2. He Didn’t See a Future
He Didn’t See a Future
Aiden
Nights were always worse.
My eyes stayed locked on my boots as I headed along the stone path to the village store. I didn’t need anything. I shouldn’t have stopped in town at all. The prickly red dusk set me on high alert, and the faint scent of woodsmoke clung to the chill already creeping over the valley.
But the chance of seeing her was worth the risk of stumbling on old ghosts.
Lola .
Looking at her made my heart beat fast—like a panic attack, but good.
She was all shy smiles, with a cherub face half-hidden behind a veil of champagne hair and tiny blue eyes peeking out from behind glasses too big for her face. She kept her head down, her shoulders always curling in like she wanted to tuck herself out of sight.
Yeah, Lola tried to hide, but I noticed her everywhere.
She wandered around town after the clinic closed. We’d stammered through a few awkward hellos at the village store. A wave hello at the coffee shop. Sometimes, I spotted her on the bench by the riverbank reading a book.
Yesterday, she’d clutched a copy of Flowers for Algernon under her nose, only pausing between pages to nibble her sandwich. I’d gawked at her for so long that Rose had sidled up beside me on the street.
“And what’s caught your attention over there?” she asked, craning her wrinkled neck to peer around me, desperate for gossip to share with the other old crows at church.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets and shrugged.
“And here I was thinking it might have been the pretty doctor catching your eye,” she said. “What’s her name again?”
“That’s, um…” I coughed into my fist, but my voice didn’t grind out the name any easier. “Lola.”
“That’s the one. She rents the place next to Yolanda Briggs, you know. The poor thing is living all on her own without a friend in the world! What do you say about that?”
Nothing. That’s what I’d said.
A nod goodbye, and I’d gone about my business… but not without one last look at Lola over my shoulder. Maybe if I got my hands on that book, we’d have something to talk about beyond awkward hellos.
I cursed myself for still not ordering a copy as the door to the village store loomed in front of me. My palm landed on the flaking green paint. I gritted my teeth.
Harden up, you weak bastard .
I could hear the almost two hundred years of history when the door groaned open, but it was the jingle that always turned my gut.
I hated that damn bell.
Ashley was crouched on the wooden floor. She hummed as she slid a cereal box onto the shelf, swaying to the music, her dark ponytail swinging in time. I was too big to sneak past her. My boots were heavy, and her head whipped around before I’d made it two steps.
“Back again, Aiden?” She slid another box onto the shelf like nothing was out of the ordinary. “That’s the fourth time this week.”
“I…forgot…” What? I never forgot a damn thing. Routines ruled my life. They had to. One misstep, and my world could unravel. “Something.”
Her mouth curved as if she were about to laugh, but instead, she only nodded. “You’ve been forgetting things a lot lately.”
I grunted and picked up a basket.
Ashley went back to stacking cereal, and I wandered around the cramped aisles, wasting time, picking up junk I didn’t need. Laundry detergent to add to my growing stockpile. A box of pasta that would sit untouched in the pantry.
Minutes ticked by.
The store was silent except for the thump of my pulse and the croon of some feel-good playlist Harry would like.
I kept my mind occupied rehearsing what I’d say to Lola.
She wouldn’t get any jokes from me, but something casual could work.
How was she settling in? How many invitations had she dodged from the matchmaking busybodies?
I raked my fingers through my hair. Nah, I couldn’t ask her that.
What about the weather? Yeah, the cold front expected over the valley was a safer option than imagining Lola smiling at some other man.
The bell never jingled.
No Lola tonight.
Sighing, I headed for the checkout, my footsteps slowing as dread turned my muscles to lead.
Man up. You’ve gotten through this plenty of times before…
My chest swelled from the breath in. The tremor threatening to shake my hand steadied.
Ashley beat me to the register. She wiped her hands down the front of her apron and glanced at the random items I started unpacking on the counter.
Her eyebrows pinched together. “Angel hair spaghetti?” she asked, holding up the box.
I shrugged. “I like pasta.”
