Page 36 of Poison's Promise

“Another round?” Asher’s voice cuts through the din of the bar, bringing me back to the present.

“Why the hell not?” I laugh, leaning against the worn leather booth.

He nods and walks over to the bar.

The night has been perfect—almost like old times, but with an edge of something new, something that really makes me believe we can make this work.

I slide into the booth and quickly check my phone, making sure no one needs me for anything.

Asher returns with two glasses of whiskey, sliding into the seat across from me.

He raises his glass in a silent toast, and I clink mine against his before taking a sip.

The burn is familiar, comforting.

“So,” he starts, his tone shifting to something more serious. “I talked to Rachel.”

My stomach tightens at the mention of her name. “What did she say?”

“She said it looked like you went into the room willingly.” His words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.

I roll my eyes, the bitterness rising up like bile. “Yeah, because the rape kit and everything I had to go through afterward was all made up too.”

“Jesus…” His voice trails off, eyes wide with shock. “I had no idea you went to the police.”

“Why are you so surprised I reported it?” My voice is sharp, cutting through the tension. “I wasn’t going to let the guy get away with it if I could help it.”

“Polly, I didn’t know.” His voice is soft, almost pleading.

“Now you do.” I take another sip of whiskey, letting the warmth wash over me. “It was humiliating, you know? Having to relive every detail, answer every invasive question. But I’d do it again if it meant he faced consequences.”

“You’re stronger than I ever realized,” he says quietly, almost to himself.

“Yeah, well, life has a way of making you tough or breaking you. And I’m not one to break easily.” I lean back, crossing my arms over my chest. “Did you think I was just gonna let it slide?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what I thought.” He runs a hand over his head, looking more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen him.

“Well, now you know,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “And maybe next time, don’t assume the worst about me without hearing my side first.”

“You’re right,” he admits, his gaze locking onto mine. “I’m sorry, babe.”

For the first time in a long while, I feel like we might actually have a chance.

And as we finish our drinks, the weight of the past starts to lift, making room for whatever comes next.

“Ready to get out of here?” he asks, standing up and offering me his hand.

“Yeah,” I say, taking it without hesitation. “Let’s go.”

We leave the bar, stepping out into the cool night air.

The future is uncertain, but for tonight, I’m going to be positive.

The streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement, and the hum of distant traffic fills the silence between us.

Asher’s fingers intertwine with mine, a solid anchor in the shifting landscape of my thoughts.

We walk in silence for a few moments, each step bringing us closer.

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