Love Me Like You Won't Let Go

by Toppen, Melissa

  His hold on me loosens seconds before his hands slide to my cheeks and he guides my face upward.

  “Tell me what I can do to make this right, B. Tell me what I can do and I swear to god I’ll do it.”

  “There’s nothing you can do.” I blink through my blurred vision, trying to reel in my emotion. “It’s too late.”

  “I refuse to believe that. You are the only thing in this world that has ever felt right to me. I can’t accept that this is how it ends.”

  “I don’t know what you expect me to do, Asher? I moved on. I’m getting married in three weeks.” I pull his hands from my face and take a full step back.

  “He won’t be able to make you happy.”

  “How do you know? You don’t know anything about him.”

  “It’s supposed to be you and me. Not you and him.”

  “Well, things change. Life doesn’t always work out the way you plan for it to.”

  “So what? You’re just going to pretend like what we have isn’t there anymore? I know you feel it too, Blakely. You’ve always felt it.” He slides his hand into the back of my hair and dips his face down to mine. “Tell me you love me. Tell me you’re not ready to let go of this yet.”

  “I let go of this and you a long time ago,” I say, pulling his hand away before taking a full step back. “If my forgiveness is what you’re looking for, then you have it. You’re forgiven. But that’s all I can give you, Asher.”

  “You’re scared.” He reaches for me but I step out of his grasp.

  “I’m not scared. Not anymore. I love Tyler. He makes me happy and I know we’re going to have a wonderful life together.”

  “And yet you can’t help but wonder what it would be like if you ended up with me and not him.”

  “Asher.”

  “Admit it. You’ve thought about it.”

  “Of course I have. I loved you for over half my life. A part of me will always wonder what could have been, but that doesn’t change my mind.”

  “Loved. Even now you won’t let yourself see it.”

  “See what?”

  “That you still love me just as much as I love you. No amount of time or distance could ever change what we have, B. We’re rooted into each other’s lives too deeply.”

  “You can tell yourself whatever you need to but it doesn’t make it true.”

  “See, even now all you can do is divert. At least when you were shoving and hitting me I knew what you were saying was true.” He grabs my hand and pulls me back toward him. Even though I struggle against him, the instant his chest presses against mine, there’s nowhere else I want to be. “You say you love Tyler and that may be true, but you’re lying to yourself if you think he’s anything more than your second choice.”

  “Asher,” I start when once again his hand slides into my hair, the way he always used to do right before he’d kiss me. I hold my breath, trying to anticipate his next move. At this point I’d be just as likely to kiss him back as I would be to slap him if he attempted it. My emotions are all over the place and I’m not even sure I know which way is up.

  “All I want is a chance, B. No matter how slim. I want to know that there’s a chance.”

  “I can’t give you that.”

  “No, but you can let me try.”

  “Try to do what?”

  “Let me try to remind you what it was like.”

  “Asher.” I pull my face back, trying to put some distance between us.

  “I’m not going to kiss you, B. Not unless you ask me to.” He grins, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Let me be your friend again.”

  “What?” I rear back, confused by his sudden shift.

  “We were friends before we were anything else. Remember?”

  “First you’re professing your love, now you want to be my friend?”

  “Who says we can’t get back there again? Maybe friendship is where we need to start.”

  “It’s not that simple anymore.”

  “But maybe it can be.”

  “What game are you trying to play?” I step back and this time he lets me go.

  “No games. I want you in my life, Blakely. Anyway I can get you.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I shake my head.

  Truthfully, I don’t think I am capable of just being his friend. It would only be a matter of time before I’d want more. Hell, I want more right now. But something tells me he already knows this.

  “I won’t take no for an answer. You not being in my life isn’t an option. I know I hurt you. And I will spend the rest of my life regretting that I did. But I don’t regret leaving. Staying here would have killed me, B. I had to get out. I had to see that there was more. More than death and loss. More than this small town.” He gestures around us.

  “More than me?” I question weakly.

  “There isn’t more than you out there. I knew that before I left.”

  “And yet you still left.”

  “But not because of you.”

  “And that’s supposed to make it okay?”

  “I know that nothing I say can make me leaving okay. But I did what I felt like I needed to do. I felt like I couldn’t breathe here. I felt like I was suffocating.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was? I could have helped you.”

  “That’s just it. You couldn’t have. No one could. It wasn’t about you or what you could or couldn’t do. It was something I had to figure out on my own.”

  “And did you? Figure it out I mean.”

  “I did.” He lets out a slow breath. “Look, I can’t change the past. No matter how much I wish I could. It broke me to leave you, but not leaving would have been even worse. I’m not asking for you to forget what I did. I’m asking you to remember who we used to be and give us a chance to be that again.”

  “As friends?”

  “Like I said, I’ll take you anyway I can get you.”

  “Do you really think we’re capable of being just friends? There is so much history here.”

  “I’m willing to try if you are.”

  “I don’t know.” I shift my weight from one foot to the other.