“Do you? This one seems a bit—I dunno—dainty for you. I’d guess you’re more of a pappardelle kinda man.”
I was more of a make-pasta-from-scratch kind of man, but Ashley didn’t need to know that. I’d seen her huddled with the church ladies at the village markets. Gossiping . I didn’t want anyone to know my business. Any of it. Not even pasta business.
Ashley picked up the box of spaghetti and sent it soaring for the scanner.
My jaw clenched.
Just breathe—
The beep pierced my ears like a scream. The breath I forced into my lungs did nothing, and my hand only stopped shaking when I clenched gnawed fingernails into calloused skin.
I knew better, but there I was, risking my damn dignity over a woman who didn’t know I existed. My triggers weren’t a secret. The bell. The scanner. Sharp, high noises were a one-way ticket to a flashback I couldn’t risk having in the village store.
But I battled to keep my face neutral. No one knew about the shit going on inside my head, and I planned to keep it that way.
Oblivious, Ashley kept scanning the rest of my groceries. “How’s work?” she asked. “Busy at the moment?”
“Yeah.”
“How’s everything on the mountain?”
“Quiet.”
My eyes tracked the canned tomatoes as they torpedoed across the counter. I squeezed my fist tighter as the scanner squealed. My breaths evened out.
Another one down .
“Harry stopped by this morning,” Ashley said. “He was telling me you’ve built a deck out the back of your place.”
“Yeah.”
“I bet you’ve got a nice view of the valley.”
“S’pose.”
Ashley grimaced.
I couldn’t blame her. Talking to me was like getting blood out of a stone.
But what was the point of asking and answering pointless questions like “How are you?” anyway?
What a waste of time. It wasn’t like I could answer honestly and say, “I’m exhausted, lonely, and wish this whole merry-go-round was just… over .”
People laughed nervously and looked for the nearest exit if I said shit like that. I’d learned that the hard way. My father passed away after seven years of silence between us. Once upon a time, I’d lived a life of service that made him—my family—proud. And I ruined it.
Ashley slid the full shopping bag across the counter. “I’d say see you next week like I used to,” she said, “but I’ve got a feeling you might forget something tomorrow.”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” I lied.
“None, huh?” She smirked. “So, you’re not interested to know your girl just headed for the post office?”
“I don’t have a girl.”
“Uh-huh.”
I grunted. The less I said about Lola, the better.
“She’s nice, the doctor,” Ashley said. “It’s funny, though. Everyone sure was convinced you were sweet on Ruth Wilks for a while there.”
My hand froze midair before I could grab the bag of groceries. People speculated too much about Ruth. About me. We were no one’s business. If everyone had stopped sticking their noses into our lives, maybe Ruth would still come to town.
I jerked my chin down in a nod goodbye to Ashley. I needed to get out of there before I said something I’d regret. The bell jingled as I barged through the door, but for once, I didn’t notice.
My boots nailed to the path outside.
Lola.
The sight of her gripped around my chest and dragged me closer. Fear didn’t slow my steps. The only place I needed to be was beside her, holding open the post office door so she didn’t have to shoulder her way out under a mountain of boxes and bags.
I could carry her packages. Maybe I’d sneak a touch on the sleeve of the pink cardigan she’d thrown over that loose black sack she always wore and ask about her day…
“What the bloody hell is wrong with me?” I muttered.
Relationships? Not on my to-do list. But my vow to spend my life alone didn’t stop me from walking in the opposite direction from where I’d parked my truck.
If Lola heard me coming, she didn’t show it, and there was no way she’d see a thing over the haphazard tower of packages in her arms. She also didn’t notice the gap in the worn stone pavers.
She wobbled from foot to foot along the path until the toe of her shoe caught.
Parcels hurtled through the air. I dropped my groceries and lunged forward, catching her just before she hit the ground.
Her fingers clung to my side, and, shaky, a little uncertain, she lifted her chin and pushed her glasses up her nose.
“Oops,” she whispered.
My heart pounded too fast in my chest—another one of those panic attacks, but good.
“Oops,” I whispered back.
