Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
T he day was a blur of darkness and misery. Whenever he felt himself shrinking from the pain because it was too much and he didn’t want to feel it, he took June’s advice and leaned into it, allowing the hurt to surround him, to soak into every miserable pore of his body.
Rationally he knew Erica jilted him because she had issues. But that did nothing to help his feelings of rejection. She had left him, not merely broken up with him, but left him twisting in the wind in the most humiliating way possible, in front of hundreds of people. Above everything he thought they were friends. How could a friend do that? Worse than that thought were the little whispers that questioned whether or not he’d deserved it. Had he not been present enough? Attentive enough? Had Erica realized his secret attraction to June?
He could admit it was there now, had been there all along. He had fought valiantly against it, would never have acted on it. But it had been there from that first day so many months ago, when he opened the curtain and saw June’s hands prayerfully glued together. It might have been a passing fancy, a physical reaction to her stark beauty, but then she’d opened her mouth and been shockingly down to earth and charming, for someone so lovely. She wasn’t an ice princess, wasn’t one of the out-of-touch beautiful people; she was real and wounded, as pure and sweet on the inside as she was on the exterior.
I think maybe I love June, Aiden thought with a sudden jolt. But he still loved Erica, and how was that possible? Did that make him a terrible person, to have fallen in love with a friend while still with his fiancée? Did she know? Was that why she ran away? That was the thought that tormented him most. He could accept her self-centerdness much more than any loss of character on his part. And now, in review, everything felt muddled. Had he been thinking of June when he was with Erica?
A little, if he were being honest. Things between him and Erica had been so rife with tension the last few months of house building. He hadn’t enjoyed the person it was making her into. If he were being absolutely honest, he had occasionally dreamed of June in those instances, but how could he not? They had attended multiple meetings where Erica seethed, pouted, and ranted until she got her way while, in contrast, June had remained amicable, reasonable, pleasant, and sunny. It had been impossible not to compare the two women, in his mind and in his heart.
But you knew that wasn’t fair, he told himself, offering a bit of much-needed reassurance. He had told himself, repeatedly, that it wasn’t fair to compare the two, that it was like apples and oranges when their situations were so different. He and June hadn’t been in a relationship, hadn’t been dealing with navigating their issues while also building a house and planning a wedding. Of course June had been able to remain happy-go-lucky. It was her job to do so; she hadn’t had to live with any of the simmering tension after she left work, unlike Aiden who had been walking on eggshells for weeks.
There was a bit of relief mixed in with Erica’s abandonment, and that made him feel even worse. Because he had loved her, did love her. Before all of the house stuff came into being, she had been calm, caring, and supportive. She had listened to Aiden when he talked and provided encouragement for anything he faced. He pictured her being a good spouse, an excellent mother to their someday children. Had he been wrong? Had Erica been wearing a mask, never revealing her true self? Or was it as she said, that her parents’ divorce and her father’s abandonment left scars so deep he had no hope of helping her heal them? It wasn’t fair to make judgments on that when his family was still intact, his parents still in love.
He felt sad and confused and angry, seemingly every negative emotion all at once. Lean into it, June had said, so that was what he tried to do. It’s okay to feel all of this, he told himself, and it was nice, to have permission to feel so terrible. It removed one layer of pressure. He didn’t have to solve or resolve anything today; he merely had to feel, to let himself stew in his misery. And stew he did. He wallowed, he cried, he even yelled and kicked the mattress a few times, which made him feel like a fool but also a little better somehow, like a valve had been opened and some of the pressure eked out.
He had no idea how long he lay in his gargoyle cave of solitude, but eventually June returned home. She entered the blanket fort with a flashlight, like she was about to go spelunking for hidden treasure and not a sulky doctor.
“I brought you something,” she announced.
Right away his heart felt lighter. He wasn’t certain if it was the promise of what she brought or the woman herself who made him feel that way. “What?” His voice was scratchy, either with disuse or crying. He cleared it and rubbed his eyes with his fists, a sleepy toddler.
