My Future Husband Hates Me

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You have a mole down there! And the length is

The next second, Asherthe schools untouchable ice kingsprints over. His hand clamps over my mouth. Hard.

Id traveled back ten years. I cornered Asher against the wall. I'm your future wife.

He shoved me off, his face like stone. Do I look like an idiot to you?

Chapter 1

"Believe me now?" I smirked.

Asher recovered his composure. The mask of indifference slid back into place. "Peeping is illegal."

Seriously? Thats his defense?

"Fine. You want to play hardball." I stepped closer. "When you were little, your dad hid his cash stash under your bed. You sold him out to your mom the next day for an ice cream cone."

"Your dog's name is Buddy. You broke your mom's new vase and framed the dog for it. Poor Buddy got a beating. And"

The flush crept up his neck. "Family gossip," he gritted out through clenched teeth. "Elders talk."

My jaw dropped. "That is not what you said in bed!"

Flashback.

We were watching a time-travel movie. I leaned into Ashers chest, soaking in the solid warmth. "If I traveled back in time, what if you didn't recognize me?"

He tried to be logical. "It's fiction, Reese."

I wasn't having it. I climbed on top of him. I grilled him all night. Until he cracked. He whispered those secrets. The ones nobody else knew.

Present.

What the hell? I stayed up all night for nothing?

I snapped back to reality. Asher was already halfway down the hall. His back was stiff. Rigid. He looked like he was fleeing a crime scene.

"Don't run! I have evidence!" I screamed. "I measured it! The length is"

Asher stumbled. He didn't look back. He ran faster. He vanished around the corner.

Heads turned. Eyes locked on me. The hallway buzzed with whispers.

I snapped my mouth shut. Frustrated. Suffocated.

I, Reese, had lived a charmed life. Parents spoiled me. Husband spoiled me. I even planned to sponge off my kids when I got old.

Excuse me? I had a job. My art commissions were booked two years out. I went to the mountains to sketch. To prove I wasn't just a trophy.

Then the earth roared.

The mountain collapsed.

Mud. Rock. Impact.

Chapter 2

I blinked.

The world spun and settled. I was back. Ten years ago.

I was standing in the middle of the hallway, clutching a pink love letter. The target? Brandon. My childhood best friend. The original red flag.

The crowd hovered like vultures, waiting for the show.

I knew the script. He would take the letter with that pitying smile. Hed tell me he only saw me as a "little sister." But he wouldn't let me go. Hed keep touching my hair, walking me home, blurring the lines until I was dizzy with hope. Then hed shove me back into the friend zone.

He was the only glitch in my otherwise perfect life.

Not this time.

Riiip.

I tore the pink envelope down the middle. Then in quarters. I tossed the scraps into the trash can.

Clean slate.

Target acquired: Future Husband. Asher.

He was the school legend. Top grades. Face like a sculpted god. Personality of an iceberg. He treated social interaction like a waste of oxygen.

Perfect. Less competition for me.

I thought it would be romantic. Making up for lost time. A high school sweetheart arc.

I was wrong.

Past Asher was a brick wall.

I brought him his favorite breakfast. Rejected.

I tried flirting. Ignored.

I asked him to tutor me. He gave me the textbook answer and walked away.

The moment he sniffed out my romantic interest, he ghosted me. To my face. My future husband would walk through fire for me. This version wouldn't even spit on me if I was burning.

I ground my teeth. If I ever get back to the future, you are sleeping on the couch, Asher.

But I was stuck here. My morale tanked.

I stopped trying. I stopped eating. I spent my breaks face-planted on my desk, too depressed to stalk him.

"Are you still sulking about Brandon?" Kayla popped up. My ride-or-die.

I lifted my head. "Why would I be mad at him?"

"You know. Him and the new girl. Scarlett." Kayla gave me the don't play dumb look.

Scarlett. The transfer student. Pretty. Smart. Main character energy. She had every guy in the school orbiting her. Including Brandon. That was why I wrote the letter in the first place. Panic. The fear of being replaced.

But I wasn't that desperate teenager anymore. They were just NPCs to me now.

I shook my head. "I don't care. Seriously. It has nothing to do with me."

