29. She Saw a Future with Him
She Saw a Future with Him
Lola
Aiden slid his reusable coffee cup across the counter.
The girl taking his order blinked. A line furrowed between her eyebrows. “Uh…” She blinked again. “So…”
Something in her brain short-circuited when she looked at that cup. Was it because it was bright pink? Or was it the sparkly unicorns pooping rainbows that made her thoughts fizzle? Personally, I thought the cup was adorable.
Aiden shrugged away her confused look the same way he pretended all Harry’s wacky gifts were no big deal.
But if you knew when to look, a smile peeked from his beard when he presented the cup to the barista.
It was the same smile he tried to hide when he showed me another pair of his silly socks or talked about the wonky birdhouse Harry had built him years ago.
Those smiles were proof of the final skeleton hiding in Aiden’s closet—he was nothing but a sentimental softy.
The girl behind the counter fritzed back to life. “What’ll you have?”
Aiden shook off a yawn. “A latte, please,” he ground out. “Actually—wait.” His fingers speared through his hair. “Make it a double shot.”
My eyebrows popped up. This was new. How tired was he? “A double shot?”
Aiden barely nodded. Dark circles framed his eyes, and even though he often frowned, there was an extra heaviness to the lines around his mouth. “You’re right. That won’t cut it.” He turned back to the barista. “Make it a triple shot, please.”
He slumped his hip against the counter, one hand fumbling in the back pocket of his jeans for his wallet, his other hand fighting off another yawn.
Scratch tired—he was exhausted .
A sneaky grin spread across my face. Finally, this was my chance.
The five times Aiden had paid for my coffee were five times too many.
I was treating him whether he liked it or not.
I darted forward. He didn’t know what hit him.
He was only just flipping open his wallet when my hand launched across the counter to tap my card and pay.
“Lola,” Aiden’s tired voice pleaded. “I invited you for coffee. I should pay.”
I didn’t bother trying to hide my frustration. My arms folded across my chest, and I stared him dead in the eyes. “You promised I could treat you next time,” I huffed. “And that was at least three coffee dates ago.”
Aiden’s eyes rounded, suddenly wide-awake. “D-dates?”
“Oh.” My eyes skipped nervously over the cookie jars lined up on the counter. “When you started inviting me out for coffee, I thought… Isn’t this…? Were these not…?”
“Yes!” Aiden blurted. “I want that.” He gulped. “If you do. Do you want them to be dates?”
Shyness forced my eyes to my sandals. All I could do was nod. When I dared to look up, a softness crinkled the corners of Aiden’s eyes. He was smiling, too.
With our coffees in hand, we wandered side by side to the table in the back. I dropped into the chair by the window. Aiden collapsed into the one beside me. Even slumped over, he still looked comically oversized at the tiny café table. His big hand covered his face in another yawn.
I slid his coffee closer to him. “Didn’t get much sleep while you were in Hobart?”
“Not a wink,” Aiden grumbled.
“Were you worried about your appointment with the psychiatrist?”
“No.” Another tired grumble. “My problem was Harry.” He threw a helpless look over the rim of his cup. “That’s the last time I let him tag along. He kept me up all night.”
“Does he snore?”
“I wish. There wasn’t much sleeping going on. He was like a twelve-year-old at his first slumber party. He gushed about Brooke for hours. Do I need to spend half the night figuring out if she likes macaroni? Yes. I do.”
I laughed. “I think it’s sweet how Harry is completely gaga over Brooke.”
Aiden grunted. “You wouldn’t think it was so sweet if his phone was shoved in your face at one in the morning. He blathered on and on about rings. Rubies or garnets. Princess cut or oval cut. I make furniture. What the hell do I know about jewellery?”
I sipped my coffee, careful to keep my face neutral even though I wanted to squeal. Rings! “Is Harry…?” I froze. Surely not. “It’s way too soon!”
“It is.” Aiden’s smile turned coy. “You know nothing.”
I pretended to zip my lips shut, but I wriggled in my seat, too much excitement bubbling in my veins.
Aiden’s eyebrow arched. “Can you keep a secret, Lola?”
“Yes.” A grin escaped. “Okay, no.” I laughed. “I will try . Promise.” I zipped my lips again.
Aiden flashed a smile, but it faded quickly. His finger traced the rim of his cup, and he sat silent, lost in his thoughts. It was a long time before he spoke again.
“My, um, appointment,” he said. “I think it went well.”
“So, the psychiatrist we found turned out to be okay?”
