brother.
Chapter 193: Penny
The table is a battlefield.
dis
Not in the dramatic, knife–throwing kind of way but in the awkward silences, the clinking silverware, and the sheer gravitational force of Aster Hayes sitting beside me like he’s too large for his own skin. And definitely too large for the delicate Vales‘ dining chairs.
He’s warm beside me, thigh brushing mine every so often, and every time it happens, my heart does something traitorous and dramatic, Acres from us, Tyler sits squished between his mom and dad, eyes flicking like he’s watching the world’s slowest tennis match.
Between me.
And Asher,
Back to me.
It doesn’t help that Asher’s being… calm. Polite. Almost smug, in that lethal way of his where every expression looks like a held–back secret. My mom is trying to keep the conversation light–travel, school, conferences. My dad, seated at the opposite end of the table like some suburban king, is letting her do the heavy lifting.
“I told Rob we should’ve booked the hotel near the coast,” my mom is saying. “But no, he had to try something ‘off the grid.“”
“It was adventurous,” my dad grins. “The raccoon was just a bonus.”
The adults laugh. Tyler snorts into his water.
I just pick at my green beans, trying not to hyper–fixate on the warmth of Asher’s hand so close to mine.
Then, out of nowhere, my dad puts down his fork, leans forward, and says
“So, Asher
how many people have you killed?”
I nearly choke. Like, actual sputtering. My mom’s eyes go wide.
“Dad,” I hiss, reaching for my water glass. “Seriously?”
“What?” he says, totally unbothered. “He’s military. It’s not like I’m asking for names.”
“Robert,” my mom snaps. “You do not ask that at dinner.”
Asher, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. He just raises his glass like this is all very normal and says, with a little amused tilt of his head, “Sorry, sir. That’s classified.”
My dad grins. “So that means a lot.”
“It means I can’t answer.”
“Over a hundred?”
Asher pauses.
Then he nods.
The air tightens around me like a rope pulling cinch. Tyler looks like he just watched someone get shot. My mom presses her lips together. My dad whistles, long and low.
And me?
I stare at my plate.
1/3
Chapter 193: Penny
Because Asher Hayes holds my hand like it’s glass, Kisses me like I’m aic Smiles like I’m the only safe place he’s ever known. But may all i can see behind his eyes the version of him I never get to meet. The version he left overseas. Maybe.
“Was it hard?” my mom asks gently. “Training, I mean.”
Asher’s voice is even. “It’s meant to be. They tear you down. Break your body. Your sleep cycle. Your mind. Then they rebuild it. Sharper Stronger Numb
The table goes quiet. Even my dad has the decency to shut up.
“You learn to go without food, rest, comfort. You learn pain is just another thing to master. And when they’re done, you’re not really you anymore. You’re what they made.”
He doesn’t look at anyone. Just straight ahead.
“Do you regret it?” Mom asks, quieter now.
Asher’s hand moves slightly beneath the table. Finds mine.
“I regret a lot of the decisions I’ve made over the past few years,” he says. “But the SEALS is not one of them.”
My breath sticks in my throat.
He’s not just answering for them. He’s answering for me,
too.
Because I’ve seen the scars. The silences. The nights he doesn’t sleep.
But I’ve also seen him let Tyler beat him at Mario Kart. I’ve seen him carry groceries with one arm so he could hold my hand with the other. I’ve seen him cry once – just once and it was because he thought he’d lost me.
He’s not a weapon.
Not with me.
And if he ever was, he’s unlearning it now. One dinner table at a time.
Asher must feel it the weight in the room, the crackle of nerves right before everything crumbles. Maybe he’s used to it, to that edge. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at knowing when to pull back.
He shifts in his seat, then turns toward my mom like nothing just happened.
“Mrs. Vale,” he says, voice smooth but still quiet, “can I ask what’s in this glaze? On the chicken?”
My mom blinks. “What?”
–
He gestures to his plate. “It’s incredible. Sweet, but not too sweet. Tangy. Maybe apricot?”
She blinks again – then blushes, actually blushes. “Oh! Um, yes, there’s apricot jam. And Dijon. A splash of white wine.”
Asher leans in a little, like he’s about to take notes. “That’s the secret, then. I’m going to be thinking about this for days.”
She beams like he just offered to write her a letter of recommendation to the Queen.
“I’ll email you the recipe,” she says, already reaching for her napkin like she’s going to go print it now
“Oh, no need,” he says. “I’ll remember. I have an… unclassified memory.”
Tyler groans. “You did not just make a dad joke.”
My dad laughs so hard he actually thumps the table.
Chapter 193: Penny
My mom shakes her head, grinning. “Rob, don’t encourage him.”
“Too late,” Dad says, raising his glass. “Anyone who compliments my wife’s cooking and terrifies me just a little is welcome anytime?
The tension loosens. Just like that.
Conversations bloom again. Tyler asks for seconds. My mom launches into a story about the time she tried to take a cooking class in Rome and accently used salt instead of sugar. My dad keeps making war movie references and misquoting them until Tyler starts fact–checking him on his phone
And beside me, Asher finally relaxes. Not all the way. Not completely. But enough. His leg still brushes nine under the table. His hand is still warm on try knee. And when he glances at me, there’s something in his eyes I can’t name – something soft, and sure, and just for me.
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