Page 27 of Where the Stars Heal

Mom always told us to be home when the street lights turned on. She said it wasn’t safe to be out after dark, but I always wanted to stay until I could see the stars. I remember how scared Hunter would become when I tried to stay longer because he never wanted to be late.

“Quick, Halle, we have to get back. If we don’t, he’ll yell at us again,”he’d say, always sounding panicked as he dragged me home. It wasn’t until I was much older that I realized it was because he would worry about Ray.I was too little to fully understand how mean Mom’s partner—our stepdad—was at the time, but Hunter knew. He saw everything. He would have been old enough to feel the tension and hear the manipulation, and yet he still left me.

That’s what stings the most. Knowing that, and once he grew up, he still decided to leave me behind, and he never came back. He abandoned me. Left me to fight the darkness on my own.

“Halle.” His voice reaches me from behind, laced with concern.

My heart starts racing, and my palms grow clammy around the chains. He’s here. Why did he follow me?

I keep swinging, hoping to keep the distance between us. He makes me nervous. The way he can see straight through me leaves me unsettled.

“What do you want, Asher?” I ask, sounding stronger than I feel.

I hear his quiet footsteps move closer, causing my nerves to fire off inside me. The swing next to me moves, and I can’t help but glance over. He’s standing there with one knee resting on the seat as he holds both chains and leans forward.

Dragging my feet through the sand, I bring myself to a stop. Heart pounding, I turn and lock eyes with his.

“How’d you know it was me?” he asks curiously as his eyes roam over every inch of me.

God, I’d love to know what he’s thinking right now, what he sees when he looks at me like that. The intensity in those green eyes makes my skin tingle.

“I just knew,” I say with a shrug.

He shifts to sit on the swing, and my heart beats a little faster as we sway together in silence.

I should say something, say thank you, but now we’re alone, I have no idea how to speak to him. Do I just come straight out with it and say, “Thanks for being mean, it helped me.” Do I ask him how his night was first? Or do I apologize for freaking out on him?

I’m overthinking this, I know, but he’s just sitting there, in his black jeans and grey tee. His curls are messy tonight, and that damn lip ring he keeps spinning. How does a girl like me talk to a guy like that?

“You’re worthless, Halle.”

“Nobody will ever look at you like that.”

Whispers of those cruel words yelled at me over the years start to creep through my mind, clawing at the walls I try to keep up to protect myself from them. But the hurt that follows them stings, and no matter how hard I try, I can never fully block them out.

I pull at my shirt nervously, waiting for him to say something. The silence stretches on as the seconds tick by, and the tension in the air grows. The space around us feels thick and heavy. I swear, if I reached out to touch him, electricity would snap between us. I wonder if he feels it, too. I sneak another glance at him and find him staring up at the stars. His jaw is sharp and defined, lips parted as he gets lost in the night sky.

The last time I saw him, his face was smooth, but now there’s a light shadow of stubble, adding a rougher edge to his features. It suits him. My hands itch with the sudden urge to reach out and feel the light scrape of it against my palm. The thought catches me by surprise, and I grip the swing a little tighter.

“I can feel you staring, Halle,” he says quietly, lips tugging into a knowing smile.

Heat creeps into my cheeks as I glance down at my feet, my hair falling over my face to shield me from him.

A moment passes by, and then I feel the warmth of him. His hand gently brushes against my skin as he moves my hair back, tucking it behind my ear. His fingers linger for a second, sending a shiver down my spine. He leans forward, and my heart stops. I suck in a sharp breath, waiting.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice soft. “I should never have said you were too much work, Halle, or made you feel like you were a burden.”

The apology hangs in the air, and I tilt my head to lookat him. I can see in his expression how much he wants me to believe him, and I do.

“I’m sorry, too.” I smile weakly at him as I attempt to gather my thoughts. I need to say it’s okay and that in a way, I’m thankful.

“Why do you always do that?” He leans back into his swing and starts swaying again.

“Do what?” I ask, confused by his question.

“Say sorry?” He looks at me. “You always say sorry when you shouldn’t.”

“I… I don’t know.” My voice comes out raw.

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