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Chapter 117

Chapter 116

Discovering Us Spin-Off: Introspection

ASHER

My mom’s conversation with Maddy sends me into a tailspin. In my panic, I decide it’s best to leave and take Maddy home. The topic of protection is a necessary one, but whether it was my mom or Maddy who initiated the conversation is beyond me at this moment.

Regardless, if we address the need for precautions against pregnancy now, it will prevent misunderstandings and arguments later. My parents have always stressed the importance of communication.

I wait until we’re in the car to bring up the topic, speaking in a calm and measured tone.

“Maddy, I think we need to discuss how to prevent pregnancy,” I say as I merge onto the main road.

She tenses up but responds calmly.

“Okay… I have the implant. I got it at the treatment center, but we can use condoms too if you want,” she offers.

I’m proud of us for having a mature conversation about this.

“That’s good to hear. I was worried about last night. I don’t think either of us is ready for a child when we still have so much personal growth to do,” I admit.

She agrees, then adds, “To be honest, Asher… I’m not sure I want children.”

She keeps her gaze forward, avoiding eye contact. I feel bad that she’s uncomfortable admitting this, but she doesn’t need to be.

I’ve never wanted kids before either, and even though the thought has crossed my mind, I don’t need children to be happy.

“I feel the same way. Kids never really appealed to me…” I confess.

“But you’d make such a good father,” she counters.

“Just because I’d be good at it doesn’t mean I should do it,” I reply with a shrug.

She nods and falls silent, the car filling with unspoken thoughts.

I can sense her uncertainty, and I’m undecided too, but that doesn’t mean we’re ready to raise a child.

I’ve always said I don’t want kids, but a small part of me wonders if I’ll have a family someday.

Regardless, we’re on the same page right now, and that eliminates any confusion or misconceptions about not wanting a child at this point.

A wave of relief washes over me, knowing that we were more protected last night than I thought. I can’t help but smile and chuckle.

Relief is a funny thing…

“You didn’t eat. Want to hit a drive-thru?” I ask, reaching for her clenched hand.

She relaxes her grip and intertwines her fingers with mine.

“I’m not really hungry…” she murmurs.

“Ice cream?” I suggest.

“No, thanks.”

“Cake?” I try again.

“No, thanks.”

“Cheesecake?” I offer, naming all the sweet treats my mom and sisters enjoy.

“What kind?” she asks, a small but meaningful smile on her face.

It seems Maddy likes cheesecake, and luckily, there’s a cheesecake factory not far from home.

I file this information away, proud of myself for discovering one of her weaknesses.

“Why don’t we go see what they have and decide?” I suggest.

“Okay,” she agrees.

We drive in silence to the small strip of shops near our house. The music fills the silence, and Maddy’s thumb gently strokes the back of my hand, calming both of us.

She visibly relaxes, and her earlier worries seem to fade, if only temporarily.

I park in front of the cheesecake factory and guide Maddy inside to the display of cheesecakes.

I take note of the ones she lingers on, storing away her preferences for future reference.

It’s important to know these things, as my dad often reminds me.

This knowledge can be useful after arguments or during her monthly cycle when her hormones might be out of whack.

And buying these treats can often help soothe a woman’s mood.

She ends up choosing the blueberry cheesecake, which happens to be one of my favorites.

We get our order to go, and I decide to take her home.

But instead of going up to our apartment, we stop at the entrance level and head to the gardens.

There are a few tables scattered around, and luckily, they’re all empty.

I guide her to a seat and then head off to fetch some actual forks for our cheesecake feast.

When I come back, I catch her gazing out at the pond, watching the fish.

They’re swimming around, basking in the warmth of the sun. She seems entranced by their movements.

I know this is a soothing sight for her.

She once told me about how she’d watch the fish in the tank at the center to help calm her nerves.

It’s clear she’s still feeling anxious, maybe even a bit overwhelmed.

I can’t help but wonder if I brought her home too soon.

That’s on me, though, because I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her there, where she might run away—something I’m not ready to face.

“Fork,” I say, holding it out to her to bring her back to the present.

She smiles and takes the fork, turning her attention to the cheesecake.

I sit across from her and dig into my own slice, savoring it as always.

“I’m sorry I brought you home, that it triggered you so soon after getting home,” I say.

“It’s okay. It was silly, really. But like your mom said, the real world is nothing like the center.”

“Yeah, Mom’s pretty wise. She’s been to a center a few times herself. You two have a lot in common,” I tell her.

“I know, she told me. It’s nice, and she seems willing to help me. Actually, all of you do,” she says, sounding almost surprised.

“You’re worth helping, Maddy.”

“I wish I could convince my brain of that…”

“I get it; my brain fights me too. I think that’s why I got hooked on drugs. They kind of silenced that part of me.”

“Your mom was worried you might have started using again… You haven’t, have you?”

Her question catches me off guard, and it makes me wonder if she’s against drug use.

Could that be a deal breaker for her?

A boundary she doesn’t want crossed?

I’m not brave enough to ask because I think I already know the answer.

But I made a promise to stay clean, and from what I’ve heard, Ebony’s been sticking to her sobriety too.

So I guess I’m staying clean.

“No. I haven’t used since the night I promised Ebony I’d get clean with her,” I say.

“She’s still clean, you know…”

“Mom told me. She’s doing well back home.”

Maddy nods; they’ve maintained a close bond, talking every few days.

I guess sharing a traumatic experience can create a lifelong connection.

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