Chapter 13 – Aston
ASTON
“Ah! It’s snowing!” Zoey shrieks, jumping up and down like a wild child in front of the window. “Daddy, look. It’s snowing!”
“I see, sweetie.” I laugh despite my foul mood.
I don’t know why it’s eating at me as much as it is.
It’s exactly as Skylar asked. What do I care if she dates?
It’s good if she does. Preferable even. All I know is I’m stupidly fixated on it.
Wondering where she is with him. What they’re doing.
If he’s making her smile and laugh. If she’s letting him touch her, kiss her, do more…
I blow out a frustrated breath.
I’m just lonely, and it’s been way, way too long since I’ve been with a woman.
“Do you want to go out—” My words get cut off as my phone rings. I pull it from my pocket and see it’s my mother. “Hi Mom,” I answer.
“Hi! How would you feel about Zoey having a sleepover here tonight? I have a new princess baking kit that Rina bought me for her, and I thought it would be fun to have a princess tea party with it. It’d also give you a chance to go out and have some adult time for yourself.”
I snicker. “Adult time?”
“I’m not going to ask how you spend it. I just know you need it.”
Was she reading my mind?
“Hold on. Let me ask her.”
“Zo-Zo, do you want to sleep at Grandma and Grandpa’s tonight and do a princess baking thing and a princess tea party?”
“Yes!” she screams at the top of her lungs and starts running in circles around me.
I laugh. “I take it you heard that?”
“I did.” My mom laughs, too. “Great. We’ll be by to pick her up in a bit before the snow gets bad.”
“Thank you. She’s excited, and I appreciate it.”
“I’m glad. See you soon.”
She disconnects the call, and Zoey and I go upstairs to pack her overnight bag, including the perfect princess dress to go with whatever they’re baking and for the tea party.
In the meantime, I text my brother and a few friends to see what—if any—their plans are for tonight.
We all agree to meet up at The Hill, and the first real smile I’ve had all day cracks across my lips.
Maybe this is what I needed. Just a night out with the guys without all the stress.
My parents arrive a few minutes later, and I kiss Zoey goodbye as I remind her to behave for Grandma and Grandpa, though it’s an unnecessary caution. She’s always an angel for them, saving her rare meltdowns exclusively for me.
“Have fun with Uncle Alden and Uncle Bennett, Daddy,” she says, giving me an extra squeeze. “Be good with them.”
I bite back a smile at her parroting of my own instructions. “Yes, little sassy pants.”
My parents give me a wink, then twenty minutes later, I push through the door of The Hill, a bar not too far from the hospital but far enough that I’m not thinking of work.
I spot my brother and friends at a corner table, already deep into what appears to be a hell of a lot of food and a round of drinks.
“There he is!” Alden calls, rising to pull me into a back-thumping embrace. “The prodigal surgeon returns to the land of the living.”
“Barely,” I admit, settling into the empty chair they’ve saved for me. “It’s been a rough first couple of weeks home, but I’m glad we were able to make this work.”
“Here. Take this. You look like you need it,” Stone says, handing me a double shot of something clear.
I take a whiff. Tequila. Without thinking, I swallow it down in one large gulp.
“How’s Micha’s place?” Jack asks. He’s still in scrubs, which tells me he just got off work. He works in the ER across town at MGH.
“Good,” I answer as I blow out a harsh, tequila-tinted breath. “It’s great, and Zoey loves it.”
“And living with Skylar?” Mason questions. I don’t ask how he knows that. His younger siblings are Quinn and Crew, and I know they’re close with Skylar. As Skylar once said to me, there are small circles in our worlds.
I shrug indifferently, hoping I’m fooling them. “She’s great with Zoey.” Not a lie either.
No one knows about the kiss. To them, Skylar is simply Micha’s baby sister. They don’t know how we fight or how I look at her or even the thoughts that enter my mind. Life was somehow easier and harder back in LA. But it was predictable. Now, nothing is.
I throw my hand up in the air and catch the waitress’s attention so I can order myself a beer.