“Some reading material.”
“Oh,” he said, slightly disappointed. He didn’t want to read, but he should have known better.
“When you have a problem, it makes you feel better to read about people with bigger problems. It’s called medicine, Aiden. Look it up.” She settled beside him, nestling, and shined her light on the magazine in her hands.
“What is that?” Aiden asked, holding back a laugh because he could already tell from glimpsing what it was.
“It’s a collection of real stories about real people who have real problems. Like this guy who had a three hundred pound tumor removed from his abdomen, and then it turned out to be his twin he’d swallowed in the womb.”
“You brought me a tabloid,” he accused, now laughing a little.
“I brought you real life,” she insisted, giving the magazine a little shake. “Look at this blind squirrel. It has a Seeing Eye dog and learned to ride a tricycle.”
“That’s clearly a puppet,” Aiden said.
“Obviously they had to use a puppet for the picture. Can you imagine what would have happened if they’d used his real picture? He would have been mobbed with fans. This is for safety.” She held the magazine aloft and started to read out loud, a ridiculous story about a woman who was kidnapped by aliens, impregnated, and was now attempting to take them to court for child support. Aiden let the silliness wash over him, laughing so hard at June’s dramatic delivery that he clutched his stomach and wiped tears.
“See? You’re crying in sympathy with someone else’s plight. That’s healthy,” June declared, now staring at him.
“I’m crying because you’re a loon.”
“I’ll take that, too,” she said, smiling as she set the magazine aside and scooted closer, resting her head on her hand. “What did you do today?”
“You’re looking at it.”
“You haven’t left the blanket fort all day?” she said.
“Nope.”
“Good for you.” She touched a finger to his nose. He snagged her hand, twining their fingers together.
“I stink.”
“I can’t disagree, but it’s okay. I have a brother. I’ve grown used to the way boy stink seeps into everything and takes over. It’s the number one reason women buy scented candles.”
“I should shower,” he said.
She shook her head.
His brows rose. “No? You want me to let the odor linger?”
“No one wants that, Aiden. I think you should take a bath. It’s the proper thing for heartbreak.”
“A bath? That’s…different.” Just because he wasn’t big into taking baths didn’t mean he didn’t see the appeal. He enjoyed soaking in hot tubs, and his bathroom had a giant tub, courtesy of Erica. What was so different about it?
“When you’re sad, different is always better,” June said.
Since he was now thinking about a bath instead of his trauma, he thought that was probably true. “Wise words, Miss Kellogg.”
“Mrs. Lawrence,” she corrected. It was the second time she’d corrected him, and it made him wonder.
“Are you really taking my name?” he asked.
“Why not? Mine hasn’t done much for me. And I kind of like it, taking the husband’s name. It’s so sweet and proper and old fashioned.”
“Yes, but it also feels real. How do you reconcile that?”
“The same way I reconciled signing the papers for this half a million dollar house with you. Some things actually are real here, Aiden.”
She didn’t elaborate, and now he was left wondering which things. Was it possible June felt for him the same way he felt for her? Or at least a little? Having seen himself up close in a mirror, he doubted she was as attracted to him as he was to her. She was perfect. He, though not a troll, was far from perfect. He didn’t have the gym bod or the chiseled jaw. In comparison to June, he was rather ordinary.
“Do you know I read a study that beautiful women who marry average men are happier and feel more loved,” he blurted and winced. It was true, he had read that study, but there was no need to blurt it.
“I wouldn’t know,” June said.
Did that mean she didn’t consider herself beautiful or him average?
“You’re a mystery, June Ke…Lawrence.”
She smiled, her lovely face transformed to incandescent sweetness that Aiden could swear lit up the gargoyle blanket fort better than the flashlight.
“Time for your bath, Doctor L,” June said. When she reached, Aiden thought she was reaching for him. Instead she tugged hard on the blanket above them, demolishing the fort. “And time to let the light back in, figuratively and otherwise.”