A Little Argument

I drove home, the night air cool against the tear-streaked windows of the car. My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary, my mind spinning as I replayed the confrontation with Rowan over and over. By the time I pulled into the driveway, exhaustion weighed on me like a heavy blanket.

The house was quiet when I stepped inside. The soft glow of the living room lamp was the only light, and for a moment, I thought everyone was asleep. Then I saw Asher sitting on the couch, a glass of wine in his hand.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with something I couldn’t quite place.

“Asher,” I sighed, setting my bag down and kicking off my heels. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured you’d need someone to talk to,” he replied, swirling the wine in his glass. “And from the look on your face, I was right.”

I shook my head, not ready to dive into everything yet. “Where are the kids?”

“Fast asleep,” he said, nodding toward the hallway. “Jo said they were angels tonight. Barely gave her any trouble.”

“Good,” I muttered, sinking onto the couch opposite him. My hands trembled slightly as I reached for the glass of wine he’d poured for me.

Asher watched me for a moment before leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’ve been crying.”

“No kidding,” I said, taking a sip of the wine.

He winced but didn’t respond right away. Instead, he waited until I met his eyes. “Look, I know I was hard on you earlier. Too hard. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

I stared at him, surprised by the sudden apology. “What brought this on?”

“I had time to think,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “And Carter... well, he might’ve yelled at me for being a jackass.”

A small, weak smile tugged at the corner of my lips. “Sounds about right.”

Asher set his glass down on the coffee table, leaning back against the couch. “I just... I hate seeing you like this, Remi. You’re my best friend, and when I see you hurting, I get protective. Maybe too protective.”

“You think?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed softly. “Fair point. But seriously, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things worse for you. I just... I don’t want you to go through this alone.”

I felt the tears welling up again, but this time they were more from relief than anger. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

Asher got up and moved to sit beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Hey, don’t cry again. You’ll run out of tears at this rate.”

I let out a shaky laugh, leaning into him. “I doubt that.”

We sat like that for a while, the silence between us comfortable and familiar. I sipped my wine slowly, trying to process everything that had happened.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Asher asked eventually, his voice gentle.

I hesitated, staring into the glass in my hands. “It’s Rowan.”

“Of course it is,” he said with a sigh, but there was no judgment in his tone.

“It’s just... he’s different now,” I said, struggling to find the words. “And I don’t know how to feel about it. Part of me wants to hate him, but the other part...”

“Wants to forgive him?” Asher finished for me.

I nodded, feeling a lump rise in my throat. “He’s not the same person who hurt me. But I can’t forget what he did. It’s like I’m stuck in this limbo, and I don’t know how to get out.”

Asher was quiet for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly against my arm. “You don’t have to figure it out right now,” he said finally. “Take your time. Feel what you need to feel. Just don’t let him back into your life unless you’re sure it’s what you want.”

I sighed, resting my head against his shoulder. “It’s not that simple, Asher. There’s so much history there, so much pain. And now with the kids...”

“The kids are what matter most,” he said firmly. “Whatever you decide, make sure it’s for them, too.”

“I know,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

We sat in silence again, the warmth of his presence comforting in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.

“You’re too good to me,” I said softly.

He chuckled, his voice low and warm. “That’s what friends are for.”

We finished the bottle of wine together, talking about lighter topics—his latest work projects, funny stories about the kids, anything that didn’t involve Rowan or my tangled emotions.

At some point, the exhaustion finally caught up with me. My eyes grew heavy, and before I knew it, I was drifting off, the sound of Asher’s voice lulling me to sleep.

—

The sun wasn’t even up yet when Larry rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed. Laura was already awake, squirming beside him.

“I’m thirsty,” she whispered dramatically, poking him in the arm.

“Then go get water,” Larry muttered, pulling the blanket over his head.

“I’m scared,” Laura said, her voice small.

Larry groaned. “Fine. Let’s go.”

The two of them tiptoed out of their room, careful not to make too much noise. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that made their small footsteps sound like thunder. They reached the kitchen, and Larry was just about to pour a glass of water when Laura tugged on his sleeve.

“Larry,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “Look!”

He followed her gaze toward the living room. There, on the couch, were their mum and Uncle Asher. Mum was curled up against him, her head resting on his shoulder, while Uncle Asher had an arm draped loosely around her.

“What are they doing?” Laura asked.