“Yeah, I think he’s a good fit for me. He sees a lot of ex-cops and return veterans. The appointment was long. The shrink asked a lot of questions. Some of the questions… Yeah.” His eyes lowered to his cup and stayed there. “Going back over old ground was harder than I thought.”
“It would’ve been difficult to open up about what you’ve been through.”
“It was. You’ve been seeing someone, too, though. It gets easier, right?”
“It does. The first few appointments I had were hard, but now it’s like catching up with a friend who’s a great listener. No judgement, just help. Take it slow and remember to be kind to yourself all the days in between.” I sipped my coffee. “Will you keep going?”
He nodded. “Once a month in the city and on the phone the other weeks. I’m trying to be realistic. I know I’ll never be a hundred percent. I doubt I was before the accident, either, but I don’t want to keep pretending I’m okay. I want to get better.”
“I’m so incredibly proud of you.”
Aiden tried to shrug off the compliment, ducking his head so I wouldn’t see the rosy hint on his cheeks. Too late. I saw it—and his red ears, too. Ruth had told me to look out for those.
“So, uh…” Aiden cleared his throat. “How have you been? How’s the book going?”
My shoulders scrunched up to my ears. “I finished it last night.”
“Already? It’s a solid effort to get through The Count of Monte Cristo that quickly.”
“Oh, Aiden, I couldn’t put it down! I was hooked when I read the first page.
I barely moved off my couch all weekend.
” Aiden’s soft smile only encouraged me to gush even more.
“How had I never read it before? How did I exist in the world before I knew Dantès and Faria? It was the most perfect of all perfect books. Thank you so much for letting me borrow it.”
“Thank you so much for reading it. I’m glad you liked it.”
I grinned over the top of my coffee. “What if I’d hated it?”
“Then we’d shake hands, part company, and never speak to each other again. I can’t be friends with anyone who doesn’t love the Count.”
“Really?”
“Of course not.” He laughed. “We can have different opinions. It doesn’t bother me.
Ruth hated The Count of Monte Cristo . She didn’t even make it out of the Chateau d’If before she threw the book across the room.
Literally. ” He lifted his hair to show me a faint triangular scar on his forehead.
“You wouldn’t believe the air she got on that thing. ”
My heart swelled. He rarely acted like this.
Playful? Joking? This wasn’t Aiden. Or maybe…
this was Aiden, but a version of him that few people ever saw.
Had Ruth seen him like this? Did she miss seeing this side of him as much as I wanted to see more of it?
I grinned. Well, she probably didn’t miss the reading part.
Aiden’s hand covered mine, and he leant closer. “All human wisdom is contained in two words , ” he recited softly. “Wait and hope.”
My stomach twisted in a hundred knots. Even though I knew those were the last words in the book we both treasured, the guarded look in his eyes hinted that they meant so much more. He was waiting, hoping, but for what? For me?
“I’ll wait.” His steady gaze promised he would. “But do I have a right to hope?” He swallowed. “Will you ever be able to forgive me?”
“I forgive you.”
He frowned. “But?”
“It’s hard to forget what happened between us.
I understand why you acted the way you did, but you know my story.
I don’t always trust myself to make good decisions.
I see you’re trying. I know you’re trying.
But my history… and our history…” I bit my lip.
“I’m sorry. I know that’s probably not the answer you want to hear. ”
“Forget what I want to hear. What do you want, Lola?”
My eyes popped open. “I want…” I faltered.
No one had ever asked me that before. What did I want? The fairytale? Maybe something even better? Should I let the words gush out and allow Aiden to choose if he wanted to be part of my fantasies?
Yes.
Just once.
Yes.
“I want a life with someone,” I said. “I tell myself I’m brave…
I’m strong… I know I can do it on my own, but I don’t want to.
I want someone who walks beside me, and holds my hand, but watches out for me so I don’t stumble in the puddles.
I want to be with someone who doesn’t control me or dictate what I can wear, where I can go, or who I can be friends with.
I never want to put my key in the lock and worry about what’s waiting for me when I open the door.
I want to laugh and share kisses and make love…
every day…and…maybe”—I grinned—“get a cat.”
He chuckled. “A cat, huh?”
“Yes. And I get to name him anything I want.”
The smile on Aiden’s lips faded almost as quickly as it had appeared. Was that too much? I nibbled down on my lower lip, nervous the longer he stayed lost in his thoughts.
Aiden’s voice was strained when he finally spoke again. “I hate that bastard stole so much from you that you wish for simple things you should expect and not have to hope for.”