Page 49 of On One Condition

“He must have seen our texts. He knew everything that had happened that night. About us. Knew what we had planned after . . .”

Our blanket under the stars. How terrified I was, fearing I’d hurt her with it being her first time. The tears swimming in her eyes afterward as she told me she loved me. How we swore we’d find a way to be together soon.

That moment with her is crystal clear, but everything that happened later that night, which has been a blur for so long, slowly comes into focus.

“Wait a minute.” My head spins, and I walk away from her as I try to rationalize the exact opposite of everything I’ve been told. Of the things I thought to be true. Of the truths I’ve believed for years. My stomach turns and my heart races. “He told you I cheated on you and you believed it?”

“I was seventeen and my world had just crashed down around me. I didn’t know what to believe,” she screeches, voice escalating and hands clenching. “What was I to do when an imposing figure like your father shows up and tells my Pop I better stay away from you. That I wasn’t good enough for you, nor would I ever be. That he wouldn’t stand for a girl like me to ruin the bright future he had planned for his perfectly pedigreed son. And then when I stood up to him, when I told him he was crazy, he dropped the second bomb. That you got what you wanted from me and had already moved on with someone else. That’s where you were at that moment.”

“That’s not true, Ash. You have to believe—”

“It doesn’t matter now. It might have back then . . . but it still wouldn’t have lessened the sting of me being a motherless, penniless girl who better stay away from you, or else.” A single tear slides down her cheek and effectively cuts through me too.

Pedigree.

That’s what she was referring to that night at Hank’s.

That’s what has haunted her and what she’s harbored for years—and for good reason.

I hate myself for the tears that spring in her eyes. For the hurt that fills them. For things I don’t even think I can begin to understand yet.

There’s nothing I can do.

There’s nothing I can say.

The man I loved and respected more than anything in the world lied to me. Lied to her.

I stare at Asher and see pieces of the girl I used to love. I also see the hurt my father caused reflected in the eyes of the woman she is now.

Needing to touch her, to soothe her, simply for my own selfish reasons, I step into her, frame her face, and use my thumb to brush the tear away. Her eyelashes flutter at my touch, her breath hitches in response.

“They were lies, Asher. All lies.” My chest hurts and emotion burns in my throat as I pull her against me and wrap my arms around her. “I don’t even know what to say.”

A Sharpe man’s words hurt her before. Humiliated her. I only hope she’ll let another’s words comfort her now.

She doesn’t move at first. She stands frozen as if she’s afraid to touch, afraid to believe me.

Asher was always like that. Physical connection was easy for her. It was the emotional side of her that she held on to. The side she locked away from the world, too afraid to be hurt again, given her mother’s abandonment.

Even I understood that at age eighteen, and I understand it even more now.

At the same time, I hurt for her. I hurt for me. Have I believed a lie from the same man who manipulated her?

I don’t want to believe it to be true.

I don’t want to think my father purposely hurt me like that.

Sometimes people do crazy things to protect the ones they love, son.

Weren’t those his words that night? His explanation for what Pop threatened? Or was it his sick justification for what he was doing?

Nothing makes sense right now.

Fucking nothing.

And just as I acknowledge that thought, Asher finally wraps her arms around me and simply holds on. She fits there perfectly, just like she used to. Just like I remember.

I breathe in everything about her. The warmth of her breath against my chest. The subtle shudder of her shoulders. The coconut scent of her shampoo.