“They’re dancing,” Larry said, frowning. She gasped. Larry rolled his eyes, “Of course they are sleeping Laura. Think”

“Together!” Laura whispered, her voice rising slightly.

“Shh!” Larry hissed, glancing toward the living room to make sure they hadn’t woken up.

Laura grabbed his hand and pulled him back toward their room, giggling softly as they shut the door behind them. She climbed onto her bed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Do you think Uncle Asher is going to be our new daddy?” she asked, her tone conspiratorial.

Larry froze, staring at her. “What? No. Uncle Asher is just Mummy’s friend.”

“But they were cuddling,” Laura said, grinning. “That’s what people do when they like each other, right? Maybe they’re in love!”

Larry crossed his arms, his face serious. “Mummy doesn’t love Uncle Asher like that. She said they’re just friends.”

“Maybe she changed her mind,” Laura said with a shrug. “He’s nice, and he always brings us ice cream.”

Larry narrowed his eyes at her. “Ice cream doesn’t make someone a daddy.”

“It helps,” Laura said matter-of-factly. “And Uncle Asher is fun! He plays games with us and makes Mummy laugh. That’s important.”

Larry sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Uncle Rowan makes Mummy smile too.”

Laura wrinkled her nose. “Handsome Uncle?”

“Yes, Handsome Uncle,” Larry said firmly. “He’s smart, and he talks to Mummy about grown-up things. And he’s... uh, important.”

“Uncle Asher is important too,” Laura argued. “And he’s nice to us. Uncle Rowan is always busy and grumpy.”

“He’s not grumpy,” Larry said, frowning. “He’s just serious. And he knows a lot about stuff, like how to run a business. He could take care of us.”

“Uncle Asher already takes care of us,” Laura shot back. “And he’s not scary.”

“Uncle Rowan isn’t scary,” Larry said defensively. “He’s just... cool.”

“Uncle Asher is cool too!” Laura said, crossing her arms.

The two of them stared at each other, the room silent except for the faint sound of birds chirping outside.

Finally, Laura sighed dramatically. “Fine. Let’s think about the benefits.”

“The benefits?” Larry repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Laura said, sitting cross-legged on her bed. “Like, what would be better if Uncle Asher was our daddy?”

Larry hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. If Uncle Rowan was our daddy, we’d be super rich. He’s a billionaire.”

Laura’s eyes widened. “That’s true... but Uncle Asher knows how to make pancakes!”

Larry frowned. “Uncle Rowan could probably hire a chef to make pancakes.”

“But that’s not the same,” Laura argued. “Uncle Asher makes them with chocolate chips and whipped cream.”

“Uncle Rowan has a private jet,” Larry countered. “We could go anywhere we wanted, anytime.”

Laura gasped. “Like Disney World?”

“Yes,” Larry said triumphantly. “And Paris and Japan and... anywhere.”

Laura bit her lip, clearly impressed. But then her eyes lit up. “But Uncle Asher plays hide-and-seek with us. Uncle Rowan doesn’t even know how to play!”

Larry sighed, rubbing his temples. “That’s because Uncle Rowan is busy doing important stuff.”

“Uncle Asher’s important too,” Laura said stubbornly. “He helps Mummy when she’s sad.”

Larry thought about that, his brows furrowing. “Uncle Rowan talks to Mummy a lot too. And I think she likes it.”

Laura tilted her head. “You think she likes him?”

Larry nodded slowly. “She talks about him sometimes when she thinks we’re not listening. And she gets this look on her face...”

“What kind of look?” Laura asked, leaning closer.

“Like... like she’s confused and mad, but also kind of happy,” Larry said, struggling to describe it.

Laura frowned. “That’s weird.”

“It is,” Larry agreed.

They sat in silence for a moment, both lost in thought.

Finally, Laura broke the silence. “Maybe we should just let Mummy decide.”

Larry nodded. “Yeah. She’s smart. She’ll figure it out.”

“But I still think Uncle Asher would make the best daddy,” Laura said, grinning.

“And I still think it’s Uncle Rowan,” Larry replied with a smirk.

They glared at each other for a moment before bursting into giggles.

“Do you think Mummy will ever marry someone?” Laura asked, flopping onto her back.

Larry shrugged. “Maybe. But whoever it is, they better be nice to her. Or else.”

“Yeah,” Laura said, her voice sleepy now. “Because Mummy
deserves the best.”

Larry nodded, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “She does.”

And with that, the two of them drifted off to sleep, their little argument forgotten—at least for now.