All The Truths - Rina Kent Page 0,65
to be in.
I reach for the remote to turn off the TV then a large presence appears in my peripheral vision. I gasp, the remote falling from my fingers and clattering to the ground.
Asher stands at the entrance of the bedroom, only wearing boxer briefs. He’s still staring at the blank screen like I was a few seconds ago.
From his blank expression, it seems he watched it—or at least most of it. He continues focusing on the TV as if Arianna is still there, saying she never cared for us, saying her brother who sacrificed his youth for her happiness and matured early to become her parent and her support was easy to fool, saying all she cared about was destroying him.
God, he’s not reacting—not at all.
It’s even scarier than if he trashed the place.
Even his hands fall on either side of him like lifeless body parts. There’s no clenching of his fists or ticking of his jaw.
He’s gone numb.
No, I won’t let her take him away from me. Not again.
Arianna won’t peek her head out from the grave to ruin our lives once more. She succeeded in the past, but that won’t be happening again.
I stagger on unsteady feet and tiptoe toward him as if afraid he’ll snap any second. He doesn’t move, not even when I stand in front of him, my toes almost touching his.
“Ash…” I coax.
No answer.
I take his hand in mine. It’s heavy and unmoving and…cold. So damn cold.
“Ash, look at me.”
His gaze strays from the TV to mine. There’s so much pain in there, so many years lost on hate, revenge, violence.
So much missed time.
“It wasn’t your fault.” My voice is emotional despite my attempt to speak in a neutral tone. “It wasn’t our fault. We just loved her too much to notice it.”
He says nothing, but his jaw tightens so hard I’m scared something will happen to him.
What if I lose him?
What if she succeeded and this is the end?
What if—
“I’m so sorry.” His voice is barely above a murmur.
My brows furrow. “What?”
His arms wrap around me in a tight hug that nearly cuts off my breath. “I’m so fucking sorry, Reina.”
If possible, his hug tightens more around me. It says so much more than his words are telling me. It says how much he regrets the past, how much he wished to never let me go.
So I hug him back because I have those same regrets.
We lost so much time. We floundered and drowned and couldn’t come up for air for so long.
All that pain fades away now, almost as if it were never there.
I let him carry me back to bed. We don’t speak after that.
We just watch each other, limbs wrapped around one another as we fall asleep.
We’re both wounded and need to recuperate.
A nightmare startles me awake. There were harsh blue-green eyes laughing at me, mocking me, telling me I could never escape my fate.
A tear slides down my cheek as I open my lids. A thumb wipes the tear away.
Those dark green eyes collide with mine as he slowly wipes the tear. His hand doesn’t leave my face even after all the tears are gone. His strong hand cradles my cheek as he watches me intently as if I’ll turn into smoke and mirrors.
It’s late, like two or three in the morning late, but it seems like he slept too little, if he slept at all.
Seeing him in so much pain and not being able to talk about it kills me slowly. Asher has always been the silent type who directed his pain inside instead of purging it, and that killed him, slowly but surely.
I can’t have him keep all of it in, not after what all we’ve both been through.
“Trouble sleeping,” I murmur as if a louder voice will lift the cloak surrounding us.
“I can’t get her voice or face out of my head.” His words are low and filled with so much pain, they gut me. “I can’t believe that’s my baby sister, the same Ari I sacrificed so much for. I should’ve seen the signs, or stopped and questioned when I saw those fucking signs.”
“Hey.” I snake my palm up his naked chest and rest it against his calm heartbeat, his almost dead pulse. “We couldn’t have known, she was too strategic about it, and we were too young and with too many communication issues.”
“Communication issues she fed on and used against us.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately?” His voice rises a little. “I think this calls for a stronger