Chapter 207: I Want What He Has Too

Ember's POV

The night before Evan left, I made dinner for him at home. Evelyn adored her big brother figure — Evan would patiently sit with her to build blocks, and explain how computer chips were made in words a little kid could follow. Evelyn didn't understand a single word of it, but that didn't stop her from thinking he was pretty amazing.

Asher sat alone on the living room couch. He watched me busying around in the kitchen, then looked over at Evan on the floor, happily playing with Evelyn. That familiar bitterness was clearly creeping back up on him.

He stood up, walked to the kitchen doorway and asked, "Need any help?"

I glanced back at him, skepticism written all over my face. "You can cook?"

"No," Asher said.

"So you're here to get in my way?"

"I could keep you company."

"I don't need that." I waved him off without looking up. "Go sit down. You're just going to be in the way in here."

Asher didn't move. He stayed leaning against the doorframe, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You sure put in a lot of effort for him. Even cooking personally. How come you've never cooked a meal like this for me?"

"He's been here for two weeks and solved who knows how many core technical problems for Hart Group. The least I can do is cook him a proper meal."

"Right," Asher muttered under his breath.

A little later, dinner was ready. Evan carved the chicken while he and I talked through the next phase of the technical plan, the two of us deep in conversation.

Asher sat there quietly working through his Yorkshire pudding. Evelyn was perched in her highchair beside him, her little arms too short to reach the cranberry sauce at the other end of the table. She stretched out her small hand and tugged at Asher's sleeve. "Uncle, I want some of that."

Asher snapped out of it. He spooned some cranberry sauce into a small dish for Evelyn, then carefully spread it across her pudding with a dinner knife so she wouldn't end up with it all over her face.

Evelyn held her pudding and looked up at him. "Uncle, why are you unhappy?"

"I'm not unhappy," Asher said, managing a stiff half-smile.

"You're fibbing." Evelyn swallowed her bite and called him out in a hushed voice. "Your eyes look angry."

Asher blinked, then let out a quiet laugh. He reached over and ruffled her hair. "You're a sharp one, aren't you."

After dinner, Evan got up to say goodbye. I took out a small black velvet box I'd prepared and handed it to him. "You've worked hard this whole time. Just a little something."

Evan opened it to find a beautiful fountain pen nestled inside — he was always writing things down in the lab, so it was just right for him.

He grinned at me, eyes crinkling. "You really didn't have to."

"You earned it," I told him with a smile.

Evan happily tucked the pen into his bag, flashing two little canine teeth. "Thank you, I'll take good care of it." He turned and waved cheerfully at Evelyn. "Bye, Evelyn! Next time you come to Germany, I'll have her bring you chocolate from Munich."

Evelyn smiled sweetly. "Bye, big brother."

Evan gave a final nod toward Asher. "Alpha, take care."

Asher nodded back, flat-faced — the bare minimum of a response.

I finished cleaning up the kitchen and came out to find Asher still on the couch. He was holding one of Evelyn's picture books, flipping through the pages with a restless snap.

"You're still here?" I asked, surprised.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He closed the book.

I dried my hands on a dish towel, looking at him, puzzled. "You've been acting strange since dinner. What's going on?"

"Nothing." He stood up and tossed the book onto the coffee table. "I'm going to sleep in the guest room."

My mouth fell open. I almost said something, but let it go. Fine. He wanted to give me the silent treatment, we'd see who could outlast who.

---

Asher's POV

I sat quietly in the guest room waiting, and when I heard a sound at the door I jumped up to open it — only to find Evelyn. The little girl was standing there in her pink bunny pajamas, clutching a fat picture book.

She looked up at me, her voice soft and round. "Uncle, Mommy seems really tired tonight. She read me one little bit and fell asleep. Will you finish reading the story?"

I bent down, scooped her up, and set her on the bed, then opened the picture book, its edges worn soft from all her handling.

Once she'd settled in, Evelyn suddenly turned and looked at me, quite serious. "Uncle, are you unhappy?"

"Evelyn — do you think your mom might end up liking Evan?"

Evelyn tilted her head and thought hard about this, then gave a firm shake of her head. "No."

"Why not?" I pressed.

"He's too young. Mommy doesn't like young guys," she said, very matter-of-fact.

I didn't know whether to feel better or worse.

Evelyn seemed to read right through me. "Uncle, are you sad because you think Mommy likes him?"

I didn't answer.

Evelyn sighed with a wisdom far beyond her years and nodded. "I thought so. Don't worry, Uncle. There's absolutely no way Mommy would get together with him."

"What do you know about it?"

"Mommy said if she ever finds me a new dad, she'll ask me first." Evelyn lifted her chin proudly.

I pulled her into my arms the second she finished. "Then how about Uncle becomes your new dad?"

Evelyn threw her arms around my neck without a moment's hesitation. "Okay!"

I kissed her cheek, delighted. "Good girl."

---

The next morning I got up early on purpose and made Ember breakfast. But she was still carrying her mood from the night before — she didn't touch the food, and she didn't say a word to me at the table.

Something felt off. After Ember left, I quietly asked Evelyn, "What's going on with your mom today?"

Evelyn swallowed her mouthful and told me, "Mommy seems mad at you."

That sent me into a spiral. What had I done to make her angry? The more I turned it over, the only thing I could land on was going off to the guest room on my own last night — but I hadn't really done anything wrong, had I? I wanted to ask her directly, but she didn't give me a single opening all day.

So that evening, Evelyn came up with a plan.

On the third morning, I didn't get up and make breakfast like usual. I just lay in bed and didn't come downstairs.

After a while, I heard the door.

Ember came over. "What's wrong?"

"Headache." My voice came out low and muffled, the picture of misery. "My whole body hurts."

She walked over, pressed a hand to my forehead, then without any sympathy at all, grabbed the blanket I'd pulled over my face and yanked it away.

"Fever?"

"...Maybe a little."

"Asher. How old are you? Get up and eat."