No idea why. My smile was unexpected, too.
Lola untangled herself with a guilty smile. The scent of coconut shampoo clung to her, reminding me of beach holidays I never take anymore. I wanted to pull her back and trap all her sweetness. Instead, I stuffed my hands into my pockets. Nervous? Nah…
“Been doing some online shopping?” I asked.
“Um…” She nibbled on her lip. “No…”
I cocked my head. She was even worse at lying than I was.
“Okay… Yes!” A dizzy smile burst across her face. “I got my first pay! I needed a few things for my cottage.” Hands flying to her cheeks, she blinked down at the explosion of packages scattered outside the post office. “I guess I got a bit carried away.”
“A bit, huh?”
“A teensy bit.” She laughed, and it was just about the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.
“I bought cooking utensils, candles, fluffy towels, and fancy pink sheets that aren’t scratchy.
Oh! New clothes and a pair of shoes.” Her eyes sparkled.
I’m not exaggerating. Sparkled . “And it was all brand-new! I didn’t even have to wait for anything to be on sale! ”
Lola darted around picking up her boxes, smiling like it was Christmas morning. And somehow, it didn’t feel right. The emotion was too raw. Too new . I ignored the knot twisting in my gut. The sun was dying over the horizon, and when night closed in, I hovered at the edge. I was overthinking it…
I crouched down to help her, holding up a white box marked with the logo of one of the big bookstores. “And this?”
Lola took the package from me and hugged it against her chest. “I love reading,” she said.
Me too.
I ached to tell her I loved books and cooking, just like she did.
I wanted to sniff her smelly candles and wash her fluffy towels.
I didn’t give a damn if her sheets were pink or if they itched worse than the woollen jumpers my Nan had knitted for me.
I wanted to cuddle Lola on her sheets all night.
But I didn’t say a word.
My arms buried under a mountain of packages, I straightened up and swept my gaze along the street. No cars. Just my truck. All the spots outside the post office were empty, too.
“Where are you parked?” I asked her.
“I, um, well…” There she was, biting down on that pink lip again. “I don’t have a car…yet.”
How the hell was she getting around? On foot? Over my dead body. “How did you get here from Hobart?”
“The…bus…”
“What about all your stuff?”
“Oh, you know…” She waved her hand about like this conversation wasn’t a big deal. “I didn’t want to haul all my junk from the mainland when I moved.” The nervous laugh that followed didn’t convince me, either. “My cottage came furnished… Sort of…”
My eyebrow crept up. She was acting more than a little skittish. Was it me? Was I being awkward again? Goddammit. I wanted Lola to tip her chin up at me and bless me with another smile. Or let out another one of her airy laughs. I liked those the best. Pure heaven.
“I’ll drop you home,” I said, turning to head for my truck.
Lola’s hand darted out to grab one of her packages. “No. It’s okay. I can manage,” she insisted. “I know you’re busy.”
I took the box back and carefully balanced it on top of the pile. Ignoring the bruising sky, I said, “I’ve got time.” Not much, though.
Lola fidgeted with the hem of her cardigan. “Are you sure?” She whispered her address to her shoes. “I don’t want you to go out of your way.”
“That’s on my way.”
“Really?”
Not really. “Really.”
Stumbling through another insistence that it was no trouble to drop her home seemed to settle it—or maybe Lola was just too nice to say no.
Either way, she kept close behind me, her silence the same quiet relief it always was.
I moved slow, careful not to jostle her precious cargo, and grabbed the discarded bag of groceries on the way.
When I opened the passenger door, Lola’s fingers curled over my forearm.
Surprised, my heart already hammering, I dropped my gaze to stare at that soft touch.
Oh, those little hands …
Blue eyes blinked up at me. “Thanks, Aiden.”
Tongue-tied, I nodded. Truthfully, I almost died.
The pretty curve of her lips cracked my chest wide open and knocked out any wind left in my lungs. But instead of feeling like my life was a one-way trip to hell, for the first time in a long time, I didn’t want to jump off the merry-go-round anymore.
I wanted her on it with me.