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I can barely think. I can’t process it. I’d fled Caspian’s apartment the moment I got the text and driven here with only one goal; find out who sent the pictures. My parents are less than forthcoming with information.
“Please,” I try again as Dad falls silent. “Can I just?—”
“Asher?” Dad yells loudly, spinning sharply on his heel. “Out of all the men in the world, somehow you end up fucking Asher?”
My spine recoils slightly upon hearing my father speak so callously and my pounding heart vibrates just below my jaw.
“Do you have any idea how many people saw that picture? My work email is monitored!”
His work email? Someone sent it to his work email. As clues go, I have no idea how that helps me but at least it’s something.
“We should call the police,” Mom whimpers. “And the school. Report him. This surely breaks so many rules. We trusted him, he’s supposed to be a friend and instead, he’s out here defiling our daughter!” She collapses into another round of sobs while a strange static invades my ears. All their words are fuzzy because despite my pain, despite my shame at facing down my parents like this, one thing is clear.
Asher doesn’t deserve to take punishment for this.
“No,” I snap, allowing some of my frustration to leak through. “Asher’s done nothing wrong, don’t you understand that? We’re all consenting adults and what we get up to in private is none of your business!”
“He’s old enough to be your father!” Dad yells and he slams his hand into the side of the wall unit this time. All of the precious china inside jumps at the shock, as do I.
“You can’t report him. There’s not even anything to report,” I continue hurriedly. “I don’t even want to be at that school. I don’t like writing. I don’t want a stuffy job in an office writing for some shady company just because you both want me to. I want to take pictures of beautiful people doing beautiful things and you know what?”
My voice rises louder and louder.
“I’m good at it. I’m fucking great at it. I’m an amazing photographer and I’m amazing at making people feel at ease and relaxed. I have a talent for it and I want to pursue it. The only reason I gave a shit about that school is because you both forced me to?—”
My mother’s palm collides forcefully with my cheek, silencing my anxious tirade as my head snaps to the side. A deathly silence falls and heat blooms out from the point of impact. My heart stops briefly in my chest and a new pain swells in my chest. It grows louder and louder, taking up so much space that I can barely breathe. When I swallow, an iron tang coats my tongue. My stomach ties itself into knots, and my knuckles scream from the strength of my own grip.
Then, there’s rapid knocking at the front door and my father strides away to answer it.
“No,” Dad growls loudly. “Not you, get the fuck out of my house. Hey!”
The door of the lounge flies open, and Asher stumbles in, his eyes wide. I glimpse him out of the corner of my eye, a wobbly mirage through the tears spilling over my lashes.
“Emma!”
“You!” Mom gasps and she turns away from me. “Get out before I call the police!”
“Emma!” Asher’s warm hand brushes my bare elbow and his touch is molten. I can’t move. I’m held in place by the pain blooming from my mother’s strike and I’m too ashamed to let him see me like this.
“Caspian called me. He told me what happened and that you left. I knew you would come here, but you shouldn’t have done it alone.” Asher’s voice is low and soft, as if sharing a secret, but it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing I can do.
My life is falling apart around me.
“Get your hands off my daughter!” Dad roars and he charges forward. He doesn’t reach Asher. My mother intervenes in time and holds him back.
I lift my head. Asher’s brown eyes brim with concern, then his face hardens as his gaze lands on the flaring pain across my face. His touch to my elbow becomes a grip and he turns to my parents.
“You hit her?”
“How I discipline my child is no concern of yours,” Mom spits like a hissing snake. “Because she’s a child, did you forget that?”
“She’s twenty-two,” Asher snaps back. “And perfectly capable of making her own decisions. We both are. She is a gorgeous, wonderful, kind and caring soul with a heart of gold which is why it was so easy for me to fall for her. I don’t know what you’ve seen or what you think you know but Emma is cared for deeply, and if you have any inkling of compassion in your heart for your own child, that is all that would matter.”
“You have no right!” Dad yells. “No right to my daughter!”
“A right?” Asher snorts dryly. “She’s not a piece of property. She’s a person and she’s happy. How dare you stand there and try to act like you have some moral high ground after you’ve assaulted her!”
Their argument rages back and forth, but oddly it seems far away from me. Like it’s in the distance and I’m watching from afar. My chest hurts. My face hurts.
