Page 11 of Devious Delusions

“Is it an anniversary or something?” I whisper with hope that it isn’t.

I have the perfect excuse for forgetting if it is, considering my fucked up head. It doesn’t change the fact that I’d feel like shit when Asher is nothing short of perfect. He holds me all night despite the fact he hates it. He doesn’t argue when the nightmares have taken over and I lash out at him. One of the side effects of the pills is insomnia, and even through those periods he’s there.

The last memory I had of him isn’t real either. It can’t be because he gives me everything, all those thoughts from before are fake and unable to be trusted. But Asher can be.

His voice is soothing, and I lean into it as he smiles. “It’s not an anniversary. I was just thinking about the first time I saw you and I thought you were beautiful then. If someone would have told me that your beauty would only ever increase and I’d have the privilege of witnessing it, I would have thought they were talking shit.”

All of the confusion disappears. Thisismy life. And I’m so immensely grateful to have Asher as a tether to reality. Leaning up on my toes, I press my lips to his. He freezes. I drop down and look away as I mumble, “Sorry.”

Shit. He always kisses my cheek or temple, and he’ll hold me without any second guessing, but that doesn’t mean he wants me to kiss him.

I step back, ready to run and hide from the humiliation. Before I can turn, he tightens his hold on my hip, keeping me in place, and loosely holds my jaw with his knuckles.

“Hey, don’t run from me.” He dips his head. “You’re my wife, remember? That means you stay here, with me, and we talk shit through.”

The maturity floors me and increases the gratitude I have for him. Each day it’s getting easier to understand how I’vemanaged to stay in love with Asher. It’s more potent than what we had as children, and it’s so much sweeter than our teenage years.

He pulls me closer into his chest and leans into me. There’s an inch between our lips and his pupils eat up all the green of his irises as they flit between my eyes. The space isn’t erased by either of us and his voice is deeper, vibrating through his chest into mine.

“Go, get ready. I need to be in public with you, so I don’t fuck this up.”

The rushof excitement I experienced as a teenager is tripled as I remain in the car and Asher opens my door for me. Taking my hand, he helps me out and butterflies take flight at the innocent contact.

He keeps me tucked to his side as we enter the restaurant. It’s midday and the place is quiet. There are a few people sitting at tables spaced enough apart that they won’t disturb each other. But there’s familiarity on the server’s features as she greets us at the door. I have no recollection of this place, despite her offer.

“Your usual table is busy, but if you’re happy to wait it will be free soon.”

I stand numb like I’ve just been dropped into civilization. It’s not far off from the truth when I have no idea how we have a usual table. But Asher says, “It’s fine, we’ll take any table.”

She leads us through, and I lean further into him as I ask, “Do we come here a lot?”

“Don’t think about it,” he answers flippantly, kissing my temple.

I can’t not think about it when there’s someone who clearly knows me, even if it’s only in passing, and I don’t have a reference to any of the shit in my own life. Being inside was easier. I’d got used to the house, but this is only creating a bigger divide.

Asher’s phone rings as we take our seats and I busy myself with the menu as he hesitates taking the call. He doesn’t step away from the table and I can see him watching me as he talks to whoever is on the other end.

“It’s not a good time right now. I’ll be remote until we’re settled after the move.”

I’ve searched through all the documents I could find when the memories are too vivid, and I know that’s a lie. He’s had the house for a year. We’ve clearly lived here for a while if we have a usual table at a restaurant.

The only thing keeping him from his life is me. So, I wait for him to end his excuses and build up a conviction I don’t feel. Once he’s done, I set the menu down and lie. “I’m fine to be on my own. Do you have to go to work?”

He leans back in his seat and watches me. “I don’t have to.”

But he wants to.

I can gather that much from the careful way he answers. It’s ridiculous that I don’t even know what he does. I don’t know anything more than I did when we were teenagers.

The waitress comes back and fills our glasses of water before taking our order. I haven’t even picked anything, but Asher seems to know it by heart as he orders for us both. He hands her the menus and takes my hand across the table as we’re left alone again.

His thoughts mirror mine as he asks, “Do you remember our first date?”

I nod and a slow smile creeps on both of our faces at the nostalgia. Looking around the restaurant, I play “spot thedifference between then and now.” This is essentially the same considering I don’t know who he is anymore.

“Yeah, are your parents going to make a surprise visit again?”

It was cute seeing them have their own date night, huddled together in a corner of the restaurant. But his features darken at the reminder of them. They haven’t visited or called. Neither have my parents. But I thought they were just giving us time to be alone after I upended both of our lives.

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