Chapter 38
Aspen
Both men seemed to have given me a choice about staying or leaving, but I know better. The perception of a choice and actually having a choice aren't the same thing.
But, despite knowing that, I'm grateful they both offered, and I'm torn on why I want to be here so badly. Is it because I have no other choice? Because, honestly, there's still a house and property that would divert to me since Damien is dead unless he willed it to someone else after my father died.
Do I want to stay because I feel safe here or because I feel like this is where I belong?
Does he want me here because he wants to be a part of our lives or simply because he doesn't think I can be a good mother?
I don't focus too long on the latter because I'll only drive myself mad worrying about it. Plus, the only way to assure them I'm not a horrible person is to prove it to them.
Eli is kicking his legs forward and back as if he's the happiest, most well-adjusted kid in the world when we walk into the kitchen.
"What do you have there?" I ask, looking at his plate.
"Red food!" he says enthusiastically.
"Tomatoes," Zara corrects, making me wonder if people haven't been speaking to him at all.
How does he love a certain food and yet doesn't seem to know the name of it?
"Tomatoes," he says with a mouthful.
When he mentioned red food, I instantly thought strawberries or watermelon, concerned they wouldn't have either because they're out of season, but it looked like I had nothing to worry about. On the counter in front of him is a small bowl of what I imagine is every red food they have in the kitchen. It includes watermelon and strawberries, as well as a small bowl of what looks like beets, some raspberries, and even a tiny dish of ketchup.
"He isn't a fan of the beets," Cora says as she adds a handful of whole-grain crackers to his plate.
"I'm not a fan of those either," I tell her. "I do like these, though."
I pluck a cherry from another bowl and pop it in my mouth, chewing the sweet fruit around the pit.
I smile at Nolan when he hands me a napkin so I can dispose of the pit.
When I glance back at Eli, I notice him watching the two of us. I wonder if it's detrimental for him to see the two of us together after witnessing the death of the man he thought was his father. That isn't even something I spoke to Caitlyn about. I make a mental note to jot down a list of what I know has happened to Eli, even though I don't doubt the list of what I don't know that has happened to him would be much, much longer.
We spend most of the day in the kitchen, and breakfast transitions into lunch before Eli yawns. I don't know if seven is too old for a nap, but exhaustion is nipping at my heels as well, so I guide him from the room and back up the stairs.
"I like it here," he says with another yawn as he kicks off his shoes before climbing into the bed unprompted.
"I like it here, too," I tell him as I do the same, lying on top of the covers after he pulls them up to his chin.
"When do I leave to go back to the hole?"
My heart stops with his question.
I want to grill him, ask a million questions, and demand to know the details, but I also know that I'm not qualified to do any of that. It makes me once again feel completely helpless where he's concerned. I'm terrified of what additional damage I can cause.
"What's the hole?" I ask because I don't not want to know what he's talking about.
"It's what Mr. Mean called my bedroom."
"You never have to go back to the hole," I tell him with confidence.
"I like this bedroom," he says looking at the wall with the window. "I didn't have a window in my old room."
"Would you like me to open the curtains?"
I'm off the bed in a flash when he dips his head, and I spend a second trying to take a deep breath before turning back around to him, swiping at a tear that feels the need to roll down my face.
Just when I think I can't hate Damien more, I feel another wave of animosity toward him.
"Can I play with the trains after my nap?"
"Of course," I tell him as I turn back toward him. "Is it okay if I nap with you?"
He smiles, holding the covers up for me to join him.
As tired as I am, I can't seem to fall asleep. I know it's my soul that's exhausted more than my body. Much like Eli, I've lived in this constant state of upheaval, unsure of what was going to happen next. I imagine Damien had instructions for whoever Mr. Mean was to cause as much mental damage to Eli as Damien caused to me, keeping me frazzled and unsure of what was going to happen next. He liked the power in it and flexed it often.
I stay beside Eli as he sleeps, the open curtain giving me a good view of his adorable face. I curse Damien's soul in hell when I see the bruise on his angelic face. He twitches some in his sleep, as if he's trying to get away from someone, but, eventually, he falls completely still, the deep sleep he's under finally giving him a reprieve from the things that haunt him.
