Chapter 189

Chapter 14

The night felt magical again.

Andrea lay tangled with Asher, their bodies pressed so close together that she could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against her. This time, they weren’t on the mattress on the floor but in the bed, the softness cradling them as if the universe had conspired to make this moment perfect.

His arms were wrapped around her, possessive yet gentle, his large hand resting against the curve of her swollen belly, stroking over it with slow, reverent caresses.“Tell me,” he murmured against her ear, his voice husky and deep, sending shivers down her spine. “Does this feel as special to you as it does to me?”

Andrea sighed, pressing a lingering kiss beneath his chin before tucking her head underneath it, nestling into his warmth. “Special?” she whispered. “It’s more than special to me.”

Asher’s lips brushed over her temple, his breath warm as he smiled. “It’s funny,” he mused, his fingers tracing delicate patterns over her belly, “that you were afraid I was going to leave, when all this time, I’ve been terrified of losing you.” His voice dropped lower, raw with emotion. “Not just you…but Asher Junior as well.”Andrea felt a lump form in her throat, her eyes misting over.“I’ve grown very attached to him, you know,” he continued softly, his palm splaying over the curve of her stomach.A tear slipped down her cheek, but she blinked it away, letting out a soft chuckle instead. “You’re dead set on that name, aren’t you?”

“I love it,” he admitted, his voice a whispered confession. Then, a pause—hesitation. “Sometimes…I imagine him with blue eyes and dark hair,” he said, his tone almost shy.Andrea lifted her head, surprised.And then, she saw it.For the first time, Asher looked uncertain. Hopeful. He wanted this baby to be his in every way, wanted to see himself in the child they would bring into the world together.

Her heart clenched with love.
She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she pressed her lips against his, slow and deep, letting her touch say everything.
Asher exhaled against her mouth, his grip tightening just slightly, his fingers brushing up her arm, her shoulder, tracing the curve of her collarbone before slipping down again to stroke over the swell of her belly.

She shivered, but not from cold.

His hands roamed her body without urgency, his touch deliberate, reverent. Over her waist, over her ribs, up her sides, fingertips featherlight but leaving a burning trail wherever they passed. He traced the outline of her breasts through the fabric of her nightdress, teasing, never quite touching the way she ached for.

Andrea let out a small sound, her breath catching as he shifted, rolling her gently beneath him. The weight of him was intoxicating, his body pressing against hers, his lips skimming over her jawline, down her throat.

He kissed his way lower, brushing his lips over her chest, the fabric of her dress the only barrier between his mouth and her bare skin. His hands never stopped moving, memorizing every inch of her.

Their fingers intertwined above her head, his grip firm but tender, anchoring her to him.Her body arched instinctively, seeking more, but he was in no hurry.

His palm slid back down to her belly, his touch reverent as he caressed the place where their child grew. He pressed a soft kiss there, his lips lingering.“I love you,” he murmured against her skin. “Both of you.”Andrea’s breath stuttered.

Her hands slid up his back, nails dragging lightly over his muscles, feeling the way he tensed beneath her touch. He groaned, his forehead pressing against her chest for a moment before he moved up again, capturing her lips once more in a deep, searing kiss.They didn’t need to rush.They didn’t need more than this.Just touches.Just love.

And as they held each other, skin against skin, lips meeting over and over, they found something deeper than passion—something unbreakable.And when sleep finally claimed them, they were still tangled together, their hearts beating as one.

The break of dawn crept through the curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the tangled sheets. Andrea stirred, her body still entwined with Asher’s, their limbs tangled in the afterglow of the night before.

She sighed contentedly, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek, the warmth of his skin pressed flush against hers. His arm was draped protectively around her waist, his hand resting just beneath the curve of her belly, where their baby grew. Even in sleep, he held her as if he never wanted to let go.

She shifted slightly, pressing a featherlight kiss to his collarbone, inhaling the familiar, intoxicating scent of him.
But then—

A loud, relentless pounding shattered the peace.Andrea frowned, still half-asleep, but the persistent knocking at their door was quickly followed by the shrill, grating sound of their doorbell being held down, an obnoxious, unbroken ring.

“What the hell?” she mumbled, groaning as she buried her face deeper into Asher’s chest, hoping it would stop.

Asher stirred beside her, grumbling lowly, his arm tightening around her as if to shield her from the disturbance. “Goddamn it…” he muttered, his voice rough and heavy with sleep.

Andrea barely had time to process before he sighed and started to move. “No…” she whined sleepily, wrapping her arms around him tighter, refusing to let him go.A smirk played on his lips as he looked down at her, his voice husky as he murmured, “Baby, I have to see who the hell is banging on our door.”She pouted, her lips soft and tempting as she opened her arms wide, reaching for him like a needy kitten. “Come back,” she whispered, her voice laced with a lazy sensuality. “Please…”

He groaned, leaning down, brushing his lips over hers in a slow, lingering kiss. “Keep those arms open, sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath warm against her lips. “I’ll be right back. You won’t even notice I was gone.”

But Andrea noticed.Because the bed felt cold without him.

