Chapter 5
AIDYN
I stomp up the stairs to my apartment over the diner. That man is the most infuriating person on the planet. And I’m sticky all over. Once in the bathroom, I strip off my clothes, careful not to get cake everywhere, and step into the hot shower. The pelting water soothes my muscles.
But images of Garrett covered in cake—I refuse to think about that man, so I focus on the cake.
The hours I spent baking and decorating.
Painstakingly getting every detail perfect.
It took one moment of anger to ruin it. Cake everywhere.
But that’s all it takes for everything to change.
One second of frustration. One second of someone not paying attention.
One second for a truck to slam into your car.
The terror in her eyes. The spinning as the world shifted. I brace myself against the tiled wall. Focus on getting clean. Not on twisted metal. Or blood. Or my sweet love, grabbing my hand, her eyes filled with pain as she tells me it will be okay.
But it wasn’t fucking okay.
Things are easier now than they were after it first happened. Every day gets a little easier. But this wedding—I scrub the stickiness off my arms and body and wash my hair. Jane is depending on us to bring the other cake. And Garrett is waiting downstairs.
A flash of him, fresh from the shower—hair wet, skin flushed—has my body reacting in a way I don’t want. I switch the water to freezing.
After my shower, I slip on dress pants and a shirt. As I fasten each button, I give myself a talking to. Keep your head on straight, Aidyn. Don’t let him get to you. Don’t ruin another cake.
The man makes everything more difficult.
A picture of Emily on the nightstand grabs my attention.
I trace the line of her sweet face. “I’m trying, love.
I didn’t mean to ruin Jane’s wedding. And your brother…
I don’t know what to think. What to do. When we met that day in my da’s bar, Garrett and I were having a grand time, but then you walked in, and it was all over for me.
Your brother was cold after that. He obviously thought I wasn’t good enough for you.
Which was true enough. He made his opinion doubly clear by fucking off to New York.
And then, after the funeral, he blamed me.
” I skip over those days. Too traumatic to think about.
“And now, it’s all a confusing mess. I don’t know what to think.
Except, I’m lonely, love, and I miss you so much. ”
Even without a response, getting it all out releases some of the pressure. I can do this. Face Garrett. Deliver the cake to the reception and not do anything else to mess up this wedding.
I wipe the tears from my face. I’m done crying. At least for today. On the way downstairs, I remind myself to be civil. Everything is fine. Just keep the peace.
Garrett is pacing when I enter the kitchen. His eyes flash to mine and his fury feels like a physical blow. I slow down so I don’t stumble.
“Are you ready, Garrett?” Thank God, my voice is steady. I step by him, not waiting for his response. Focus on the cake. Save the wedding. Get through this day.
“Nothing’s changed, Aidyn.” There is so much behind the words. I don’t know what he’s talking about, but his tone tells me everything. It’s a challenge. A start…to something.
I throw him a look and open the stainless steel reach-in refrigerator. The cake is in two layers. I gather the tiers and the extra frosting and place them on the table.
He’s still fuming, but we don’t really have time for this. “What are you on about?” I ask, barely paying attention as I go about my task of preparing the cake. I place each layer in its own box to be assembled once we get to the venue.
“Aidyn.” The snap in his voice grabs my attention. “Nothing has changed.”
I close the last box and focus on him. This is what he wants. My attention for some damn reason. Now he has it. “Lanie is older. You missed a couple of birthdays. Not that you cared.”
“I sent her a card with money.”
I snort. “You’re good at that.”
He steps closer, and I slide the boxes away. I can’t let another cake get ruined. His hands ball into fists. “Let me know when you’re done hiding.”
“Hiding?” I don’t shy away from his gaze because fuck him.
“Behind the cake. And your words.”
What the fuck is he on about? I don’t hide.
That’s more his style. But I don’t have time to figure it out.
I check the cabinets for dowels to hold the cake together and add them to the pile of things to bring.
He’s still glaring at me, but I’m fucking done.
“If you’ve got something to say, just say it. ”
His nostrils flare as he grabs me and pushes me against the fridge, knocking the wind out of me.
I twist away, but he shoves me again, holding me in place with a hand on my chest. His fingers are points burning into my skin.
Setting every nerve on fire. My heart pounds wildly in response.
I knock his hand away and undo my tie. If it’s a fight Garrett wants, I’m happy to oblige.