Page 68 of Where the Stars Heal

“Asher,” she murmurs weakly, “please don’t leave me.”

Reaching back, I gently take her hands and unwind them from around me, placing them by her sides as I hover over her.

Leaning down, I press my forehead to hers, our breaths mingling together. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I got you.” I promise her.

I change into the pair of sweats I left here the other night and quietly climb in next to her. Settling in, she rolls over, pressing herself against me. Her head rests on my chest, and her leg hooks over mine, holding on to me like I’m her lifeline.

Sighing, my eyes slowly adjust to the darkness of her room. The faint slither of moonlight peeking through her curtain casts a shadow across her walls. My hand trails up and down her back and along her arm. For a moment, we stay like that. I don’t ask questions, I don’t get mad at her. I let her feel. Everything.

It doesn’t take long before her mind and body begin to shut down. Her shoulders start to shake under my hand, and my shirt grows cold and damp, her silent tears soaking into the fabric. I keep tracing aimless patterns along her back, hoping my touch brings her the comfort and safety she needs.

“You’re okay. Let it all out, sweetheart. I won’t let you go,” I tell her.

And she does. Sobs tear through her, each one more painful than the last. She clutches at my shirt and hiccups as she fights to breathe through the storm of emotions consuming her.

Nothing I say or do will help her. She needs to feel this—every tear, every tremor. She needs to have this moment in time to come out stronger. It’s the only way through the pain.

There is no shortcut to grief, no easy way out, no detour around the hurt, no escape from missing them. No way out at all. The only way is forward because the hole they leave behind, it never closes. But we have to keep living, keep smiling for them. If we don’t, their memory will forever live in the darkness of their death, buried beneath the weight of our pain, never to see the light, the joy, the love, or the life they once lived.

Without realizing it, Halle taught me this, taught me how to live with the pain. How to carry it without letting it crush me. She showed me how to keep moving forward while also remembering Aiden and all his good. She has no idea how much she saved me from the depths of my own guilt. Now, watching her fight her own battle, I know she can get through it. I know she’ll rise from this stronger than ever. She’s a survivor.

Her tears and her pain press down on the room, and everything begins to slow. Her hand gradually loosens around my shirt, and her fingers move to wipe at her eyes. The tension that took hold of her body begins to drift away, and I rake my fingers through her hair as she sighs into me.

“She killed herself.”

33

SHE CLAWS AT MY BACK

ASHER

Two hours have slipped by, and Halle’s broken whisper still floats in my mind.“She killed herself.”Before I had a chance to ask, her tears slowed to a stop, and her pulse steadied to a beat that matched mine. She drifted into an uneasy, restless sleep, her body still curled into me.

Her night went from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows in a second. That’s all it took, one second to send the world crashing down on her.

As I look at her, a quiet contentment settles in me. My thumb brushes over her cheek and I know that come morning, she’ll lose her mind when she sees herself in the mirror. Black streaks run down her face, leaving a path where her tears spilled, her red lips now blotchy from the way she bit at them in pain. Her mind will play tricks on her, whispering that she looks like a mess, a trainwreck. But all I see is her, so raw and open. I’ve never found her more beautiful.

There’s an unspoken understanding between us. Our sadness, our grief, the shadows we carry connect us in ways I never thought were possible.

“Asher,” her hand slides up my chest, her fingers curling around my neck as she stirs awake.

“It hurts,” her voice breaks in a whisper, “please, make it not hurt.”

Her breaths start coming in too quick, too frantic, and I grab her leg, hooking it further over me, pulling her up so she’s straddling me. My hands grip her hips, steadying her as the panic threatens to overwhelm her. She peers down at me, her eyes wide and glassy, searching for a way out. Tucking her stray strands of hair behind her ears, I start to breathe deeply. I’ll do anything for her,anythingto make her feel at peace, even if it’s only for a moment.

“With me,” I command, as I suck in a full breath, my chest rising with the motion in exaggeration to show her.

I wait, holding my breath until she follows me, and when she does, we slowly release them together, our breaths meeting in the electric space between us. I watch as she comes back to me, the panic dissolving into the tension-filled air.

“You want me to make you feel good?” I ask her, my voice coming out gruff.

“Please,” she whimpers.

“Take these off.” I tap the side of her leg.

Halle naked is a sight that never leaves my dreams. She moves slowly, hesitantly pushing those curve-hugging jeans down, and I strip my sweats. Reaching for her hand, I guide her back down to me, her knees sinking into the mattress as she hovers over me, her hands resting on my bare chest. The heat of her skin brushes against mine, her breasts full and nipples peaking. My tongue darts out, spinning my lip ring and my cock hardens instantly at how captivating she is.

I tap my chest. “Sit.”

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