The Space Between Us(102)

Forgive him. Tell him. Let him love you. Let yourself be happy.

There have been two times in my life when Asher Carmichael impressed the shit out of me. The first time, you were fourteen and just started high school. I pulled Asher into my office and we talked about what had happened to you at school, and what he did to protect your honor and reputation. He told me then he loved you and I believed him. I knew at that moment that boy would spend his whole life protecting you, fighting for you, and loving you.

Then, a year later, Asher came to me asking if I would let you date him. Only, he didn’t actually use the word date. I believe his exact words were, “Sir, I’d like permission to start spending the rest of my life with her.” What fifteen-year-old boy says something like to that to a girls’ dad? A brave one.

When you left and he started coming around here, I knew he was hurting and wanted some tangible thing to hold to. He wanted to be near you, to feel you, without hurting you. So I let him be here, but I thought it better to not get involved. Well, that’s the funny thing about death, it makes you reconsider a lot of decisions you’ve made throughout your life. Now, I’ve decided, is the perfect time to get involved.

Promise me you won’t push him away anymore. Reach out to him. Let him help heal you. I know, if you let him in, he’ll spend his whole life making everything right again. He needs healing just as much as you do and you are the only one who can help him with that.

I love you Charlie. I will always love you and you will always have your mother and me watching over you. Don’t grieve my death for too long and please try to find your happiness again. I think it lies in the one person you’ve been trying to push away – yourself.

A lifetime of love will never be enough, but it’s all I have to offer,

Your Father

Papa Bear

I folded the letter back up, making sure the creases were all lined up correctly, not wanting to damage the letter at all. I placed it back in its envelope and moved back over to the bed. I laid down, placing the letter under my pillow, and quietly cried myself to sleep.



Tuesday started with a bouquet of beautiful, pink roses. Bit, Pink roses symbolize grace, joy, and sweetness. All three are synonymous with you, but I picked pink because it reminds me of your lips. Kisses, Asher

Wednesday’s dinner was served with the most perfect violets I’d ever seen. My flower, violets represent loyalty. You will always be confident my loyalty lies with you. Xoxo, Asher

“You’ve got to stop sending me flowers,” I said to him over the phone Wednesday evening.

“You don’t like flowers? What kind of red-blooded, American woman are you?”

“Ha ha. I think the hotel staff thinks I’m some kept woman. The lady at the concierge desk rolls her eyes at me when I walk by. She probably thinks I am some mistress here to see my boyfriend who is cheating on his wife with me.”

“You’ve got quite the imagination,” he said with a chuckle.

“Well, you haven’t seen the looks she gives me.”

“They can’t be that bad. How’s the show coming along? Everything working out the way you want it to?”

“Yes,” I sighed. “The show is pretty much put together. I’ve spent more time drawing than anything else, which is good. But my work is different now. If you put the piece I was working on today next to any of the pieces from the show, you’d think two different people drew them.”

“Do you like the new direction you’re going in?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m really inspired and the drawings are turning out beautiful. They’re just different.”

“Different can be good.” His tone was wistful, as if he meant more than he was saying.

“Yes, it can.” My smile could be heard through my voice and I felt it all over.

Thursday, when I came back to the hotel from the studio, there was a ridiculously large display of long-stem, red roses on the concierge desk. My mouth dropped open and then I rolled my eyes, figuring out exactly what was going on.

“Ma’am,” the woman behind the desk called out to me. “These were delivered with explicit instructions to leave them here for you.”

I scrambled over to the counter and peeked around the roses at her.

“Your admirer is getting bolder,” she said with a sneer.

“Listen, he’s not my admirer. I mean, he admires me, but it’s not like that.”

“It’s none of my business,” she said sharply as she handed me a card.

Red roses symbolize passion and lust. The meaning behind these should be self-explanatory, but if you need clarification, turn the card over.

I cringed, but turned the card over anyway.

You’re naughty, turning the card over and everything. I miss you and I want to be inside of you – desperately. XXX, Asher

Before I could stop myself, I started fanning myself with the card and the bitchy concierge woman narrowed her eyes.

“Do you need help getting your flowers to your room?”

“No. I’ve got it,” I said, grabbing the vase awkwardly and trying to navigate my way through the lobby. I turned around and shouted to the woman, “He’s an old boyfriend. Well, a new boyfriend. He’s not married and I’m not a hussy!” The woman held her hands up as if to indicate she didn’t have anything to say about it. For added flair, I spun around quickly knowing my hair would fan out dramatically. That’ll show her.