Chapter 112

ASHER

Once again, I’m wide awake in the dead of night. I had hoped that having Maddison by my side would keep my insomnia at bay. But while she helped me drift off to sleep, she couldn’t keep me there.

I guess I was a bit foolish to think that the girl I’ve been pining over for months could magically cure my sleepless nights, but here I am at four in the morning, awake and watching her sleep, her body pressed against mine after making love just a few hours ago.

She’s breathtaking, but that’s not news to me. So much has transpired between us that it feels like we’ve run from opposite ends of a field just to meet in the middle.

Our reunion was so built up that it felt a bit anticlimactic, but still enjoyable and incredibly mentally draining. Maddison was hesitant about coming home with me.

She thought it might be better to stay in one of the houses, similar to the one Mama had taken me to. I wasn’t a fan of that idea, but I had to persuade her that coming home to my apartment was the best decision for both of us.

Of course, none of us can predict the future, which is exactly why I want to cherish every moment with Maddy while I can. I’m afraid she’ll realize she could do better without me.

Maybe she’ll find someone more compatible, someone who can offer her a brighter future than I can. Sure, she’ll be financially secure with me.

There’s no question about that, especially since my trust fund was reinstated and the ridiculous rule of working to survive was temporarily discarded, but I’ve never been emotionally available before. And that could be an issue.

But I’m driven by the medication and the psychiatrist who believes I can lead a “normal” life. ~What is a normal life?~ I wonder. ~What does that even mean?~

No one knows; there’s no concrete answer because there’s no universal definition of normal. It’s absurd, really.

Society seeks normality, yet we’re all unique. Every single person is distinct in their own way.

Yet, as a society, we set limits that confine individuals to a standard of normality that doesn’t accommodate individuality. I never understood that before, and I never gave it much thought until I received a diagnosis that has impacted me more than I ever imagined.

Part of me feels somewhat abnormal. But a significant part of me feels more human, more connected to Atty than ever before.

Which is odd, considering we’re identical twins. And don’t even get me started on that.

Twins, especially identical twins, are believed to be identical in every way. But I’ve found that while we may look nearly identical, our fingerprints are unique.

Our voices are distinct. Even the color of our eyes isn’t an exact match.

Yes, to the untrained eye, we appear identical in every way, but under a microscope, there are countless differences that make you question how being an identical twin from two cells can defy the odds.

The alarm pulls me from my thoughts, shattering the peaceful silence with the loud sound of waves crashing on a beach. It’s now six o’clock in the morning, and I’ve spent two hours lost in thought, holding onto the girl who stumbled into my life by chance.

She stirs as I jump. Her breath catches in her throat, her body tensing as she opens her eyes to the early morning light streaming in through the glass wall.

“Good morning,” I manage to say through a sleepy yawn.

“Morning,” she responds shyly, glancing down at her naked body, which she hasn’t yet seen as the masterpiece I see it as.

Love bites are scattered across her skin, a testament to my presence last night, marking my emotions on the girl as she lay beneath me for the first time as a willing participant.

As I’ve mentioned… I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on everything that’s happened, including meeting and being with Maddy before last night.

“I have a meeting with my therapist,” I confess, feeling a bit embarrassed. I hate that I need a therapist, but then again, it seems like most of society does these days.

“Want to come to my parents’? Maybe we can go for a drive afterward?” I suggest, offering what she had asked for on her first full day in the treatment center.

Sure, I still see a therapist. I mean, I’d rather deal with my issues there than bring them home where everyone knows me. Does that sound weird?

“Maybe.” Maddy sits up to stretch.

I can’t help but watch as her breasts move with her, perking up as she stretches her arms above her head. The love bite I left on her breast peeks out, as if to say good morning.

She blushes when she catches me staring, quickly bringing her arms down and pulling her knees up to cover herself.

I don’t like that she feels the need to hide from me, and I tell her so.

“Maddy, you’re beautiful. I love seeing you like this. Want to join me in the shower?” I ask, standing up and extending my hand to her.

She hesitates for a moment before reaching out and taking my hand.

It’s a small victory, but her trust means everything to me. I lead her to the shower, my mind bouncing between washing her and the serious conversation we need to have.

I test the water with one hand while holding hers with the other—only guiding her under the stream once I’m sure it’s the right temperature.

I gently clean her, making sure to wash away the evidence of our night together that had dried between her legs as we slept.

I realize I hadn’t thought to use protection, and I hadn’t asked if she was still on birth control. That’s another conversation we’ll need to have today.

But for now, I’m just enjoying the morning after. I’m happy to be here with her—finally feeling complete again after missing her since the morning she left after our first time together.