The Space Between Us(87)

“Is it still drawing? Or have you branched out and tried new things?”

“Mostly still just drawing. At least, that’s where I spend most of my time.”

“And you can make a good living in the big city? That’s really impressive, Charlie. I’m proud of you.”

I didn’t dare tell him that even though I made decent money selling my drawings, my lifestyle was supported by David, or had been anyway. It was clear that when I got back to New York I was on my own.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll have to look at buying my own place now that I have the money.”

“You don’t like the place you’ve got now?” He asked, innocently, just trying to make conversation. I stilled at his question, trying to find a sufficient answer.

“It’s just not an option any longer,” I stated coolly.

“Well,” he said as he huffed out a breath and stood up from hunching over a box on the floor. I could see his shoulder muscles flexing underneath his tee shirt. “Let me know if you need a hand looking for a place, looking over contracts or whatever. Reeve would probably love to help you look too.” His hands rested on his hips and he looked concerned. “We’re here for you, Charlie.”

And there they were, every day that week. Asher made his daily appearance, each time showing up with a flower that held a particular meaning. After a few days passed the kitchen island was a forest of flowers, all fragrant, all meant to convey something different, a message from Asher to me.

Forget Me Nots because he said he wanted me to always remember him.

Geraniums which were a symbol of true friendship.

Tall reeds of blue salvia tied together with twine, because “I’m always thinking of you,” he said. The next day a bundle of red salvia because “You’ll always be mine.”

“Asher, you have to stop bringing these flowers.” At first it was nice – comforting. The flowers representing friendship, flowers that let me know he thought about me. I could handle that. I couldn’t, however, handle the flowers that held deeper meanings, flowers that were meant to make me feel things again. I stood at the island in the kitchen, breathing in the fragrance of all the different flowers, urging him to stop.

“Why?” He said. I could feel him come up behind me, close enough to feel the heat from his chest cradle my back. I felt a tingle on my scalp and knew he was running his fingers through the ends of my hair hanging at my waist. I closed my eyes, guiltily allowing myself to feel my heartbeat race, my pulse quicken at his touch. Over the last few days, I found it more and more difficult to keep my distance, to not let my eyes wander over him, to long for him. I was in dangerous territory and I knew I could just turn around and he’d welcome me into his arms, welcome me home. But I couldn’t. Don’t forget, Charlie. Don’t let yourself forget that girl on top of him, his arm around her.

“What do you want from me?” I whispered. I gasped when I felt one of his hands graze my waist and land on my hip, his whole body shifting closer to me, his breath floating past my ear.

“I just want you to be happy.”

It took all my willpower, but I stepped to the side, out of his grasp and moved to the sink. I washed my hands simply to give myself something to do, something to focus on while I gathered together all the pieces of my soul I felt crumbling around me. Happiness? I gave up on happiness a long time ago. I’d settle for content. In fact, I aimed for content. I didn’t need to be fulfilled. I didn’t need to find joy. I simply needed to exist, to make it from one day to the next, with as little pain as possible. And when Asher touched me it hurt.

“I am happy, Asher.” Lies. “And as soon as we can all get back to our normal lives, the better off we’ll both be.” I tried to sound convincing, I hoped he was taking my words in and listening to me. A few moments passed and then he spoke as if the words he’d just spoken to me never occurred. It was exactly what I wanted, but it killed me a little inside.

“So, you’re planning on leaving the day after tomorrow then? Saturday?”

“Yeah,” I said, staring out the kitchen window, still not ready to turn around and face him. “I think I should be done with the house by tomorrow and I have to get back to New York.”

“Reeve and I were talking and thought it would be fun for all three of us to go out tomorrow night. You know, like a farewell celebration. Who knows when the three of us will be together again?”

Never. We’d never be together again because I never planned on coming back here. I thought about spending an evening with Reeve and Asher. A night out. A distraction. I knew that if I didn’t go, one or both of them would just be at my house anyway.

“Sounds good,” I said as I turned and gave him a smile.

He smiled back, the dimple in his left cheek winking at me, tugging at something buried deep inside. “Great. I can pick you up around seven. Is that ok?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

Asher left an hour or so later, pulling me in for a hug on his way out. Again, I felt him gently finger through my hair, wrapping it around his palm, gliding his hand down to the ends. I didn’t stop him. I let him do it, wanted him to, really. The more times he reached out to touch me the more comfortable it became, the more I longed for it. He stepped away and left, and I breathed a little easier.

Later in the evening Reeve called.