"Reese, drop the act." The voice came from behind. Condescending. Familiar.

"You haven't walked home with me all week," Brandon said. "My mom made those snacks you like. They're going to waste."

I turned around. There he was. Handsome in that generic, popular-guy way. He looked at me with that tolerant, big-brother gaze. Look at the little girl throwing a tantrum.

God. I used to eat this up. I used to mistake this patronizing garbage for affection.

I rubbed my temples. "Brandon. I'm walking alone from now on. Stop coming to find me. Okay?"

His smile vanished. The temperature dropped.

"Reese. I know you're jealous because I helped Scarlett with her homework." He sighed, like he was carrying the weight of the world. "I'm the Class President. It's my duty to help new students integrate."

He stepped closer, invading my space. "Stop being such a brat. Okay?"

Chapter 3

The hallway was packed. The argument drew eyes like magnets. Even Asher stopped writing. He looked up. His gaze was liquid nitrogen.

A shiver ran down my spine. Oh, you want to play the "good guy"? Two can play that game.

I widened my eyes. Innocent. Sweet. Toxic. "I just think of you as a brother, Brandon. Why would I be mad?"

I let that hang in the air. "I'm not walking home with you because I have a crush on someone else. I don't want him to misunderstand our relationship."

I tilted my head. "You understand, right? A big brother would understand."

The crowd's collective gaze snapped to the window seat. To Asher.

He was already looking down. His profile was hard. Cold. He was attacking a math problem like it had personally offended him. But the tips of his ears were scarlet. Burning red.

Maybe it was the afternoon sun hitting him. Maybe.

Kaylas jaw hit the floor. "Wait. For real?"

Brandon stared at me. Assessing. He gave a cold, humorless smirk. "Suit yourself. Just don't come crying to me later."

Please. Id rather cry in a ditch.

---

School ended.

I grabbed Kayla and dragged her to the gate. We intercepted the target.

"Asher. Can you tutor us?"

He stopped. His face was a blank slate. I knew he was about to say no.

"I'll pay."

I saw a flicker in his eyes. I accepted the tragic reality. This wasn't the husband who doted on me yet. This was Asher, the scholarship kid. He needed the cash.

"Okay," he said. His voice was cool, clear water. He looked right at me. "But I'm strict."

I beamed. "Even better."

Kayla raised her hand. "Actually, I don't need"

I slapped my hand over her mouth. "We'll be there," I promised.

Asher stepped around us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his lips quirk up. Just a fraction. Then he was gone.

Kayla pulled my hand away. She looked ready to cry. "Why did you drag me into this? I hate studying!"

"Consider it helping a sister out," I soothed. "He wouldn't say yes if it was just me."

She sighed. Defeated. "Fine."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

In the last timeline, Kayla didn't study. She went to a community college. She met a man named Brett. He was a gambler. An abuser. A monster in human skin. Kayla had to peel off layers of herself just to survive the divorce.

She eventually rebuilt her life, but the scars were deep. She used to say, "If only I had studied harder."

Not this time. I was dragging her to the top with me.

We found an empty classroom. Every lunch. Every afternoon. Bootcamp began.

Chapter 4

Asher was a drill sergeant. Within a few days, Kayla looked like a withered houseplant.

I, however, was thriving. "Good job, Professor Asher."

My future husband didn't disappoint. He could explain one concept in three different ways until it stuck. He was better than those overpriced tutors at the learning centers. It gave me the perfect excuse to be near him.

And maybe I was imagining it, but he seemed to be thawing.

"Wake up. Time for class." The voice was low. Husky. It carried a trace of gentleness that I hadn't heard in this timeline.

My brain was still in a fog. My body moved on muscle memoryten years of muscle memory. I lifted my head. I leaned forward and pecked his cheek. "Hubby, shh. Five more minutes."

Silence.

Absolute, vacuum-sealed silence. The only sound was a faint bird chirping outside the window.

My eyes snapped open. Asher was looking away. But his earit was dripping with color. A violent, dark red that spread down his neck.

He didn't wait for me to explain. He stood up and walked out. Fast. Without a word.

