I Want You Remi
The moment Rowan’s car disappeared down the street with the others, I locked the door behind me and stood in the middle of the house, heart still racing.
The photo burned in my back pocket.
Someone had been here.
Someone who knew me. Knew that version of me—the child on the swing, the one before Rowan, before Claire, before life became a series of betrayals and bandages.
I wasn’t crazy. That photo hadn’t been there before.
I moved quickly, turning on every light in the house as I made my way back to the twins’ room. I dropped to my knees and searched beneath the bed, behind the dresser, flipping through the drawers we hadn’t packed yet.
Nothing.
I checked my room next. The closet. My old memory box. I sifted through papers, cards, old letters—looking for something else that didn’t belong.
But it was all mine. All familiar.
Still, something felt off.
The air was heavier. My hands were shaking.
I stood in the hallway, frozen. Then, as if some primal instinct kicked in, I spun around and hurried downstairs to the kitchen.
The drawer beside the sink opened with a quiet click, and I reached in for the largest knife I could find. My fingers closed around the handle like it was the only thing tethering me to safety.
I turned slowly, breath shallow—
Then bumped into something solid.
I gasped, stumbled back, nearly dropping the knife.
A hand caught my wrist.
My eyes darted up—
“Asher?” I breathed.
He looked just as startled as I felt. “Jesus, Remi. You almost stabbed me.”
I stepped back, still clutching the knife. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He didn’t move. His chest rose and fell with quiet restraint. “I was checking on you.”
“In my house? At night? Alone?” My voice rose. “Why are you sneaking around like a damn thief?”
His jaw ticked. “I knocked. You didn’t answer.”
“So you just entered?”
“You weren’t answering your phone either.” He paused. “Something felt wrong.”
I stared at him, knife still in hand. “So you broke into my house to play detective?”
He shrugged, eyes on me. “I was worried okay and i…wanted to apologize.”
I hesitated. For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I was more afraid of the fact that someone slipped a photo under my door… or that Asher had appeared like a ghost in the middle of it all.
“Remi,” he said, voice quieter now. “What’s going on?”
“I…” I blinked. My grip on the knife loosened. “Nothing. Just packing.”
He looked at me like he knew that was a lie.
“Where are the kids?”
“Gone already. With Jo.”
He nodded, but his eyes were still fixed on me. “You found something. That’s why you stayed back.”
My jaw tightened.
“I know you, Remi,” he said, stepping forward. “You always shut down when you’re scared and avoid people during that time.”
I didn’t speak.
“Asher…” I whispered, the name shaky on my lips. “Why are you really here?”
He didn’t answer right away. He took another step, slower this time, careful not to spook me.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said,” he finally murmured.
I looked at him.
“The way you said you loved him,” Asher said, eyes flicking to mine. “It gutted me.”
I lowered the knife slowly and set it on the counter.
“You could’ve walked away,” I said.
“I tried. I did. I got in my car, drove halfway across the city. But I kept thinking about you. Even after getting drunk and high, I still thought about you. Alone in this house. Still packing. Still hurting. I couldn't leave it like that.”
I swallowed hard. “I told you that it's not fair and I am sorry for hurting you too.”
He shook his head. “It’s not about fair or apologies. It’s about the fact that I’m still in love with you.”
I stepped back, bumping lightly into the fridge.
“I want you, Remi,” he said, voice low and sure. “Even now. Even after everything.”
And just like that—my breath caught.
I wasn’t expecting it. Not after everything I’d said. Not after he walked away.
The words didn’t sound like a confession. They sounded like a decision. A final one.
“I can’t live without you,” he added, stepping closer.
I took a step back. “That’s a lie.”
He shook his head slowly. “No. It’s not.”
“You were liviing just fine before you met me.”
“IThat was before, now it's after” he said quietly. “I came here because I couldn’t breathe knowing you were still here. With him. With all of this.”
I blinked, thrown by the sudden shift in his voice. There was something off in the way he was talking—calm, but too calm. Measured. Like every word was rehearsed.
He reached for my hand. His grip was firmer than I expected.
“Let go of me,” I said, tugging.
“Remi.”
“What’s your problem? Let go of me Asher!!”” My voice rose, tight with confusion. “Why are you doing this?”
He didn’t answer right away.
His grip tightened.
“Asher. Let me go.”
He looked at me, and for the first time ever… I didn’t recognize him.
“A lot is my problem,” he murmured. “A lot. You. Him. All of this… unraveling. I gave everything, and I still lost.”
His voice cracked around the edges. “You say I deserved better. That I was the safe choice. The good one. But you don’t love the good one, Remi. You never did.”
I froze.
“You loved the danger. The cruelty. The bad boy. Not the good one who help people.” He stepped closer, and I tried to move, but he held me still. “But I can’t live without you.”
“Let me go,” I said sharply, pushing at his chest.
He didn’t budge.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered suddenly, voice softer. Too soft.
“What—”
Then I felt the pinch.
Sharp. Quick. Right at the side of my neck.
My body jerked back, but it was too late.
The syringe in his hand dropped to the floor with a quiet clink.
My vision blurred.
The room tilted.
“What did you do?” I gasped, stumbling back, one hand grabbing the counter, the other pressing to my neck.
“I didn’t want to,” he whispered. “I really didn’t.”
I blinked hard, everything going hazy, as if someone had pulled a curtain down over my eyes.
“Asher…” My knees buckled. “What… what did you…”
He caught me before I hit the ground, arms around me, lowering me slowly.
“Shh,” he said, holding me tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry, Remi. I’m so sorry. I just… I can’t let you go. I can't let you be his.”
Tears slipped down my face. Not from pain. From fear.
My limbs felt heavy. My voice weak.
“Asher…” I whispered again, barely there.
“I just want us to be like before,” he murmured into my hair. “Back when it was just you and me. No Vaughns. No scars. No lies.”
I tried to move, but everything was slipping away.
The last thing I heard was his voice.
“Stay with me, okay?” he whispered.
Then—
“Forever.”
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