Page 37 of The Last Time

My siblings watch me begin to pace around the kitchen. I’m brought back to that night when I found out about my secret, and my life changed. I became this hard, cynical man that I am today. Instead of saying anything, my family knows to keep quiet and let me be. The anger settles after a while, and I’m able to make it through dinner without any more conversations about me and my personal life.

Once they are gone and Brie is asleep, I decide to text Charlotte to see how she’s feeling.

Three hours later, I’m lying in bed, having a hard time falling asleep. She never texted me back, and my brain is producing all of these things that could be wrong.

What if she had a seizure from too high of a temperature? And I’m the asshole who left her alone in that condition. It would be my fault.

The rest of the night, I spend tossing and turning, hardly getting any sleep.

Chapter Eleven

Charlotte

Idon’twanttoget up and go to the bathroom. I’ve been lying in bed for hours, trying to ignore it, desperately trying to fall back asleep. My body aches and I’m alternating between being extremely hot or miserably cold.

Finally, accepting defeat, I throw the comforter off myself and go to the bathroom.

I’m back in bed within minutes, bundled up in my blanket. I can’t believe this is happening. I don’t even know where I could’ve picked this up. I barely go anywhere.

Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I just feel horrible that Asher came over yesterday and worked on the deck all by himself.

To top it off, he took care of me. I’m not sure if it was real or if I dreamt it, but I think he kissed my forehead. Maybe my temperature made me hallucinate.

A noise from downstairs grabs my attention. I grip my comforter that’s bundled around me.

Was that the door opening? Is someone in my house?

There’s no way. I’m definitely hallucinating from this damn fever. Then, the distinct sound of the front door shutting echoes from downstairs.

Okay, that was definitely the door.

In a panic, I try to decide what to do. I desperately search for my phone when I hear the footsteps coming up the stairs.

Holy shit. I’m about to die! I can’t believe this is how I go out. In bed with a fever, never married, never able to become a mother. All the things I’ve never done in my life begin to flash before my eyes.

I never got to have my favorite hazelnut ice cream again since I’ve been back in Isle of Hope.

What a stupid thing to think when I’m about to die!

The footsteps are loud and quick, like whoever this is knows exactly where I am. This is a planned attack! Who do I know that wants me dead that bad?

I’m about to beg for mercy when Asher appears in the doorframe.

He looks angry and appears to be out of breath.

“Asher?” I ask in confusion.

He strides into my room. “You didn’t answer my texts.”

I push off my hands to lift myself up slightly higher.

“You texted me?”

He takes a seat on my bed like he’s done it a million times, like his presence in my house, walking in without knocking, is completely normal.

“Like fifteen times. It’s been twelve hours. I thought you were dead,” he says while he reaches for my forehead. “You’re still burning up.”

I find myself leaning into his touch. His hand feels so good against my skin. It feels comforting.

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