Chapter 149
Ivy’s POV
The steam still clung to my skin as I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around myself. The bathroom mirror was fogged over, the edges beginning to clear just enough to reflect a blurred version of me. t reached out, dragging my fingers across the glass, watching as my reflection sharpened. My hair dripped down my back, water trailing over my bare shoulders, but I didn’t move to dry it.
I just stood there, staring at myself.
My eyes looked hollow, the dark circles beneath them more pronounced than usual. Hooked tired. I felt tired.
My chest ached with the weight of everything, pressing down on me like something physical, something heavy. Marcus was gone. Asher was slipping away. And I didn’t know how to stop any of it.
I turned away from the mirror, walking slowly back into the bedroom. The sheets on the bed were untouched, the pillows still fluffed, undisturbed. i had barely slept the past few nights, and it wasn’t just because of Marcus. It was Asher.
He hadn’t been back to our room since the moment we got the news.
When Marcus was in a coma, Asher had barely held it together. He was restless, pacing, desperate for anything that resembled hope. He barely slept, barely ate, barely spoke. And then, when Marcus was gone, it was like something inside him shattered. He didn’t even try to hold on.
And now, he was just… gone.
Not physically, he was still here, somewhere, in this house, but not with me.
I sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the towel a little tighter around myself. The silence was suffocating. I had gotten used to his presence, the way he filled a space without even trying. Now, it felt empty, cold.
I wanted to help him.
I wanted to be there for him the way he had always been there for me. But he wouldn’t let me.
Every time I tried to reach for him, he pulled away. And I couldn’t even blame him for it.
I ran a hand through my damp hair, staring at the phone sitting on the nightstand. My fingers hovered over it for a second before I picked it up and dialed his number.
It rang once. Then twice. Then,
Voicemail.
swallowed the lump in my throat, lowering the phone slowly.
I shouldn’t be surprised. He had been avoiding me, shutting me out, burying himself in his grief like it was the only thing keeping him breathing. Maybe it
was.
But what about me?
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, I wasn’t going to make this about me. I wasn’t.
I had no right to complain.
Not when he had just lost his brother.
Not when he was drowning in pain that I couldn’t reach.
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Chapter 149
I exhaled, setting the phone back down.
I would wait.
I wouldn’t sleep. I wouldn’t turn off the lights. I wouldn’t let this become another night where he shut me out completely.
I would wait for him to come back..
Even if i wasn’t sure he ever would.
I changed into a pair of sweatpants and a loose T–shirt, pulling my hair into a messy bun. The air in the room felt stale, too still, I walked over to the window, pushing it open, letting the cool night breeze slip in. The curtains billowed slightly, the fresh air filling the space, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest.
I leaned against the window frame, staring out into the dark.
The house felt different without Marcus.
It wasn’t just the grief that hung over all of us like a storm cloud–it was his absence. His presence had been larger than life, and now that he was gone, it felt like the entire world had shifted.
And Asher…
I had never seen him like this before.
I had seen him angry, reckless, stubborn. I had seen him push people away, act like he didn’t care when he did, act like he was fine when he wasn’t. But this?
This was different.
This was Asher breaking.
And the worst part was, I didn’t know how to fix it.
I let my head rest against the window, closing my eyes.
I wanted to give him space. I wanted to be patient. But how long was I supposed to wait? How long was I supposed to sit here, alone, wondering if he would ever let me back in?
I knew grief wasn’t simple. I knew everyone dealt with it differently. But it hurt–standing on the outside, watching him disappear into it.
I bit my lip, glancing back at my phone.
I could try calling him again.
But if he didn’t answer the first time, why would he answer now?
I sighed, walking back to the bed. I climbed under the covers, pulling them up to my chin, but sleep felt like an impossible thing. My mind wouldn’t stop, my heart wouldn’t settle.
Where was he?
What was he doing?
Did he even realize how much I missed him?
I curled into myself, staring at the ceiling.
I hated this.
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Chapter 149
I hated feeling useless.
I hated that he wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t let me in. I hated that I didn’t know if he would ever come back to me.
I wanted to believe he would.
But the truth was, I didn’t know.
I didn’t know if he would ever be the same.
And I didn’t know if we would survive this.
The night dragged on. Minutes felt like hours, stretching endlessly in the quiet. My eyes burned, my body refused to sleep.
I kept the lamp on. I left the door unlocked. I stayed curled up on my side, waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting.
Until finally, I heard it.
Footsteps.
Soft, hesitant.
My heart stuttered. I sat up slowly, barely breathing.
ashed, exhaustion settling into my bones, but I
The door creaked open, just enough for me to see him standing there, silhouetted against the dim light from the hallway.
My chest tightened.
“Asher,” I whispered.
He didn’t move, didn’t speak.
I couldn’t see his face clearly, but I didn’t need to. I could feel it–his exhaustion, his grief, the weight of everything pressing down on him.
I swallowed. “Come here.”
For a moment, I thought he was going to leave.
But then, slowly, he stepped inside.
He shut the door behind him, hesitated, then walked toward the bed. He sat down on the edge, his shoulders slumped, his hands hanging loosely between his knees.
I reached for him, resting my hand on his back.
He was tense.
Tired.
A mess of emotions he couldn’t even begin to sort through.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he said quietly.
I closed
my eyes. “You don’t have to figure it out alone.”
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Chapter 149
He exhaled, the sound heavy and broken.
I moved closer, slipping my arms around him. He didn’t resist. He let me hold him, let me press my forehead against his shoulder, bet ren feat the sinus, unsteady rhythm of his breathing.
“I don’t want to lose you too,” I whispered.
He was quiet for a long time.
Then, finally, barely audible,
“You won’t.”
1 held on tighter.
And for the first time since Marcus died, I let myself believe it.
AD
