Special One [The One Series - Part 1]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 -21

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Date- 27 September 2020

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Dove Alexander Anderson's Pov
(Asher's Mother)

On this splendid day, as I stood by the window, my eyes were drawn to the lush beauty of the garden beyond, a display of nature's creativity that unfolded before the entrance of my home. Caring for plants, a passion of mine provides not just an enjoyable hobby but also acts as a soothing remedy for the tired mind, a natural cure that eases the frayed edges of stress with each step taken amidst the graceful dance of beautiful flora. Remembering my pregnancy with Asher brings a smile to my face; those days were spent nestled in the green embrace of the garden, envisioning and shaping its design—a task that reflected the life I was nurturing within.

However, I still carry a sense of remorse for the secretive nature of my relationship with Xander at that time. His rapid rise in the business world garnered both admiration and criticism. Despite his wealth and fame, we chose to keep our connection hidden from the public, a choice that required us to also hide our love from my father—a decision that still troubles me. The secrecy was a unique situation, never to be repeated, yet the sadness of my father never witnessing the happiness between Xander and me remains a poignant reminder of what could have been. Perhaps it was fate that he remained unaware of our bond.

Life is a tapestry of contrasting threads, woven with moments of exultant joy and profound sorrow. That was the day Xander proposed marriage—an apex of happiness where I felt elevated to an ethereal realm of bliss. Yet, the resolve to bring transparency to our relationship with my father was met with silence from Xander. It was only upon our arrival at my family home that he pledged his support in seeking my father's blessing. The elation of that commitment was short-lived, shattered by the discovery of my father's lifeless form—an event that plunged me into darkness and despair.

After such a tragedy, my life was shattered, causing a delay in our wedding. Xander's proposal, five months later, found me lost in grief and doubt. The realization that life had stopped, frozen in the moment of my father's passing, prompted me to reassess. Recognizing that I had become a hindrance not only to my growth but also to Xander's, I decided to embrace the future and agreed to marry.

Our partnership signified the start of a fresh phase, where we created a home reflecting our shared dreams. Xander, aware of my love for design, allowed me the freedom to shape the look of our house, but he urged me to avoid physical strain. Our life together was perfect, but the memory of my father, a model of paternal goodness, still influenced my happiness.

With a heavy heart, I push aside these thoughts, trying to focus on the present, on the beauty of the garden that used to bring me comfort, and on the life I've created with Xander—a life that, despite its challenges, still shows the strength of love and the resilience of the human spirit.

I watered the delicate leaves, watching the green foliage reflect the sun's warmth. After that, I went to the living room to watch "Stranger Things," a series that has captivated me with its portrayal of young friends caught up in supernatural events and government conspiracies. Their quest for answers takes them through a maze of mysteries, a storyline that I find very exciting.

About an hour into watching the visual feast, my concentration was suddenly broken by a loud noise at the door. When I looked up, I couldn't help but smile as my son, Asher, entered the room. I jokingly asked him, "Hey, did you forget about your schoolwork again, Asher? Don't you realize how upset that would make your father?"

The bond that Asher shares with Xander and me is one of profound affection, for he is the living testament to our love, the heart of our world. Despite the notoriety that shadows him, reminiscent of his father's less mature days, Asher's demeanour remains grounded, averse to the trappings of entitlement. Even Xander's attempts to lavish upon him have been met with a measured restraint on Asher's part.

Mom, not now, please," he said, walking towards his sanctuary. My smile faded, feeling the storm beneath his calm. Yet, maternal instinct urged me to ask, "Asher, my dear, you know you can confide in me if something is wrong, right?"

His silence weighed on me, heavy on my heart, as it was unlike him to ignore my concern. I quickly reached out and grabbed his hand, only to be met with a strong rejection as he pushed my touch away.

"Asher, my dear—" I began, only to be interrupted by his raised voice, an anomaly in our interactions." NOT NOW, MOM," he bellowed, casting my hand aside.

"Baby," I murmured, the urge to weep nigh overwhelming, yet I withheld the tears. A moment of reflection seemed to wash over him, and with a softened gaze, he offered an apology, pressing a kiss to my forehead before retreating to his chamber, the sound of the door's closure echoing his turmoil.

Resuming my place on the sofa, I was awash with concern, for such outbursts were foreign to Asher's nature. He, who had always been mischievous yet respectful, had never once raised his voice in such a manner.

'What might have happened today?' I wondered, my mind filled with uncertainty. With a heavy heart, I went to the kitchen to prepare his favourite meal. Before I could focus on the task, a servant arrived with news of Blake's arrival. Quickly washing my hands, I hurried to greet him, hoping he could provide insight into Asher's distress.

"Blake," I called out, stopping him on his way to Asher's quarters.

As he recognized me, Blake approached with an embrace, his greeting warm yet casual. Without delay, I expressed my concern, "I'm fine, but do you happen to know the reason for Asher's unease?"

""Has he told you anything?" he asked.

"No, he just... snapped at me," I admitted, my voice tinged with unease.

Blake muttered to himself, a hint of frustration evident before he assured me, "He's just had a bad day. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

With that, he left for Asher's room, leaving me in the wake of his assurance, yet still enveloped in the mystery of my son's distress.

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Words - 1290

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