  “Well there’s only one way to find out.” He smiles, extending his hand to me.

  I look at it for a long moment before finally reaching out and taking it, letting him lead me back to the car.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Blakely

  We spend the next hour driving the back roads of West Virginia with no real destination. We don’t talk much. Instead, we enjoy the warm summer air with the windows down, Mumford and Sons playing quietly in the background.

  When Asher pulls up outside of my parents’ house just after six, the last thing I want to do is get out of the car. I know it’s a wrong thought to have. I should want to run as far away from him as quickly as I can but that simply isn’t the case.

  Being with him like this reminds me of all the times we spent together when we were younger. The carefree summer days when everything felt right. I have to continue to remind myself that we’re not those kids anymore. That life has taken us so far from that point.

  I reach for the door handle, my hand hovering over it for a long moment before I turn back toward Asher.

  “Thank you for today,” I say, the words barely making it past my lips.

  “I’ve missed this.” He reaches for my hand, wrapping his fingers tightly around it.

  “Me too,” I admit truthfully. “I should go.”

  “Tell your mom and dad I say hello.”

  “Why don’t you tell them yourself?” I suggest, not even thinking about it. “I’m sure they’d love to see you. Why don’t you come in and have dinner with us?”

  “You sure?” He cocks a brow. “What about your fiancé?” He frowns around the word.

  “He’s at a work function so he won’t be here. Besides, we’re friends, right? And it’s perfectly acceptable for friends to have dinner together.”

  “Right.” He no
ds slowly, believing the statement about as much as I do.

  I don’t know what I’m doing. I know inviting him in is a bad idea, but the thought of watching him drive away right now is almost crippling. Guilt swirls in my stomach.

  “Mom’s making pot roast.” I smile.

  “Like I can say no to that,” he concedes, killing the engine. “You sure they won’t mind if I join?” he asks, following me out of the car.

  “Are you kidding? The more people my mom can feed the happier she is.”

  He chuckles lightly, following me up the stone path to my parents’ front porch.

  “Feels like it was just yesterday,” he murmurs to himself, looking up at the two story craftsman.

  Deciding not to comment, I gently rap on my parents’ front door before pushing my way inside, Asher following directly behind me.

  “Mom. Dad,” I holler, making my way through the foyer and down the hall where the kitchen sits at the back of the house.

  Dad is sitting at the table, a newspaper in his hand. I swear he’s one of the only people I know that still reads an actual newspaper. He glances up when he hears us enter, his gaze instantly going to Asher right behind me.

  “Asher Evans.” He smiles, setting the newspaper on the table as he climbs to his feet.

  My mom turns from the stove just in time to see the two men shake hands. Her gaze slides to mine, a questioning look on her face.

  I shrug and smile, making my way toward her.

  “It smells incredible,” I tell her, looking over the glass dish she just pulled from the oven. “I’ll explain later,” I whisper, before quickly adding, “Anything I can help with?”

  “You could set the table,” she tells me, wiping her hands on a dish towel before turning toward Asher who is still exchanging pleasantries with my father. “How are you, dear?” she asks, crossing toward him. She pulls him into a brief hug, saying something that only he can hear. He pulls back and smiles that brilliant smile of his and I sway slightly where I stand.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Leslie,” he tells her, throwing me a small grin before turning his attention back to her. “I hope it’s okay that I’m here. Blakely said you were making your famous pot roast and I couldn’t resist.”

  “You are always welcome here. You know that.” She pats his cheek gently, like she used to do when he was a child, before turning back toward me. “Plates.” She points to the cabinet behind me.

  “Oh, right.” I shake off the fog that’s settled around me and quickly turn to retrieve the items needed to set the table.

  Asher slides down into the same chair he always occupied anytime he would come to dinner. It’s like a blast from the past seeing him sitting there. It’s something I honestly never thought would happen again.

  I set the dishes out while my mom transfers the pot roast onto a platter before depositing it onto the center of the table. My mother always makes dinner a formal event, even when it’s just her and my father. If it were me, I’d serve it right out of the pan and probably use paper plates.

  After handing Asher and my dad each a bottle of beer, she pours two glasses of white wine, one for me and one for herself, before taking her seat at the table.

  “So, Asher, are you planning on staying in town for a while?” my dad asks as he forks pot roast onto his plate.

  “That’s the plan.” Asher nods, his gaze sliding to me for a brief moment.

  “Have you given any thought as to what you’re planning to do?” he asks, passing the platter of food toward Asher. “Any job prospects lined up?”

  “Not yet. I’ve actually been looking into buying Ray’s on the edge of town,” he says, causing me to suck my drink of wine back too quickly. I cough and sputter for a moment, trying to clear my throat.

  “Oh yeah, the old bar and grill?” my dad continues, either not noticing my reaction or not caring to acknowledge it.

