The room was heavy with silence, thick and suffocating as Asher’s gaze bore into mine. The connection between us was palpable, a constant undercurrent of energy that crackled in the air like static before a storm.
His hand was still on my waist, warm and steady, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The words we’d shared, the promises, the touches—it all felt so real, so undeniable. And yet, in the back of my mind, there was this gnawing fear, a voice telling me that maybe we were both too caught up in the moment to truly understand what we were getting ourselves into.
I wasn’t running anymore. I couldn’t. But the path ahead wasn’t clear. I could feel Asher’s uncertainty, too, just beneath the surface of his usual confidence. He had fought this. He had run from it. And
