“It went bad, Asa,” she said, voice thick and trembling slightly. “It was horrible. I hated it. Is that what you wanted to hear me say?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he told her, feeling the spark of frustration grow into a fire inside him. “I was so worried for you because I knew how Hunter made you feel at school. And knowing you were about to be sitting at a table with a whole family made up of people like him was driving me out of my mind. Because all that kept running through my head was me being safe at home while you were out there all alone—”
“I wasn’t alone,” Carmen said softly, running her thumb against the back of his palm in a comforting gesture. “I wasn’t alone, Asa. You had nothing to worry about, okay? I’m sorry if I scared you or—”
“I don’t want you to be sorry, Carmen!” Asa snapped, losing his composure, and he watched her flinch, surprise flickering in her eyes at his outburst. “I want you to understand where I’m coming from. Because all I wanted to do last night was wrap you in my arms and never let go. And when I finally do make it here the first thing after breakfast, I find that son of a—” Asa stopped his rant, grinding his teeth together and looking away with an unmistakeable glint of anger in his eyes.
“Is that what this is about?” Carmen mumbled. “Hunter?”
Asa let out a hollow laugh, noticing Carmen wince at the coldness in it. “I’m going to take a few wild guesses here, Carmen, so correct me if I’m wrong, all right?” He whipped his head towards her, mouth set in a grimace. “It was too early for Hunter to be paying you a visit, although why he’d even visit is beyond me. And then there were his clothes which looked wrinkled as heck. My conclusion? He slept in them. See, now all that I can think of is the fact that he stayed over. Am I getting anywhere? Or is my theory just batshit crazy?”
Carmen didn’t say anything at first and just watched him silently.
“Yes,” she finally said. “He stayed over last night.”
“And he was here because he came back with you from the dinner?”
“Yes,” she answered, eyes guarded as they observed Asa.
“So that’s why you don’t want to talk about last night with me?” Asa asked, unable to help the hurt from seeping into his voice. “Because you’d already talked it out with him? Because he was there for you?”
“Asa.” Carmen swallowed, her grip on his hands tightening. “Please. You need to understand. It was too late to call you or—”
“Bullshit,” he cut her off, anger and hurt dissolving into one and spreading throughout his body like wildfire. “I would have been there for you regardless of what time it was, you know that. I’d have run out of the house, jumped into my goddamn truck and made my way to you within a heartbeat. You know that, Carmen.”
He searched her face, her eyes for anything—anything at all. Some sort of clue, something that would give him an inkling of what was going through her mind right then. That goddamn beautiful masterpiece of a mind he’d fallen head over heels for, but a mind that he was beginning to realise he didn’t really know all that well.
And that terrified Asa. Because he’d given her every single inch of him, but she’d only ever allowed him a few stolen glances into her being.
There were times—rare, oddly intimate moments—where Asa found himself comparing Carmen’s existence to that of the moon, the way she was a beacon of light in all the dark places.
And it was ironic, really, that he’d never considered her to be a crescent, just that tiny sliver of her entirety, allowing only a fraction of her to be seen.
They’d been in pure bliss, tucked away in their own little world where they could pepper kisses on each other’s skin while they giggled with the euphoria of young love, where they could talk about binary pairs and how they would have each other no matter what.
But that was a sugar-coated world, tied up in a pretty little bow and now reality was crashing down on them—on him—and Asa was flailing around with no sense of direction.
Another heartstring yanked out.
“Asa.” Carmen broke the silence, her voice shaking now. “Just... Just listen, okay?”
Again, Asa laughed, no traces of humour whatsoever. “I’m always listening, Carmen,” he murmured, pulling his hands away from her grasp. “You just never do the talking.”
“I need him,” she whispered, as if scared to tell Asa that.
“And I need you,” he simply said.
“Okay, okay,” Carmen breathed out, relief evident in her tone and in the smile growing on her face. “That’s good. Because you do have me, okay? You do. Making place for Hunter in my life doesn’t take away the room for you.”
“See, that’s where I’m having trouble understanding things, Carmen.” Asa threw his hands in the air, rising up from his chair and kicking it back. “When did Hunter even come into this? Into us?”
“He doesn’t have to come between us, Asa!” Carmen stood up, too, shooting Asa a look of anguish. “He doesn’t have—”
“Let me ask you something, Carmen. What do you see when it comes to me? What comes to your mind when you think of us? Where do you think we’re going with this?”
“Forever,” the word spilled out of Carmen’s mouth, a freight train with no brakes. Asa noticed the surprise cross her face before she relaxed, as if accepting it. “Forever, Asa,” she told him softly. “That’s all I see with you and I. You can call me crazy if you want.