  “I’m not sure if you knew this or not, but it was my father’s favorite restaurant. I didn’t realize it had closed down until last week when I stopped by to grab a bite to eat. I saw they had the building for sale. It’s just an idea I’m tossing around.”

  “Well I think that’s wonderful,” my mom chimes in. “Ray’s is a landmark. Been a part of this community for years. It was a shame that his son didn’t care enough to keep it running after he passed.”

  “I didn’t know,” Asher starts.

  “Three years ago. Heart attack.” My mom frowns. “Came out of nowhere.”

  “That’s awful.” Asher shakes his head, forking some food onto his plate before passing the platter to my mom.

  “Just goes to show how short life can be,” she continues, sliding some potatoes onto her plate. “You can’t take a single moment for granted.”

  “No, you certainly cannot,” Asher agrees, his gaze once again coming back to me.

  Given the butterflies flapping wildly in my stomach, it’s a wonder I’m able to sit still.

  It’s weird to hear about his plans. I never thought to ask him. I’d assumed he would leave once the wedding happens, and he comes to terms that there is no future for us, but it sounds like he’s planning on sticking around. Truthfully, I’m not sure how I feel about this news.

  On one hand, I want to do cartwheels and jump up and down in celebration. On the other, I feel the exact opposite. I can’t imagine seeing him every day for the rest of my life. A life which I’m choosing to spend with another man. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll eventually get used to him being back or if it will always feel like this on some level.

  “So you’ve been staying at the motel, haven’t you?” my mom asks, passing the platter to me. Not that it matters – my appetite is now non-existent. I’m too twisted up to be able to stomach food. Even still, I slide a little onto my plate before returning the platter to the center of the table.

  “Yes. It’s only temporary,” Asher tells her. “I had originally looked into getting my dad’s old place back, but I learned a young family has recently bought the place. I’m kind of glad they did. I’m not sure it would have felt right being there without him.” He takes a drink of his beer before continuing, “I visited Trisha over at the real estate agency yesterday. She’s going to pull a few listings for me and hopefully we’ll be able to find something that’s a good fit.”

  “So you’re staying either way,” my mom states. She doesn’t explain what the ‘either way’ is, but she doesn’t have to. She might as well have just said, you’re staying regardless if Blakely marries another man.

  I hadn’t really considered that would be the case. But again, it’s not something I thought to ask him either. I just assumed...

  “I am,” he confirms, not once looking in my direction.

  “Well, I for one am glad you’re home,” my dad interjects. “I missed having someone to talk sports with.”

  “You talk sports with me all the time,” I object.

  “Let me rephrase that – I’ve missed having someone to talk sports with who actually understands what I’m talking about and doesn’t tune me out after two minutes.” He chuckles.

  “Give me a little credit.” I give my father the stink eye. “I usually last at least five minutes.”

  “Like that’s any better.” He smiles, reaching over to pat my hand. “You know I love you, honey.”

  I stick my tongue out at him playfully, knowing he means no offense by it. Asher is the closest thing my dad ever had to a son. I know for a fact I wasn’t the only one who felt his absence after he left. My parents were just as used to having him around as I was.

  We fall into easy conversation after that. At certain points I even find myself forgetting that so much time has passed since the last time we were all together. It feels so natural. Many times I remind myself that no matter how right it feels, it isn’t real. Not really. Because while it’s easy to pretend, it doesn’t change the reality of our situation.

  After dinner, Asher joins my father on the back porch for another b
eer while I stay behind to help my mom clean up.

  “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on or are you going to leave me standing here wondering all night?” She waits until the boys are out of earshot before saying what I’m sure she’s been dying to say all night.

  “Nothing’s going on. We’ve agreed to try to be friends.”

  “And that’s it?” She eyes me curiously.

  “Mom, we’ve been through this. I’m with Tyler. I’ll tell you the same thing I told Asher. Him being back doesn’t change that. But you were right about one thing, I need to make peace with what happened between us if I ever hope to be happy with Ty. So that’s what I’m trying to do.”

  “He still loves you,” she tells me, handing me a dish to dry.

  “Mom.”

  “I’m simply making an observation,” she cuts in.

  “Well, it doesn’t really matter how he feels.” I finish drying the plate in my hands before stacking it on the counter.

  “Doesn’t it?”

  “No. I know you and Dad love Asher, but it’s not going to happen.”

  “For the record, we’re quite fond of Tyler too,” she adds softly.

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, okay?” I let out a long sigh. “I just want to continue on with my normal life. Asher’s back now and I have to adjust a little, but nothing has really changed. Can we leave it at that?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make this harder on you. It’s just, seeing you two tonight.” She pauses. “It almost feels like he never left.”

  “I know.” I can’t help but agree.

  “Let me just say this and I won’t mention another word on the subject. I love you no matter what you do.” She stops, shifting her body inward to face me. “If Tyler’s who you want to spend your life with then I’m behind you one hundred percent. But if you decide that maybe he’s not your future, I’ll support that as well. I just want you to be happy.”