"No!" I wake up gasping, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Emma?" I hear Asher's voice as he touches my shoulder, but I pull away, walking straight to the bathroom.

My body is drenched in sweat, and the room feels stifling, so I turn on the taps and splash some water on my face.

Zack's face twisted with anger, the echoes of his harsh words, and the sharp sting of pain from his touch replay in my mind, vivid and terrifying, like a haunting memory, refusing to fade.

"Are you okay?" Asher asks from the door, and I look at him. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, and concern etches his features as he registers my distress.

"Yeah..." I clear my throat, looking down. "Just a nightmare."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"I don't even remember..." I shrug, bringing my eyes back to him. Big mistake. He's looking at me like he can see right through me. Only there's a hint of disappointment in his gaze that I've never seen before. I open my mouth, trying to say something, but nothing comes out.

He takes a tentative step closer, and I meet him halfway. He grabs my hand, pulling me to his chest, and I quickly wrap my arms around him. His chin drops to the top of my head, and the sigh that leaves his lips breaks my heart.

A sob breaks free from my chest before I can do anything, and Asher tightens his hold around me. I try to suppress my tears, but the pain feels too raw, too close to the surface.

"Shh," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm. "It's okay. You're safe, babe."

I shake my head, trying to pull myself together.

"Is it about your dad? About the shelter?" Asher murmurs, his fingers gently tracing circles on my back.

I pull away slightly, meeting his gaze. There's a fierceness in his eyes, a silent promise that he'd do anything to protect me. It warms my heart, but at the same time, I can't shake the guilt that accompanies it.

"It feels like so much has happened in our lives in such a short time," I mumble, wiping away the tears that refuse to stop.

"It sure does..." Asher cups my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the remnants of my tears.

A shaky breath escapes me as I lean into his touch, pulling him into a hug again. In an ideal world, I'd be considered the victim when it comes to Zack. But I've seen firsthand how cruel the world can be to women who've endured abuse.

Society has this twisted way of scrutinizing and blaming women for the abuse they've suffered. The whispers of judgment echo louder than the cries for help, and the scars left by abuse extend far beyond the physical.

This victim-blaming is an insidious dance that perpetuates a cycle of shame and silence. Women are expected to carry the weight of their trauma in silence, and if they dare to speak out, they risk being labeled damaged or unstable.

Women, all around the globe, who have endured not only verbal and physical abuse but also the violation of their privacy, showcase a strength that transcends words. Their resilience in the face of such adversity is a testament to their courage and tenacity.

But, despite their strength, the journey toward healing is often hindered by the societal challenges that surround discussing such traumatic experiences openly. The stigma and judgment that persist can make it incredibly difficult for survivors to share their stories and seek the understanding and support they deserve.

I've witnessed these kinds of struggles daily. I've personally lived through these challenges for years. I've made my life mission to support these women because I know what it feels like.

Because I am one of them.

So, while my mind is reminding me I have nothing to be ashamed of, my throat is tight, and I can't make myself say the words.

"Come on," Asher says gently, breaking the silence. "Let's go back to bed."

"Ash?" I cup his cheek, wishing for the hundredth time things were different. "I love you," I say, hoping it's enough for now.

*****

"When am I meeting your man?" Melissa sinks into a chair in front of my desk. She's been joking about Asher being my imaginary fiance for a while now, but the truth is that we have all been so busy lately that it's been hard to get together.

"How about going out for brunch on the weekend?" I turn off my computer for the day. "I'm sure José and Aiden will want to join us, too."

"Argh... I hate to be a third wheel, but I love you guys too much, so sure..." She rolls her eyes playfully and I shake my head.

"Any plans for tonight?" I ask.

"Nope." She sighs. "Another Friday night all by myself."

"What happened to that guy your sister-in-law introduced you?"

She looks away with a faraway look on her face. "He's cute and all, but there are no sparks between us, you know?"

"I'm sorry things didn't work out, Mel." I squeeze her hand, and she brings her eyes back to me.

"So..." She gives me a mischievous smile. "The girls and I are throwing you a bachelorette party next week!"

"You what?" I gasp, a mix of surprise and emotion invading me. After my mom's death and my tumultuous relationship with Zack, I barely had any friends left.

But Mel and the other girls here have always been by my side.

"You really thought we'd let you tie the knot without a last hooray?" She laughs.

