Always The Bad Guy
It was awkward.
It felt awkward, I feel like I should shut up.
Asher didn’t flinch. He just stood there, jaw clenched, eyes dark and unreadable. If I’d told him I’d burned down a building, he might have looked less devastated.
His throat bobbed. “Yeah,” he said after a moment, voice low. “Of course you do.”
“Asher—”
“No.” He held up a hand, backing away slightly. “Don’t.”
I stepped forward instinctively. “Please. Just let me explain—”
“Explain what?” His voice cracked, but his eyes stayed dry. “That I’m the fool? The backup plan? The one who showed up and stayed when he didn’t?”
My chest tightened. “You’re not a backup plan.”
“I’m not anything, Remi,” he said bitterly. “That’s the point.”
I shook my head. “Don’t say that.”
“You think I didn’t see it coming?” he asked. “I saw it. Every time you said you hated him, I saw how your hands shook. How your voice softened when you talked about the twins and their eyes and how much they looked like him. I saw how much you hated wanting him. And I just… stayed.”
I covered my mouth with one hand as guilt rushed through me like a wave.
“I stayed because I thought maybe, just maybe, if I kept showing up, you’d see me.”
“I do see you, Asher.”
His laugh was cold. “No. You see what I’ve done. You see the help. The loyalty. The protection. But not me.”
That hurt. Because it was true in ways I hadn’t allowed myself to admit.
“You were the only good thing I had for a long time,” I whispered.
“I didn’t want to be a ‘good thing,’ Remi. I wanted to be it. The one. The reason you smiled again. The man you came home to. The man your kids would grow up thinking of as safe and steady.”
“You are safe,” I whispered.
“But you don’t love me.”
I closed my eyes.
And that… was the truth that ruined us.
He exhaled, sharp and bitter. “It’s always the one who wrecks you, huh? The one who gets forgiven. The one who gets second chances. The bad boy. The toxic one. They always win. Meanwhile, the person who stood by you who cleaned up the wreckage, he walks away with nothing.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. No words. No voice. I just started at him.
At my best friend. Yes…that's all I ever saw him as, my best friend. My fingers clenched by my side as I looked at him through clouded vision.
He gave a half-smile. It wasn’t real. “You know what’s funny? I didn’t think I could lose to a man who forgot your name.”
“Asher, please—”
“Good luck, Remi,” he said, stepping back toward his car. “I hope you’re right. I hope this version of him doesn’t destroy you again.”
He got into his car, closed the door, and didn’t look back.
The engine started. The headlights blinked on. And within seconds, he was gone.
Just like that.
I stood on the sidewalk, cold and frozen, my arms wrapped around myself.
I didn’t move.
Not for a long time.
—
When I got inside, the house felt hollow.
Too quiet. Too still.
It didn’t feel like mine anymore.
I dropped my bag by the door and went straight to the kitchen. Poured a glass of water with shaking hands I couldn’t control.
I didn’t drink it.
I just stood there, gripping the glass like it was the only thing anchoring me.
And then the tears came.
Not silent, gentle ones. The loud, ugly kind that snuck up on you and cracked your ribs open from the inside.
I slid to the floor, back against the cabinets, knees pulled up to my chest.
I cried.
For Asher.
For what I’d said.
For how badly it all felt.
I cried because I didn’t want to be this person. The one who chose the man who broke her heart over the one who tried to save it.
But it wasn’t that simple.
It never was.
Love didn’t listen to reason. It didn’t obey timelines. It didn’t reward the good guy just because he deserved it.
I loved Rowan.
Even when I hated him. Even when I wanted to scream and punch and undo everything between us—I still loved him.
And Asher… Asher had always felt like a promise I didn’t know how to keep.
He deserved someone who would look at him the way I looked at Rowan.
And that person wasn’t me.
That realization only made it worse.
Because I never wanted to be someone who hurt Asher.
But I had.
And now, he was gone.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand and pressed my forehead to my knees.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. Not to anyone. Just out loud. To the air. To the night. To the broken mess I’d made.
I didn’t know if Asher would forgive me.
I didn’t know if Rowan would ever truly be worthy of the love I still gave him.
But in that quiet moment, on that cold kitchen floor, surrounded by the ghosts of my own choices—
I finally said the truth out loud.
“I love him,” I whispered again.
And this time, no one argued.
Just my own voice echoing back at me.
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