I can see him struggling even worse, and I know this is going to be even harder than I imagined.

Unhooking my seatbelt and opening my door doesn’t even filter through his thoughts. My poor man is so lost right now. Once I’ve walked around to his side of the truck, I open the door; he doesn’t even look at me. Hell, I’m not even sure that he knows I’m standing here.

“Ash?” I question. “Asher.” I harden my tone and finally gain his attention.

He looks over at me, his eyes lost and haunted.

“Do you see me? I need to make sure you really see me right now and that you aren’t lost in the nightmare in your head.” He nods, his throat moving with his effort to control his emotions. “You are one of the strongest men I know, baby. I wish I could take your pain, ease your heart even for a second, but this is something you have to do for yourself. I’ll be by your side every second you’ll have me. All you have to do is take that first step. It’s going to be hard, but you’re not alone.”

I wait for him to gather his thoughts, hoping that I didn’t overstep. We’ve talked about Coop’s death almost nightly. I know all about his quest to bring down the man responsible, and it terrifies me. There’s a reason that he’s wanted by so many different law enforcement branches, and I’m shocked he’s still roaming free. That man is dangerous with a capitol D, and I’ve made it my mission to try and convince Asher that he doesn’t need to do this. It’s a battle I’m wholly committed to win.

“I miss him, Sunshine. My God, I miss him so much it feels like my chest is being split in two. I think about him, that damn cocky smile, his stupid jokes, and I wish…” he trails off, closing his eyes, lost in the memory of his brother.

I take a second to bat away the tears that are rolling down my cheeks, cursing my stupid hormones. Asher needs me to be strong right now, not my normal basket-case self that cries on the drop of a hat.

“I know, baby. I know.”

He opens his eyes, observing me with a look I’ve seen a few times on his face before. His hardness evaporates and his eyes turn soft.

“I love you, Sunshine,” he says softly.

My eyes widen, my mouth gapes at the words he’s just spoken, but my heart swells.

“And I love you, Asher.”

He gives me a sweet kiss, pulling back to rest his forehead against mine, a move I’m familiar with from him. He seems to take pleasure in just sitting like this, being close to me, and I love it.

“I’m ready.”

“One step at a time, okay? If you need to stop, we can come back later.”

He nods and climbs down from the cab. We walk hand in hand into Coop’s old house. I refuse to let his hand go, even when the grip becomes almost unbearable.

***

That day had to be one of the hardest. Witnessing him breakdown when he walked through the door, his huge frame crashing to his knees. A sound so heartbreaking slipping from his throat was almost my undoing. But when I hurried to kneel in front of him and saw the raw, unmasked pain in his eyes—the tears that were flowing down his face—I couldn’t hold back any longer. I pulled him into my arms and held him. I held my big, strong man while he purged himself of every ounce of grief he’d been holding in since he’d lost Coop. He cried for what felt like hours, my ass and legs going numb, my back killing me, and my arms shaking with the effort to hold him steady. You couldn’t have pulled me away if you’d tried.

I stayed by his side, just like I’d promised, and I tried to cover him in my light. Giving him what he needed—my love.

It took us hours and a few more breakdowns before we were able to even make a dent in packing up his brother’s memories. It was when I found him sitting on the edge of Coop’s bed, his pillow clutched in his arms and his sobs echoing around the room, that I knew we needed to go.

He didn’t fight me. I helped him out to the truck, into the passenger’s seat, and drove us back to my place—or rather our place since he pretty much is living there at this point. He was like a zombie the whole time, still clutching that damn pillow. Joe gave us a concerned look when we walked through the lobby door, but I waved him off with a small smile. He nodded his head and continued whatever he had been messing with on the computer.

That night, I fed a still silent Asher, put him in the shower with me, and tried my hardest to wash away the sadness that was coating him like a thick jacket. The whole time, I worried that he was slipping back into that darkness and I wouldn’t be able to get him back this time.