I sat up, fully awake now. Something heavy slid off my shoulders. His school blazer. He had draped it over me while I slept.

My eyes lit up. "Asher! You totally like me!" I shouted at the empty door.

He didn't come back. But I was grinning like an idiot. I knew it. Beneath that iceberg exterior, he was soft.

---

My good mood lasted until the weekend. I went to the bookstore to grab some workbooks. Bad luck strikes when you least expect it.

Brandon and Scarlett.

They were standing by the fiction section. Leaning close. Sharing a book. It was a scene straight out of a romance manga. They were definitely in the "more than friends" phase.

I ducked behind a bookshelf. I would rather eat glass than interact with Brandon right now.

But of course, he had radar for me. He doubled back. "Reese. Are you still sulking?"

I stared at him. Speechless.

"Brandon. Relax. I won't tell your mom about your little girlfriend. Okay?"

His face tightened. Then, a thought seemed to cross his mind. His expression smoothed out into something smug. "Are you jealous?"

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Scarlett and I are just friends. You know you're the special one, Reese."

He gave me that look. The one that used to make my knees weak. "Stop pretending to chase someone else just to get a rise out of me. It's childish."

I almost laughed. I actually had to hold back a cackle. I took a deep breath. I looked him dead in the eye.

"Okay. Then cut ties with Scarlett. Can you do that?"

Brandon's lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't speak.

I let out a cold laugh. "So, you think I'd settle for a guy who wants to keep a harem? You think you can have your cake and eat it too?"

I stepped around him. "The audacity is impressive, Brandon. Get a grip."

I paid for my books and walked out. As I exited the store, I saw a shadow. A familiar back, disappearing around the corner.

It was gone in a second. Probably just my imagination.

---

Monday came.

Asher was back to factory settings. No. He was colder than before. Absolute zero.

He walked up to my desk and placed a stack of cash on it. Every cent I had paid him. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "I don't have time anymore."

It was a dismissal. A clear line drawn in the sand. He wanted to avoid me? Fine. It was that easy for him.

Kayla was no longer the girl who hated school. She was panicked. "Did you make Professor Asher mad? What do we do now?"

I looked at the money. "We deal with it."

Chapter 5

Moody. Unpredictable. Emotional constipation.

I was done babysitting him.

Kayla and I went back to our empty classroom sanctuary. If we got stuck on a problem, we saved it for the teacher or asked a random classmate. We grinded harder than ever.

The whole class sensed the shift in the atmosphere. The Great Wall of China had been rebuilt between Asher and me.

The gossipmongers couldn't resist. "Did you guys fight?"

"Who?"

"Asher."

I gave a cold, dry laugh. "We aren't close. Never were."

Asher didn't react. He didn't even blink.

Only Courtney, his desk mate, noticed the truth. His pen had stopped moving. It hovered over the paper, frozen in mid-air.

---

Coach Keith blew the whistle. Lap one.

The track seemed to stretch into infinity. Black spots danced in my peripheral vision. Then, they took over. My blood sugar crashed. My knees gave out. The world tilted sideways.

"Coach! Reese is down!"

"Someone get her to the nurse!"

Then came the scent. Crisp soap. Clean laundry. Winter air. Asher.

"I've got her." Coach Keith waved him on.

I tried to shove him away. My hands were weak, fluttering uselessly against his chest. "I don't need your help," I slurred. "I can walk."

"Reese. Stop moving." He ignored my struggle. He scooped me up onto his back. His voice was low. Cold. But his grip was iron.

"Who do you think you are?" I muttered, head spinning.

Silence.

He let out a sigh. A heavy, defeated sound that vibrated through his back. "I thought I was your future husband."

My chest tightened. A sharp pang of grievance hit me harder than the dizziness. I turned my face away, refusing to smell his scent.

"Asher. I'm not marrying you anymore." I made my voice ice. "Just pretend I was talking nonsense before. Deal is off."

Asher's footsteps faltered. He came to a hard stop in the middle of the hallway.

---

I survived the nurse's office.

When I got back to my desk, my heart stopped. I had forgotten to close my sketchbook. It was lying open. Exposed. The page featured a portrait of Asher I had drawn weeks ago.

