Page 41 of Poison's Promise

“Save it, Asher,” she snaps, her eyes flashing with anger and hurt. “This is classic you. Jumping into things without thinking them through. And now look where it’s gotten you.”

“Yeah, well, Tilly is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I say firmly, standing my ground. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her.”

“Good,” she replies, her voice softening slightly. “You should.”

For a moment, we just stare at each other, our past and present colliding in ways neither of us could have anticipated.

My heart pounds in my chest, torn between the memories of what we once had and the reality of what stands before us now.

“Can we... can we just sit down and talk?” I ask, taking a step toward her.

She hesitates, then nods. “Fine. But don’t think for a second that I’m going to let you off easy for not telling me about this.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” I say with a small smile, gesturing toward the couch.

As we sit down, the space between us feeling both vast and intimate, I take a deep breath.

This conversation is far from over, but for now, it’s a start. And maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to navigate the twisted paths our lives have taken.

“Polly,” I start, but she cuts me off with a sharp wave of her hand.

“Don’t, Asher,” she says, her voice trembling with barely contained frustration. “I tried to warn you so many times about what she was doing.”

Her words hit me like a sucker punch. I can see the pain in her eyes, feel the weight of the years between us pressing down on my chest.

“You're right,” I admit quietly. The admission tastes bitter on my tongue. “I didn’t listen. I should have. But, Tilly has made me a better man.”

“Is that supposed to make it better?” she snaps, her tone a mix of anger and something else—something more vulnerable.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s not about making it better. It’s just the truth. Because of her, I’ve grown up. I had to. She’s made me mature in ways I never knew I could.”

Polly’s eyes soften just a fraction as she processes my words.

It’s a small change, but it's there. I can feel the tension between us shifting, evolving into something less volatile but no less charged.

“She’s lucky to have you,” Polly finally says, her voice low. “But it doesn’t change what happened.”

“I know,” I reply, reaching out to touch her hand. She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t lean into the touch either. “I know.”

We sit here, the silence stretching around us like a taut wire, ready to snap at any moment.

My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing the unspoken words hanging in the air.

“Do you ever think about what could’ve been?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“All the time,” she admits, her eyes locking onto mine.

And just like that, the space between us feels smaller, more intimate.

The past is still there, a ghost haunting the edges of our conversation, but for now, there’s a sliver of hope.

CHAPTER TEN

Poison

The glass feels heavy in my hand, condensation dripping onto my fingers as I take another sip of the whiskey.

The smoky warmth burns its way down my throat, settling into a comfortable warmth in my belly.

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