With a wink and a flash of his crooked smile, he disappears into the bathroom.

Thank God the mirror can’t show him my earlier reflection and tell him to run.

Just when I was starting to feel confident enough to give in to my feelings of attraction and trust for Asher, now I feel slammed with sexual insecurities.

What if he’s disappointed after waiting almost eight years? Maybe he thought my body would get back to normal much faster. What if I don’t know how to please him sexually?

Teddy stares at me from the floor and puts his paw on my knee.

“What do you think, Teddy? Do you think I’m pretty?” He jumps up on the bed and licks my face until I giggle.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” I say, and he curls up next to me, seemingly pleased with himself for making me smile.

Tonight is supposed to be a fun night, so before I let myself go down the rabbit hole of insecurity, I grab the journal I brought in here, hoping it will distract me.

Dear Diary,

Guess who I am? Mrs. Asher Valentine. Oh my God, I can’t stop writing it and saying it. We had a small wedding, just our closest family and friends. My parents didn’t come. No surprise there. :( I’m over it.

Asher’s dad walked me down the aisle. He’s been more of a father to me, anyway. Ronnie sat me down before the wedding and we had a long talk. He told me to always be me. To be a good mother and wife, but never lose myself. He told me to love Asher with all my heart, always be honest, but put him in his place when he needs it. He told me to be patient when marriage gets hard. He told me to never forget that Asher and I are best friends, and sometimes we will fail—both together and separate. He told me to always learn from our experiences, and always strive for happiness above all else. He told me to never yell, never say hurtful things, and never part angry.

I can see where Asher has gotten all his good qualities. We have our own apartment now, and Tor lives upstairs in the loft. I love Tor, he’s like a brother to me. He’s such a big help to me and Asher. Kenzi is just crazy about him. Sometimes I think she loves Tor more than she loves us.

Now we can really pursue our dreams. Our band has been playing a few local gigs. We actually got paid! It’s like a dream. It’s hard, though. I thought it might be easier after we graduated, but now we work more. It’s hard to raise a baby, work, practice, write songs, clean the apartment, spend time together, see our friends. But we’re doing it.

I just want to make sure that no matter what, Asher gets to practice and write songs. I refuse to let anything get in the way of his dreams. He’s so incredibly talented, and I just know someday he’s going to be famous. I love music, but I know I could live without it and be happy doing something else as long as I have my husband and our daughter. Asher can’t. Music is his world. He was born to sing, just like his dad.

Back to the wedding—it was beautiful and our honeymoon was amazing. It was sweet, fun, and romantic and we came home even more in love. I love my husband. ??

On the next page is a pencil sketch of a wedding cake, with Asher and Ember dancing in the background. A few pages later, there’s a detailed sketch of a butterfly in colored pencil.

Hm. So I did like to draw when I was younger. Judging from these little examples here, I was actually quite good at it. These drawings are super detailed with shading, light, and shadows.

A few days ago, I started to read the journals out of order, skipping around the entries and years, rather than reading them chronologically. I wanted to read more about Ember as an adult. This particular entry isn’t as far in the future as I was hoping to read, but at least it wasn’t boring day-to-day stuff like what she had for lunch or bought at the mall.

I grip the edges of the journal when Asher comes out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a black towel wrapped low around his waist. Sinfully low. My heart skips a beat, and my thigh muscles clench as I peek at him from behind the book. He’s all muscle, wild hair, and dark art as he swaggers across the room to his dresser. Even his ass looks perfect beneath that towel. Hard and round and—

“How’s the reading going?”

Tearing my eyes off him, I close the book and put it off to the side.