Bennett studies me from across the table. “That bad, huh?”
I deflect. “Meh. It’s fine. Tell me what’s up with you guys.”
For the next hour, conversation flows easily as we discuss what Mason is doing during the off-season—he’s an NFL quarterback for the Boston Rebels—and then inevitably Jack, Bennett, Stone, Owen, Alden, and I morph into talk of hospitals and patients since we’re all doctors, despite our different specialties, though Stone does tell us how he’s buying a new sailing boat.
The Celtics play on the TVs over the bar, and I settle in, laughing and drinking and relaxing for the first time all week. Perhaps longer.
Bennett waits until the others are engrossed in a heated debate about the Rebels and their coaching situation since Mason’s father, Asher, is thinking of retiring, before sliding into the empty chair beside me.
“So,” he says without preamble, “I thought you should know, the women are anxious to set you up with someone and have already been conspiring on it.”
I nearly choke on my beer. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“The Fritz women have a complex intelligence network that the CIA would envy.” His smile is kind but knowing.
I can’t argue that. It’s true. “Please let your wife know I’m all set. I have enough on my plate right now and frankly, no time for dating. The thought of being set up sounds awful.”
“Because you’re living with Skylar?”
“No. Not because of Skylar.” Only as I say that I’m not entirely sure I mean it.
Bennett nods, tracing a pattern in the condensation on his glass. “Must be good for Zoey to have her around, though. Skylar is amazing with kids. She’s babysat Willow a few times. I’m sure it’s helping Zoey adjust to the move and to the new school.”
I exhale slowly, measuring my response. “Yes. She has been very helpful with Zoey, and they get along great. Unexpectedly so.”
That catches his attention. “Why unexpected?”
“Because Skylar and I, we seem to...” I struggle for the right word. “Clash.”
Bennett laughs. “I’m glad to hear that.”
That stops me, and I turn my focus away from the TV and over to him. “Not like that. It’s not like that.”
He gives me an if you say so shrug.
“Look,” Bennett continues, his voice dropping so the others can’t hear.
“I get it. The balancing act is brutal. When Willow was born, I nearly tanked my chief role trying to be Superdad and Supersurgeon simultaneously. Katy too, and now she’s pregnant again, which makes me even more worried with her type 1 diabetes. ”
“How do you manage?” I ask, genuinely curious. Bennett and Katy seem to have the perfect setup. Both successful surgeons, their daughter is thriving, and their marriage is solid. Clearly, I failed somewhere along the way with my marriage, and now it’s just me and Zoey.
“I stopped trying to do it all myself.” He meets my eyes directly.
“Pride is the enemy of parenting, man. I had to learn to accept help from Katy’s parents, from my mom, and from friends.
Even from the daycare and a nanny Willow adores, whom I initially resented for having time with my kid that I didn’t. ”
“It’s not just pride,” I admit, the shots and Bennett’s steady presence loosening my tongue.
“It’s fear. Zoey’s already lost her mother, and her fucker of a husband tried to get her taken from me too.
Her therapist mentioned some emotional trauma from that and even attachment disorders.
My parents are amazing, but she needs stability I’m not sure I know how to give her.
That’s why I can’t date right now. I can’t have women in and out of her life.
She’ll have that when Skylar moves out, and she’s already attached to her. ”
“That’s a valid concern,” Bennett agrees quietly.
“And there’s the small matter of us working at the same hospital, living in the same house, and having a history of... complications.”
Bennett’s eyebrows rise, and am I really this cheap of a drunk? Shit. I hadn’t meant to say anything. “Complications? That’s a new euphemism.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “It was one kiss. Two years ago. At a party.”
“Must have been some kiss if you’re still thinking about it.”
Before I can formulate a suitably dismissive response, Alden swoops in, handing us a fresh round of shots. “What are you two whispering about? Patient gossip? Women? Both?”
“Aston’s love life,” Bennett quips with perfect casualness. “Or lack thereof.”
