.
At eight in the morning.
Like some sort of fitness cult member.
"Why are you smiling?" Ivy demanded.
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm eating breakfast."
"That's exactly what a smiling person would say."
Theodore choked on his coffee.
Grace looked delighted.
Asher appeared entirely too relaxed for someone ruining her weekend.
The problem wasn't spending time with him.
Okay.
That was a lie.
The problem was that every interaction reminded her why she had fallen for him in the first place.
And that was significantly more dangerous.
"Wonderful." Grace clapped her hands together. "Now that that's settled, Theodore and I are leaving."
Ivy froze.
"Leaving?"
"For the weekend."
"What do you mean leaving?"
Theodore stood from his chair.
"We have meetings with the wedding venue."
"Wonderful."
"And cake tastings."
"Great."
"And flower consultations."
"Fantastic."
"And we'll be staying overnight."
The orange juice nearly slipped from Ivy's hand.
"...Overnight?"
Grace smiled brightly.
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Sweetheart."
"No."
"Sweetheart."
"NO."
"You're twenty-four."
"AND YET SOMEHOW STILL A CHILD IN THIS SITUATION!"
The front door closed behind them less than ten minutes later.
And then there were two.
The silence that followed felt strangely loud.
Ivy stood near the kitchen island.
Asher stood near the refrigerator.
Neither moved.
Neither spoke.
Finally—
"I can leave if it'll make you more comfortable."
The simple offer caught her off guard.
She glanced up.
He wasn't joking.
He genuinely meant it.
"No."
The answer escaped before she could stop it.
His eyebrow lifted slightly.
She immediately regretted speaking.
"I mean..." She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "This is your home too."
Something softened briefly in his expression before disappearing again.
"Okay."
Okay.
Why was that okay so attractive?
She hated this.
Deeply.
Passionately.
To avoid further emotional damage, Ivy grabbed her handbag.
"I'm leaving."
"Where are you going?"
"Anywhere."
"That's not a location."
"I'll find one."
"You don't have a plan, do you?"
"..."
"You never have a plan."
"I HAVE VIBES."
"That's worse."
"Vibes have never failed me."
"You accidentally adopted a cat because of vibes."
"I regret nothing."
Mochi meowed from the living room.
A clear sign of support.
Two hours later, Ivy found herself wandering through a local shopping district while Chloe laughed hysterically beside her.
"So let me get this straight."
"Don't."
"Your mother left you alone with Hercules."
"Correct."
"And instead of staying home like a normal person, you fled."
"Also correct."
"Without a destination."
"I had a destination."
"What was it?"
"...Away."
Chloe nearly walked into a streetlamp.
"I can't do this anymore."
"I've been saying that for years."
The afternoon passed with shopping, coffee, and Ivy aggressively refusing to think about Asher.
Unfortunately, the universe appeared committed to her downfall.
Because at four o'clock, it started raining.
Not normal rain.
Movie rain.
The dramatic kind.
The kind that made umbrellas completely useless.
"Oh, that's unfortunate," Chloe said.
"Why are you smiling?"
"No reason."
"You look suspicious."
"Nope."
Thunder cracked overhead.
And at that exact moment, Ivy remembered one tiny detail.
She had left her umbrella at home.
Along with her charger.
And her wallet.
And her dignity.
Mostly her dignity.
Twenty minutes later, she stood beneath a small bookstore awning while rain poured relentlessly from the sky.
Her phone battery flashed red.
1%.
"Perfect."
A text arrived.
ASher: Where are you?
Ivy stared.
Then ignored it.
Another message appeared.
ASHER: Your phone is almost dead.
She frowned.
How did he—
A third message.
ASHER: Chloe posted a photo.
Traitor.
Immediately.
Public execution.
The battery dropped to 0%.
The screen went black.
"Wonderful."
The rain somehow intensified.
Of course it did.
She was contemplating whether she could survive by becoming a permanent bookstore resident when a familiar black SUV slowly pulled up to the curb.
The passenger window rolled down.
Asher sat behind the wheel.
Rain drummed softly against the roof.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then...
"Get in."
"No."
"You're soaked."
"I've accepted my fate."
"You look cold."
"I've embraced nature."
"You have goosebumps."
"They're decorative."
The corner of his mouth twitched.
"Get in the car, Ivy."
"No."
"Why?"
Because sitting alone with him in a car felt significantly more dangerous than pneumonia.
She couldn't exactly say that.
Instead, she crossed her arms.
"I don't need rescuing."
His gaze dropped briefly to her completely drenched clothes.
"That's unfortunate."
"Why?"
"Because I'm rescuing you anyway."
Before she could argue, he stepped out into the rain.
Without an umbrella.
Without hesitation.
Without caring that he was instantly soaked.
He walked around the vehicle and opened the passenger door.
Then simply waited.
Not pushing.
Not teasing.
Just waiting.
Rainwater slid down his dark hair.
His T-shirt clung to his shoulders.
The same stubborn man.
The same ridiculous man.
The same man who used to drive across town at midnight because she once mentioned craving milkshakes.
Ivy looked away first.
"You're annoying."
"I know."
"Unnecessarily nice."
"I've heard that before."
"You should stop."
"No."
The answer came so quickly she almost laughed.
Instead, she climbed into the car.
The moment the door shut, warmth surrounded her.
Outside, the rain continued falling.
Inside, neither knew what to say.
For several blocks, only the sound of windshield wipers filled the silence.
Then Asher reached into the back seat.
Without looking at her, he handed over a folded towel.
Pink.
Covered in tiny cartoon strawberries.
Ivy stared.
"...What is this?"
"You hate plain towels."
"..."
"You remembered that?"
His attention remained on the road.
"Yeah."
Just one word.
Simple.
Casual.
As though remembering every little thing about her was the easiest thing in the world.
Ivy looked down at the ridiculous strawberry towel resting in her lap.
And for the first time that day, avoiding Asher didn't feel impossible.
It felt pointless.
Which was somehow much, much worse.
- Writer
