"Lois? What’s wrong?" Asher’s smile faded as he noticed my tears. His eyes dropped to my wrist, where the angry red marks stood out against my skin. His voice trembled. "How did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?!"
For a moment, I wondered if he was truly concerned or just playing his part. I said nothing, pulling my arm away.
It felt like he'd completely wiped the banquet from his mind. I stayed quiet, not sure if I should bring it up and ruin the act he was putting on.
“All right, stop crying now. Let me grab the first aid kit,” Asher said with a sigh as he gently patted my head, trying to comfort me.
He walked off, muttering to himself. “Look at you—tough on the outside, but always crying over the smallest things. What would you do without me?”
I stared down at the rash on my wrist, the angry red patches starting to spread. It was burning, and the itching was unbearable.
“What would I do without him?” I thought bitterly. Pfff!
For five years, I’d let myself believe in his love. But now, the truth stung more than the rash on my skin.
“But, Asher,” I whispered to myself, “I don’t want this sick kind of love anymore… I don’t want you anymore.”