“Ouch,” I mutter, taking the offered shot, but thankfully, the conversation has been steered into safer waters.
Three hours later, I climb out of my Uber alone.
Alden tried, as he does, to get me to meet someone, and as much as I miss the hell out of sex, my head is too much of a mess.
I don’t want to bring someone home, and the thought of fucking some random woman and then trying to escape the moment the condom comes off feels…
I don’t know. Juvenile, maybe. Prickish for sure.
I’d like to meet someone. That’s the problem. I was married, and I didn’t hate it. I loved it actually. She just didn’t love it with me. But it’s as I told Bennett, I don’t have that luxury right now.
Unlocking the door, I open it, lock it back up, then stop in my tracks when I head for the kitchen to get a glass of water. Skylar is sitting on the sofa staring into the fire, so lost in thought I’m not sure she heard me come in.
There’s no TV on, and she’s so still it instantly has me unsettled.
“Skylar?” I question softly, not wanting to startle her. For some reason, I didn’t think she’d be home. I figured her morning date would have turned into all night or that she’d be out with her friends.
Her head swivels in my direction, her shock at seeing me evident in her features, but it’s her face that has my brows drawing in and me crossing the room toward her with deliberate steps. She’s a mess and has visibly been crying for hours.
“Hey. Oh. Um.” Hastily, she wipes her cheeks, but the attempt is futile. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
She laughs and shifts on the sofa to hide from me. “I just finished a really sad movie.”
“With the TV off?”
She glances up at the black screen and emits another humorless, shaky laugh. “I turned it off after.”
I take the chair kitty-corner to where she is on the sofa and lean forward so I’m almost in her space, unable to stop myself as fury pulses through my veins. “Was it your date? Did he hurt you?”
She keeps her head tucked down, but she shakes it. “No. It wasn’t that, and it wasn’t a date. He was my realtor.”
Oh. Relief I have no right to hits me straight in the gut. Then I think about how I behaved, how jealous I acted. I clear my throat. “Then what is this?”
She goes to stand. “It’s nothing. Just a bad night. I’m going to bed.”
I stand too, intercepting her and taking her by the wrist so I can gently sit her back down. I take the seat directly beside her and box her in a little, even though she won’t meet my eyes. “Bullshit. Tell me.”
“What do you care?” she snaps, but that won’t work with me.
“I care. Now tell me who hurt you.”
“No one hurt me. Like I said, it’s just a bad night.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Nothing happened,” she grits out, growing aggravated.
“Again, bullshit. Talk to me,” I demand, my voice climbing in frustration.
Fresh tears well in her eyes. Instinct and worry take over, and I cup her face with one hand while putting the other around her and drawing her head to my shoulder.
“Shh. It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe. I promise.” I kiss the top of her head, and she hiccups out a whimper that breaks my fucking heart. “Please tell me what happened. You’re scaring the shit out of me, and my mind is going wild. Do I need to kill someone?”
I get a watery laugh, but I’m actually not kidding. I will murder the motherfucker.
“Was it Josh?”
She sobs, and her face digs into my shirt while her hands grip it. For a moment, all she does is cry, and I don’t know what to do other than hold her and console her and promise her that whatever it is, I’ll fix it. Fuck, I have to fix this. I can’t handle her tears. They’re ripping me apart.
Skylar is a ballbuster and tough as nails and sweet as pie. She should never know this kind of sadness or pain or whatever this is.
“Little Swan, tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll make it better for you.”
“You can’t,” she whispers, her voice drenched in agony.
I draw her chin up until her eyes meet mine. “Tell me,” I implore.
“You’ll tell Micha or someone else, and I can’t…” She trails off with a shake of her head.
“You and I already have secrets I haven’t told Micha or anyone else.” Then I nearly choke since I did tell Bennett about the kiss tonight. But he’s not going to say anything. Bennett isn’t like that. “I swear. Whatever it is, I won’t tell anyone.”
Her eyes search mine, and finally she whispers, “I’m pregnant,” and my world shuts down completely.