But they don't. The doorbell rings a third time, followed by a heavy knock.
Asher exhales sharply and shifts me off his lap. "I'll get rid of them."
He stands and adjusts his sweatpants, running a hand through his hair as he walks to the front door. I stay on the couch, my heart still racing, my body still humming with want.
I hear the door open. Then voices. Low, formal. Male. I hear someone ask if he's Asher Stevens. Something in my chest tightens. I get up and walk to the entryway. Two police officers stand on our front porch, their uniforms dark against the porch light. One is older, maybe in his fifties, with graying hair and a weathered face. The other is younger, mid-thirties, holding a small notebook.
"May we come in?"
"Uh, sure." Asher steps aside, and the officers enter.
They glance at me.
"This is my wife, Julie," Asher says.
"Hello, ma'am. I'm Officer Daniels, and this is Officer Kwan."
"Um, hello."
“Is there somewhere we can sit?" the older officer asks.
"Living room," Asher says, gesturing.
We all move into the living room. The TV is still on, the crime show playing to no one. Asher picks up the remote and mutes it. The silence feels heavy.
"Mr. Stevens, We're here because there's been an accident."
Asher doesn't sit. He stands near the couch, his arms crossed, so I stand next to him. "What kind of accident?" he asks.
"Your father and his wife were involved in a collision earlier this evening. I'm very sorry to inform you that they both died at the scene."
The words hang in the air, and I feel the floor tilt beneath me. My hand goes to the back of the couch to steady myself. Asher doesn't move or speak. He just stares at Officer Daniels, his expression blank.
"What happened?" I hear myself ask.
Officer Daniels turns to me. "They were driving on the highway when another vehicle forced them off the road. The car went over the guardrail and fell approximately seventy feet. The impact was... not survivable."
"Forced them off the road?" I repeat. "You mean someone hit them?"
"Correct. It was a hit and run. Witnesses reported seeing a truck speeding away from the scene. We're investigating, but we don't have a suspect at this time."
I look at Asher. He's still standing there, arms crossed, his face unreadable. It’s like a bomb just went off and he’s in shock and isn’t really processing everything that’s happening.
"Mr. Stevens," Officer Kwan says gently. "Do you need a moment?"
"No." Asher's voice is flat. "I’m just… I'm fine. What do you need from me?"
Officer Daniels exchanges a glance with his partner. "We'll need someone to make a formal identification. And there are arrangements that will need to be made. The medical examiner's office will be in touch."
"Okay."
The officers then hand Asher a card with contact information before expressing their condolences again, and then they're gone. The front door closes behind them, and the house falls silent. Asher walks back into the living room and picks up his phone from the coffee table.
"Asher," I say softly.
He doesn't respond. He's scrolling through his contacts, his thumb moving quickly across the screen.
"Asher."