The space beside her was empty, and without the warmth of his body against hers, she was wide awake now.She rolled onto her back, stretching lazily, her bare legs tangling in the sheets as she listened. The knocking had stopped. The ringing had stopped. But Asher hadn’t come back.She turned her head to the clock on the nightstand. 4:30 AM.A frown creased her brow. It had been a while now—longer than it should have taken to send away some impatient visitor at this ungodly hour. What the hell was he doing for so long?

Curiosity won over exhaustion. With a soft groan, she pushed herself up, running a hand through her tousled hair. The morning air was crisp and cool against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.She didn’t want to leave the warmth of their bed, but something told her she needed to.Grabbing one of Asher’s spare shirts, she slipped it over her nightdress, the fabric oversized and swallowing her smaller frame. The scent of him clung to it, surrounding her like a protective cocoon.

Padding barefoot across the wooden floor, she made her way toward the door, determined to find out just what—or who—had pulled him away from her arms.Andrea moved silently through the house, her bare feet brushing against the cold floor as she wrapped her arms around herself. Something felt wrong. The air was too still, too hollow, as if the house itself had been abandoned.Her heart lurched when she reached the front door—left wide open.Asher had left the door open?

A fresh chill crawled down her spine, and she hurried forward, stepping out onto the porch. The early morning air was cool against her skin, the silence of dawn heavy, broken only by the distant chirping of birds and the distant hum of the town beginning to stir.And then she saw him.Asher wasn’t gone.He stood just a few feet away, his broad shoulders rigid, his body utterly still. He was facing someone—a woman. And not just any woman.The TV anchor.The same one from last night.

A cold, drowning sensation seized Andrea’s chest, the same fear and trepidation from before threatening to drag her under. Her breath hitched, a painful knot forming in her throat. But she forced herself to breathe, to push down the panic clawing at her.

Believe in him.She had to believe in him.He had told her last night—he would always choose this. He would choose her.She wanted to believe him. She needed to believe him.

Yet, as she watched the scene unfold, doubt whispered cruelly in her mind.The woman was speaking to him, her voice sharp and urgent, though Andrea couldn’t hear the words. The reporter’s gestures were quick, almost frantic, her tone demanding—accusing. And Asher…He wasn’t saying anything.Not a single word.

He just stood there, his entire body frozen, like a man who had just been struck by lightning. His face had drained of all color, his dark eyes wide and unblinking, staring at the woman with an intensity that made Andrea’s stomach twist.Shock.That was what she saw first. A raw, breath-stealing shock that turned his expression into something unrecognizable.

But there was something else beneath it.Rage.A deep, simmering fury that flickered behind his dark eyes like a barely contained storm. His jaw was clenched so tightly, Andrea could see the muscles ticking beneath his skin. His hands—those strong, capable hands that had held her so tenderly only hours ago—were balled into fists at his sides.And yet, he said nothing.

The TV anchor kept speaking, her words growing more intense, more insistent, her hands moving in sharp, agitated motions as she demanded something from him. But Asher?He just stood there.Silent.Unmoving.
Just when it seemed he was finally about to speak, Asher’s eyes shifted—past the woman, past whatever thoughts had kept him frozen—and landed on Andrea.Standing in the doorway.Barefoot. Wearing his shirt. Her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, her expression unreadable in the soft morning light.

For a moment, he stilled again, something flickering in his gaze. And then, as if a decision had been made in an instant, he turned—abruptly, decisively—walking away from the woman and toward Andrea instead.

Behind him, the TV anchor’s voice cut through the morning air, sharp with disbelief. “wait—”But he didn’t wait.He didn’t pause.Didn’t spare her a single glance.“You are mistaken, Ms. Pierce,” he said at last, his voice clipped, cold as steel.Andrea had never heard him speak like that before.

His words were laced with finality, as if he were shutting a door on something much bigger than just this conversation.
As he reached Andrea, he didn’t stop moving. He simply slid an arm around her waist, pulling her into the house with him as if sealing her inside, away from whatever ghosts lingered outside. But even as he did, he turned back one last time, leveling the woman with a stare so cold, so sharp, it could have shattered glass.“I do not wish to speak of this again.”His voice held no room for argument.“I would prefer if you do not come back here again.”The words weren’t a request. They were a warning.

Ms. Pierce’s expression twisted in fury. Her perfectly painted lips parted, as if she had more to say, but whatever words she was about to spit out died on her tongue under the weight of his icy gaze.Her manicured fingers clenched at her sides, nails digging into the fabric of her tight black skirt. “You have no idea what you’re doing,” she hissed.But Asher didn’t reply.He didn’t blink.He simply shut the door.

Locked it.
Andrea heard the sharp click of the lock sliding into place, but it wasn’t just the physical barrier that made her shiver. It was the sense of finality in Asher’s movements, the way he exhaled through his nose like he was barely holding himself together.She turned to him, searching his face, but his jaw was locked tight, his blue eyes glinting like frozen shards of ice.And outside, behind that locked door, fate had already started shifting.

Because neither of them knew yet—this moment, this early morning encounter, would set off a chain reaction that would tear their world apart.Like a train wreck waiting to happen.