Chapter 196

“Asher.” Thalia’s voice was no match for the thundering rain; her words were instantly washed away. Yet somehow, he heard her. He turned, his gaze finding hers across the torrent. She stood in the shelter of the covered walkway; he remained exposed, rain cascading over him. The downpour obscured his features, turning him into a dark silhouette.

Thalia popped open her umbrella and took a step forward. The movement seemed to jar Asher from his trance. He strode toward her with sudden purpose. With his height and long stride, he reached her in seconds, before she’d barely left the shelter.

“Your wound hasn’t fully healed,” he said, his voice gravelly from disuse. “You shouldn’t get wet.” He gently caught her free hand, guiding her back to safety. His fingers felt like ice against her skin. She couldn’t help but shiver at the contact.

Asher noticed immediately and released her. “It’s freezing out here. You should get back inside.” Something caught in Thalia’s throat. Even drenched and grieving, his first thought was still her well-being. The realization stirred something complicated within her chest.

A single, dim bulb cast weak light along the covered walkway. Thalia closed her umbrella, propping it against a pillar.

“You…” she hesitated, “you shouldn’t be standing out in this weather.”

“Yeah, I know,” Asher replied, his eyes never leaving her face. Despite the overwhelming grief in his gaze, there was still that familiar warmth when he looked at her. The rain hammered against the ground, filling the silence between them.

They stood facing each other, words momentarily failing them both. Finally, Thalia spoke: “I’m so sorry about your father and grandmother, Asher.”

Something shifted in his expression. He stepped forward, arms beginning to rise toward her. Then, noticing the water dripping from his clothes, he stopped himself, hands suspended awkwardly in mid-air. The aborted gesture made Thalia’s heart ache. This was so typically him—considerate even in the smallest details. Impossible to ignore.

Asher lowered his hands, clearing his throat. “I’m holding up okay.”

Still so stubborn. Just like in her dream. Thalia looked up, meeting his eyes with gentle challenge. “If you’re ‘okay,’ why are you standing in a thunderstorm at 2 AM?”

Something in his eyes began to thaw. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could—his expression shifted to surprise. Thalia had stepped forward, wrapping her arms carefully around his waist. The familiar scent of her—subtle perfume mixed with hospital soap—surrounded him. Asher went completely still.

“Asher,” she murmured against his chest, tightening her arms slightly. “Would a hug make it hurt less?”

His eyes darkened as warmth spread through his chilled body. The heat from her embrace penetrated his soaked clothes, like standing before a fire after being out in the cold. Slowly, carefully, Asher’s arms encircled her, mindful of her still-healing wound, treating her like something infinitely precious.

“I’ve never been good at this comfort thing,” Thalia admitted quietly. “I know grief doesn’t just disappear, but please stop punishing yourself like this.”

Chapter 196

Who said she wasn’t good at offering comfort? One honest embrace spoke volumes. Asher felt something frozen within him begin to melt. After a moment that seemed both eternal and too brief, Thalia stepped back.

“That’s enough now.” She kept her eyes down, suddenly self-conscious. “Go home and get into some dry clothes, okay?”

“I will,” Asher promised, his voice gentler than she’d heard in months.

“And eat something. Get some sleep.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, practical. “I don’t need to be worrying about you on top of everything else.”

Those simple words touched something profound in him. She worried about him. This was the first time since their breakup that she’d openly admitted to caring.

“I promise,” he said softly.

“Good. I’m going back to my room now. Make yourself some tea when you get home. And take a hot shower,” she added, turning to leave.

Asher remained motionless, watching her retreating figure until she disappeared from sight. It was well past two when he finally made it home. The house was silent, the staff long since retired. Asher took a scalding shower, then brewed himself a cup of ginger tea, the spicy warmth spreading through him as he drank it. For the first time in days, when he finally lay down, sleep came quickly. His exhausted body surrendered to rest, her words and the memory of her embrace carrying him into darkness.