But I had recently updated it.

A giant red X was slashed across his face. I had stamped a massive word in red ink right on his forehead: REJECTED.

Below it, I had listed his crimes in neat, angry handwriting:

1. Moody.

2. Toxic temper.

3. Zero romance skills. Not the man I remember.

Conclusion: DIVORCE PENDING. I AM DONE CHASING.

Panic spiked. I whipped my head around. Everyone was goofing off or sleeping. No one was looking at my desk.

I let out a breath. A test paper had drifted over the book, half-covering the evidence. Safe.

I ripped the page out. I crumpled it into a tight ball. I walked to the back of the room and Kobe-ed it into the trash can.

Good riddance.

Suddenly, I felt a burn on the back of my neck. A laser focus.

I turned around. My eyes darted to Asher's seat. He wasn't looking at me. He was staring intently at his textbook. But he hadn't turned the page in twenty minutes.

Chapter 6

Asher must be popping champagne. The pest was finally gone. I glared at the back of his head. Serves you right for being single for a decade.

I flashed back to our blind date in the future. He was perfect. A sculpted god in a bespoke suit.

"Why are you still single?" I had asked.

Asher had smiled, self-deprecating and smooth. "I'm too boring. No one is interested."

Liar.

He was charming. He made me feel like the only woman in the room. I honestly thought he had a medical issue. You know. Performance anxiety.

Then came our wedding night.

I couldn't walk the next day.

The man wasn't boring. He was a dormant volcano. And I was the tectonic shift.

But this version? Teenage Asher? He wasn't a volcano. He was a block of dry ice.

---

Winter arrived. My bed was a warm womb I refused to leave.

I sprinted into class just as the bell screamed. Again. My stomach growled. Loud enough to rival the bell. I slumped into my seat.

Then I saw it. A white paper bag sitting on my desk.

I peeked inside. A warm ham and cheese croissant. And a bottle of strawberry milk. My specific order. From the bakery three blocks out of the way.

I looked at Courtney. "Who left this?"

She shrugged, feigning ignorance. "No clue. It was there when I got here."

It had to be Kayla. No one else knew my stress-eating order.

"She's an angel," I muttered.

I devoured the croissant while reading my history textbook. I missed the small detail. Courtney caught the eye of someone in the front row. She gave a subtle, secretive wink.

---

Lunch.

I spotted Asher walking toward the line. "Pivot," I ordered, dragging Kayla toward the exit.

She glanced back. "He was totally staring at you."

"We aren't talking," I snapped.

Kayla sighed. "You guys are exhausting." She dug into her tray. "God, I'm hungry. I almost passed out in third period. Skipped breakfast."

I froze. The strawberry milk turned sour in my gut. I stared at her. "You didn't leave the food on my desk?"

Kayla spoke through a mouthful of burger. "Dream on. If I went to the bakery, I would have bought myself two. I barely made the bus."

Silence.

The realization hit me like a brick.

If it wasn't Kayla...

It was Asher.

He remembered. From those long tutoring sessions where I complained about craving that specific croissant. He woke up early. He walked the extra blocks.

Why? He rejects me, then feeds me?

I don't get it. And I don't want to play this game.

---

Back in the classroom.

I calculated the cost. Plus a generous tip for the delivery. I walked to his desk. I didn't say a word. I slapped the cash down on his open textbook.

I didn't look at his expression. I turned around and walked away.

I don't owe you anything, Asher.

Chapter 7

Asher didn't get the memo. Or maybe he was illiterate when it came to rejection. He was everywhere. Hovering at the edge of my vision like a glitch in the matrix.

It was my turn to clean the blackboard. I swiped the eraser across the board. I stretched. I couldn't reach the top corner.

Suddenly, the light shifted.

A shadow fell over me. The air pressure in the room seemed to drop. A large, solid presence loomed behind me.

He didn't touch me. But I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. It pressed against my back. He was invading my personal space. Boxing me in against the chalk rail.

"Let me."

His voice was a low rumble. It vibrated through the small distance between us. Dominant. Inevitable.

My breath hitched. No. I refused to be the damsel