Fifty Seven

Asher’s POV

Tonight was off with a very dull start, or maybe it was the way I was feeling that caused this.

The club's pulsing lights and the sound of the music should have been enough to distract me, but there I was, slouched in the VIP section, phone in hand, scrolling mindlessly. I just wasn’t interested in anything, and I have absolutely no idea why I was feeling that way.

Brent was off to the side, chatting up some girl who seemed more interested in his wallet than his charm, but I barely noticed. My thoughts were elsewhere. I felt like I was trapped in a loop that always circled back to May, thinking about her, comparing women I see to her, and closing my eyes to see her behind them.

There was one thing I kept seeing though, something I couldn’t quite shake off. I couldn't shake the image of her signing those papers, the way her eyes had been filled with resignation and hurt. That sight was supposed to help me move on, it was supposed to give me relief, and space, but all it did