I climb out of the bed, careful not to wake him, and I spend a few minutes staring down at him and vowing to make all the bad things that he's endured up to him. The rest of our lives will look nothing like the first seven years he has been on earth.
I tiptoe out of the room and startle to see Nolan sitting against the wall right outside of the room.
"What's wrong?" I ask, my heart racing at the sight of him.
"Nothing," he says as he stands. "I wanted to be nearby if either of you needed anything."
Such a simple answer that encompasses so much care and attention. It's much more than I deserve, honestly, but I'm not going to turn my nose up at the concern in his eyes. I can't recall another time in my life when someone was so willing to forgo their own comfort to help me.
I know we need to have a very long and serious conversation about what happens going forward, but I don't want to taint the look in his eyes right now with that mess. I'm not exactly putting my head in the sand here, but there will be time tomorrow when we can talk.
I don't know what staying here looks like. Do I share a room with Eli? Does Nolan want me in the room with him? Is there an us ?
"Hey," he says as he takes a step forward, his hand automatically going to my cheek so I can't look away from him. "What are these for?"
He swipes his thumb across the tears leaking down my face.
"I feel like I'm going insane," I confess. "I have everything I want but I don't know how long I'll get to keep any of it. I worry that in the next breath, the rug will be ripped out from under me, and there's nothing that I can do to stop it."
"There's no rug," he whispers.
"There is."
"Then tell me your concerns, and we'll work through them together."
As much as I didn't want to have this conversation now, it seems it's unavoidable. I start with the simplest one, pointing over my shoulder. "Someone lost their room, didn't they? For Eli to have this room right beside yours. Will they be mad?"
"Jersey willingly gave up his room for our son. You have nothing to worry about. What else?"
"I don't know," I whisper, trying to pull my chin away.
He holds me, but not in a way that hurts, although it does make me uncomfortable not to be able to run from his scrutiny.
"Come with me," he says, lowering his hand from my face and using it to clasp mine. I follow behind him until we're closed inside his bedroom. The warm afternoon sun filters into the room from the open curtain, the leafless trees in the distance swaying in the breeze. The view is incredible now, and I can only imagine how beautiful it will be once the foliage comes back in the spring.
"Will I be here in the spring?" I blurt.
"Do you want to be here in the spring?" he counters, smiling when I glare at him for answering my question with a question of his own.
"I do," I answer because I'm not in any position to play coy.
"Then you'll be here in the spring."
"It's that simple?"
He huffs a laugh without a hint of humor in it.
"There's nothing simple about any of this, Aspen. You know that better than I do. I'm angry beyond words. I hate that I've gone seven years without knowing my son. I hate the decisions that were made years ago, but there's no changing the past. All we can do is look to the future."
I swallow when he pauses to take both of my hands in his.
"Is there going to be a fight? Am I going to wake up one morning to find you gone and having taken Eli? Because I'll tell you right now, I'll fight for him. I'll fight for you, too."
I try to blink away tears but the action just has them swelling more on my bottom lashes and flowing down my cheeks.
He's territorial and possessive, but it's nothing like the way Damien made me feel. His concern doesn't come from a place of evil ownership and expectation.
"I've never stopped loving you, Aspen. Not for a single second. I don't know what that piece of shit told you or what he made you believe, but what we had was real." He swallows, his eyes searching mine. "At least for me it was."
My tears are now a torrent down my face, and I feel silly for having such a visceral reaction, but I can't help it.
"Nothing in my life has even come close to making me feel how I feel for you. I've missed a lot of years. I know there's a lot of pain in that, but we need a clean slate. I want you in every way possible, but this doesn't work if we don't let go of our pasts and start fresh."
He's not only asking me to forgive him, but he's also telling me that he forgives me too, and that carries with it such relief. With his words, all the pain and heartache fade away.
"Look to the future," I whisper, trying to give him a smile, but I know I look like a maniac trying to smile while crying.
I know I'm such an ugly crier, but he doesn't let me cover my face with my hands when I lift them.
"The future," he pledges, and in the next breath, I'm lifting up on my toes as he lowers his mouth to mine, and we seal our promises with a kiss.