Chapter 108: Penny
The smell of coffee and lemon cake fills the living room. The lights are low and warm, the fireplace crackling just enough to make everything feel too cozy for the kind of tension sitting quietly in my chest.
Tyler’s parents are perched on the love seat. Mine are side by side on the couch across from them. I’m tucked in beside Tyler, my legs curled under me, his hand resting lightly on my thigh beneath the throw blanket.
Asher sits where he always does. In the armchair across the room. The furthest point from everyone but still dead center in my field of vision.
He hasn’t said much.
He doesn’t need to.
Even quiet, he takes up space. Dressed in black – again – sleeves pushed to his elbows, jaw shadowed like he hasn’t bothered shaving in a day or two. His coffee cup rests in one palm, thumb tapping it once every few beats like he’s timing something. Or maybe trying not to speak.
“So, Asher,” my dad says, leaning back with a casual smile, “what kind of work were you doing out there?”
Asher lifts the mug to his mouth. Sips first. Swallows.
“Classified, sir.”
My mom’s eyebrows rise. “Really?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Nothing you can share?”
He shakes his head, polite. “Not unless you’ve got high clearance and a badge I don’t recognize.”
Mr. Hayes lets out a quiet laugh. “Told you he was impossible.”
“Some questions are better left unanswered,” Asher says. “For
your safety”
There’s a flicker of something behind his voice. Dry. Not quite defensive. But not open
either.
“Okay,” my mom says, switching gears, “then how about something easier. What’s the first thing you did when you got home?”
Asher tilts his head, like he has to think about it.
“Took a walk around the block. First time I’ve been somewhere without a weapon or a target on my back in four years.”
Silence.
“Jesus,” my dad mutters.
“You’re joking, right?” I ask softly.
He looks at me. And for a second, everything slows
“No, princess. I’m not.”
My stomach does something weird. His voice is quiet. But not soft. Never soft.
“Do you miss it?” Mrs, Hayes asks, trying to ease the mood. “Being deployed?”
“Sometimes.”
“What do you miss?” my mom adds.
Asher stares into his coffee. Then answers without looking up.
“Knowing exactly what the rules are.”
Tyler chuckles. “I don’t think you’ve ever followed rules in your life.”
Asher’s mouth lifts, just slightly.
“There’s a difference between rules you don’t like… and rules you’d die if you don’t follow.”
No one knows what to say to that.
Even the fire feels quieter.
“So what’s next?” my dad asks. “You planning to stay here long?”
“Still unsure, sir,” Asher says.
“What would you do if it weren’t military?” my mom asks. “You’re good with your hands, Tyler says.”
He nods once. “I like building things. Fixing them. Small stuff, big stuff.”
“Broken stuff?” I ask, too fast. My voice is lighter than it should be.
Asher meets my eyes again. Something passes through his expression, unreadable.
“That’s the best kind.”
“Do they always go back the way they were?” my mom asks, and I’m not sure why I care so much about the answer.
He leans back slightly in the chair. One hand slides along the armrest.
“Nothing ever does.”
That lands hard.
リ
Tyler’s thumb strokes my leg again, probably sensing the change in my breathing. I’m not sure I even notice it.
“Okay, okay,” I groan, trying to lighten the air. “Can we stop interrogating him like we’re the CIA?”
Laughter breaks the silence. Everyone chuckles. Even Asher exhales like it’s funny.
“What’s next, waterboarding?” I mutter, earning me another laugh from the room.
“We love it,” Tyler says. “You have no idea how rare this is. He’s spoken more tonight than he has since he got back.”
“He’s fascinating,” my mom says. “I want to know everything.”
“Well, everything is classified,” I say, mimicking Asher’s voice with mock seriousness. “Can’t tell you unless you’ve got a badge and a blood oath.”
Asher smirks faintly. Doesn’t deny it.
“Anyway,” I laugh. “No blood oaths. But seriously, you said you guys had an idea you wanted to talk about?”
–
My mom straightens a little. My dad sits–forward. The Hayes parents glance at each other all of them suddenly in on something I’m not.
“Yes,” my mom says. “Honey, we know Tyler’s been asking you to go on the winter retreat, and you said your ballet schedule wouldn’t all i
“Because it didn’t,” I say slowly.
“But now it does,” my dad cuts in. “You’re on two weeks of mandatory rest. And the trip is only one.”
I stiffen. “I’m still preparing for Swan Lake.”
“Not for the next twelve days,” my mom says gently. “And what are you going to do? Sit here? Alone, unable to dance, while your boyfriend and friends are all together?”
I open my mouth, but Mrs. Hayes jumps in.
“It’s a beautiful chalet, sweetheart. Big main lodge, little guest cabins around it. Quiet. Snowy. You could have your own place. No pressure to hang out. just rest. Heal.”
“And if you’re tired,” Mr. Hayes adds, “you can sleep in, read, stare at the mountains. No noise, no pressure.”
“And,” my mom says softly, “by the time you get back… you’ll beady to dance again.”
I look around the room.
Everyone’s smiling at me.
Tyler gives my hand a soft squeeze. “You’ll love it, babe.”
I nod slowly, lips parting-
But I don’t speak.
