32. She Saw Her Happy Ending
She Saw Her Happy Ending
Lola
My eyes drifted from the road, flicking a glance in the rearview mirror. Aiden’s black beast of a truck trailed a safe distance behind me, but I still caught a glimpse of him tapping the steering wheel, agitated, on edge.
I jabbed the button to activate my phone in the console. The speakers bleeped with each ring. I glanced in the mirror. Aiden frowned before the phone connected.
“You doing okay back there?” I asked, eyes still on him.
His expression stayed stony. “Focus on the road, love.” His voice was strained. “I’m fine.”
Frowning, I flashed him a wave and hung up.
Aiden worried too much about me driving.
Even though I hadn’t owned a car for six years, I wasn’t that rusty.
I was cautious. Sensible. But Aiden’s past stalked at his heels.
It was early days for him in therapy, and even though he tried so hard, the flashbacks still happened.
But we were working through it—together.
The speakers chimed with an incoming call.
Aiden’s warm chuckle made my heart skip a beat. “Keep to the speed limit, Leadfoot Lola.”
I glanced at the dash.
Leadfoot Lola?
Hardly. I only crept a few over the speed limit, my pulse jumping with the excitement of getting to my new house. But I eased off the accelerator and darted a look in the rearview mirror. No tapping fingers. One hand sliding off the wheel.
Aiden was okay.
Not like the drive back from Hobart last week.
Aiden had driven us to the city. We’d spent two days having crazy-good sex in a three-star motel, reading books, and laughing our heads off when we tried to cook a romantic brunch in a shoddy microwave. On attempt two, Aiden had exploded an egg. What a mess.
Somewhere in all that, we’d found time to buy a new car.
My new car.
Some people would never understand how important it was for me to walk into the dealership.
I’d been caged for years, my every move, every breath, picked apart.
The car was my freedom. And ironically, that freedom came from the one thing still hidden at the bottom of the faded pink pillowcase—my old engagement ring.
The last reminder of Chris disappeared into the hands of a jeweller in the city, and I drove home in a brand-new car instead of the used Toyota that Aiden had helped me pick out from the online listings.
But the drive home had been a nightmare.
A perfect storm of hell brewed for Aiden that afternoon.
I hadn’t been behind the wheel in years and lurched to a few sudden stops, getting used to the brakes.
He was tired, and his nerves frayed too close to breaking after an appointment with the psychiatrist. He trailed in his car behind me, and everything was okay… until it wasn’t.
The weather turned halfway home. Charcoal clouds swept in off the ocean, and rain pelted in white sheets across the highway.
Aiden unravelled in seconds and swerved off the road to battle through one of the worst anxiety attacks I’d ever seen.
His skin drained white, and the pained cries that wrenched out of him when he slumped over in the front seat almost broke my heart.
Even when he could finally choke out words, his head stayed bowed against the wheel.
“I can’t get better,” he said. “I can’t .”
“We could try count—”
“It doesn’t fucking work!”
“Aiden—”
“It doesn’t always fucking work, Lola! Please. I’m a fucking failure. Leave me to rot here where I belong. Just go.”
“What’s our rule?” I huffed at him. “What’s the one thing you can’t do?”
Guilty, tear-stained eyes turned from the steering wheel. “I’m not pushing you away.”
I snorted. “Yeah, right. Try again, big guy.”
“You’re better off without me.”
“Nope.”
“Please go.”
“Nah.”
And when my gentle encouragement had still failed, I’d called in the big guns.
The lovebirds met us on the highway. Harry drove Aiden home. Brooke sped along at the back of the convoy in her shiny convertible. And me, well, I zoomed at the front, music floating in my own little piece of freedom.
Everything had worked out.
I’d shown Aiden that life wasn’t about struggling on his own. He had friends he could rely on. I did, too. But I had a sneaking suspicion I’d have to repeat that message a few more times until it was burned into his stubborn brain.
I zipped my car into the driveway and shut off the ignition.
“There she is,” I murmured, a proud smile spreading across my face.
The old farmhouse was a beauty. Bigger than the cottage and farther out of town, the house was an easy walk to Ruth’s for all the Mexican fiesta nights I could handle.
A tray of pumpkin seedlings and pea shoots waited beside the front door.
She’d promised to help me plant a vegetable garden of my own.
I pushed open the car door, hopped out, and clicked the fob to lock it. My car. I skimmed my fingertips over the shiny paint, savouring those new car feels, until Aiden’s arms circled my waist. Happiness fluttered in my chest when he kissed the back of my neck.
I twisted around, looping my arms around his shoulders. “Hey, you.” I tipped up on my toes and brushed my lips over his cheek.