I lean back in my chair. "What did you have in mind?"

"Now, that's a surprise, sweet cheeks!"

"Well," I start, but before I can continue, my phone beeps with a message from my father.

"Emma?" Mel touches my hand. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." I plaster a smile on my face as I stand up. "Just some things I have to deal with before the wedding."

"Is there something I can do to help?" she asks, making a smile.

"Your friendship is all I need, girl." I pull her into a side hug, chuckling when she throws her arms around my neck.

*****

My father arranged a rehearsal dinner for me and Asher next Friday.

I came straight to the penthouse after work to cook some dinner, but the aroma of spices and the sizzle of the pan only add to my nerves. I've been trying to process the email he sent me a couple of hours ago with all the information about it, but I just can't. My mind is tangled in a web of conflicting thoughts.

At eight, the ding of the elevator lets me know Asher has arrived, and a second later, he's joining me in the kitchen.

"Hey." He hugs me from behind, nuzzling my neck. "Smells good in here."

I turn in his embrace, wrapping my arms around his neck. "How was your day?"

"Hectic." He kisses my jaw. "I might've punched Henry's face twice in my mind."

I chuckle. "So, we're making progress, huh? Yesterday, you might've strangled him in your mind a couple of times."

"Right?" He laughs, pulling away to look at me. "What about you? I loved the pictures you sent me. The shelter's rebuilding process is coming along nicely."

"Yeah, they're saying things will be ready to go back to normal in a couple of months, but it feels like forever in my head."

He kisses my jaw. "I can only imagine. But think about how great it will be for everyone when they see all the improvements you guys are making to the place."

"Yeah..." I sigh, pressing my hand to his chest.

"Do I have time to shower before dinner?"

"Sure." I nod. "I'm just wrapping things up here."

"Be right back." He drops a kiss on the top of my head before walking to the bedroom.

My heart starts racing when dinner is ready. Taking a deep breath, I turn off the stove and set the spoon aside. I have no idea how to approach Asher about the rehearsal dinner, so without thinking much, I head to the bedroom after him.

My breath catches in my throat at the sight in front of me.

Asher is sitting on the bed, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair is wet from the shower, and his back is to me as he types something on his phone.

Nothing out of the extraordinary. Just a guy messing with his phone in bed after a shower.

Yet, everything inside goes soft.

I want him to come back home to me every day, and I want to do the same for him. I want the normality of our everyday lives to stretch into eternity. But the looming rehearsal dinner and the unspoken tensions in the air make me wonder how elusive normality truly is.

Taking a deep breath, I walk the short distance to him. As my knee sinks into the mattress, he turns to me. I press my lips to his neck and wrap my arms around him. He puts his phone away, groaning softly when I slide my hands up to his shoulders and slowly start massaging the tension away.

"I need to talk to you about something..." I say, and he tilts his head to look at me.

"What is it?" He adjusts his body, so his back is resting against the bed.

With my eyes on him, I climb onto his lap, straddling him. His brows rise in surprise, but his hands instinctively grip my hips, pulling me to him.

"My father is throwing us a rehearsal dinner next week," I say, noticing the exact moment his body tenses under me.

"He what?"

"I know we've already had the wedding planner taking care of everything, but can we try to figure something out?"

"Why the hell does James want to do this?" He frowns. "I thought you two were not on speaking terms."

"My relationship with my father is... complicated, Ash." I sigh, smoothing his hair back from his face. "But we have so much going on right now. Can we just go with the flow with this?"

"I want everything about the wedding to be about us, Em." He shakes his head. "I know we started this as an arrangement, but I need this to be about us."

"And it will be, I promise." I cup his cheek, praying my father doesn't go over the top with anything. "I just don't want to fight with him right now."

His eyes narrow as he studies me, and I flush under his gaze. "What are you not telling me?"

"What do you mean?" I try to smile, but it comes out strained.

"I feel like there's something you're not telling me."

Cupping his nape, I pull him into a soft kiss. "Everything is fine," I murmur over his lips. "I just need you to do this for me."

He pulls away slightly to look at me. "You're not lying to me or anything, are you?"

"Ash..." I try to move away from his hold, but he holds me tight.

"Look at me," he says, and I bring my eyes to him.

"I'm not lying to you," I say, hoping I won't regret it someday.

_____

A/N: On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you think she'll regret it?

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