Aiden raised an eyebrow. “What kind of hello is that?” His beard grazed my skin as his kiss lingered, deep and loving, but ending too soon. “Love you.”
“Love you more.”
“You sure we have to go to this barbecue?” he murmured, squeezing my hip. “I’ve got this real nice bed—”
A shriek from across the yard cut off his naughty train of thought.
“Hey, hey, hey!”
I ducked a guilty glance around Aiden’s shoulder. Brooke stood in the front doorway with her hand on her hip. Her other hand had a death grip on a clipboard.
“Yolanda warned me you two would waste time with that”—she flapped a furious hand in our direction—“kissing nonsense. Cut that out. We’re on a schedule.”
Aiden tilted his head, his voice low by my ear. “Who gave her a clipboard?”
I was quick to cover my smirk behind my hand. “She gave herself a clipboard.”
Aiden muttered a curse under his breath, and I choked back my laugh when Brooke flashed a ferocious glare in my direction. Wow. She was not playing around anymore. This morning she’d been bossy, but now she was in full-on organising meltdown mode.
Her foot tapped impatiently. “Well? You two gonna stand there all day? I thought we had a house to move into. No?”
She barked orders from the list of jobs pinned to her clipboard. My eyebrows popped up. Harry crept out of the darkness of the hallway behind her, and his index finger pressed over his lips, warning us to keep quiet.
Aiden started whistling and looking up at the sky. A grin burst out of me.
Brooke’s eyes narrowed. “Are you two even listening? We’re already behind schedule. The barbecue starts in exactly one hour, and we still have—”
The high-pitched squeal she shrieked when Harry’s hands clamped around her waist jolted through Aiden like a lightning bolt. My hand shot to his arm, and he sagged into me, his muscles relaxing under my touch. He shook out his clenched fist.
Harry planted kisses over Brooke’s neck until he spun her around. “You kicking butt and taking names, Princess?”
She pouted. “I’m trying, but they’re ruining my schedule.”
“Aw, yeah? And you’re working so hard to keep us all on track, huh? What do you need, Princess? Want a shoulder rub while you talk me through your list again?”
Her red lips curved in a smile. “What about more kisses?”
Harry grinned. “Yeah, I’ve got a never-ending supply of those for you.”
His lips were on her in a flash. She melted against him like butter on toast, but his eyes stayed open, darting over to us. He raised his eyebrows. Waited. Raised them again.
Wait… What?
Exasperated, he frantically waved us through.
Whoops.
Distracted by Harry’s sloppy public display of affection, Brooke didn’t notice us slip past her and the never-ending list of jobs stuck to her clipboard. We escaped inside the farmhouse and headed for the kitchen.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Ruth stirred a pot on the ancient cooktop. Was she making chili? I sniffed the air. Whatever bubbled on the stove smelled yummy . Her head turned ever so slightly. She knew we hovered in the doorway, but she refused to acknowledge us.
Aiden coughed into his fist.
Ruth’s head whipped around. Her dark eyes narrowed, and she snorted an indignant huff over her shoulder before turning her back.
Aiden sighed. “Ruth.”
“Don’t you Ruth me.” She furiously stirred the pot. “I’m still not speaking to either of you.”
“Ruth, we talked about this.”
“ We talked about this ? Oh no, we did not .” She whirled around, the spoon in her hand flicking angry splatters of chili around the kitchen with every word.
“This is a travesty. A crime ! Aiden, how could you let this happen? Lola”—she flashed her sweetest smile at me—“it’s not too late to change your mind.
Aiden has a huge place on the mountain and—”
“Ruth,” Aiden warned.
She ignored him. “Lola, he desperately wanted you to move in with him instead of buying this place. He talked about nothing else for hours. He misses you, and he’s so lonely—”
“Ruth!” Aiden scrubbed a hand down his face. “Stop.”
“Never! You two are perfect together. Perfect. I don’t know why you’re wasting time pretending like you’re not utterly mad for each other by living in separate houses.”
“We’ve only been dating for a few weeks—”
Ruth snorted. “You’ve been in love with Lola for months.” She glanced back at me with a smile full of sunshine. “For months .”
“Stop.” Aiden’s command was gentle but firm. “Lola and I… This is all new. For both of us. We need time to get ourselves right before adding any extra pressure.” He squared up, hands on his hips, and fixed her with a glare. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Until the day you put a ring on that woman’s finger”—Ruth pointed her spoon at me—“you’re absolutely my business. And, well… yeah, okay, probably after that, too. Less, though. Promise.”
Aiden grunted.