Chapter 31 Aidan
AIDAN
The team-building evening wraps up at nine. I desperately want to take Iris back to my place, but as everyone trickles out into the parking lot, it becomes clear there’s no way to get her in my car without someone seeing.
It’s probably for the best. I’m still processing the events of the evening, and need to get my head on straight.
Instead, I pull her aside to remind her we’re visiting the Bushwick studios tomorrow to sign off on their completion, letting my hand brush hers.
It’s not enough, not nearly enough, but it’s all I can have.
For now.
When I climb into my Mercedes, I find myself restless. Soph had her appointment today, and I’ve been meaning to check in. I push thoughts of John away as I merge onto the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, determined to focus on my sister.
She smiles as she opens the door, and it’s a relief to see her looking better.
I pull her into a hug, realizing I haven’t brought food like usual, but she ushers me inside and puts the kettle on to make tea, then we move into the living room.
I sink into the armchair by the window with a steaming mug, and she settles onto her sofa, folding her legs under her.
“How did it go?” I ask. “You had your appointment today?”
She nods, blowing on her tea. “It went… well. I think. But there’s something…” She lets out a nervous breath, and I touch her arm.
“Hey, come on. You know you can tell me anything.”
She laughs faintly. “I know, but it’s just…” She shrugs. “I look at you, and you have your life together, whereas I…”
A wry snort escapes me as I remember sneaking off with Iris on that mini golf course. “My life isn’t nearly as together as you think,” I mutter.
Sophie tilts her head, opening her mouth as if to ask what I mean, and I pretend to be fascinated by my tea. She narrows her eyes, giving me a wry smile. The kind that tells me she knows I’m not sharing something, but she’ll let it go. For now.
“Well, anyway.” She takes a deep breath, cradling her tea, and says in a rush, “It turns out I have ADHD.”
I frown. “What?”
“Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder,” she clarifies.
“No—” I shake my head. “I know what it is, but I thought that’s what little kids have? When they can’t sit still in class?”
Soph huffs a laugh. “Most people do.”
I set my tea on the coffee table, focusing intently on my sister. “Tell me about it.”
“It explains a lot about me,” she murmurs. “I thought it was what you said too, but it’s different in girls. Even more so in women.”
“How?”
“For us, it can look more like…” She laughs, pulling out her phone. “Typical that I can’t remember. Forgetfulness is one of the symptoms. Damn executive dysfunction.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“It means… my brain gets stuck sometimes. It can’t do stuff other people can do easily.”
“Like what?”
“Like… doing a load of laundry, or the dishes. Or”—she cringes—“responding to an email from a gallery that wants to show my work.” She chuffs an uncomfortable laugh, looking at her hands.
“I know it sounds dumb, but it’s like… my brain can’t prioritize what to do.
Or… can’t find the energy to start. I get so overwhelmed, and just shut down. ”
Compassion weaves through me, thinking about my sister struggling. I know things are tough for her sometimes, but not like this.
“It’s not dumb,” I murmur, reaching for her, but she shakes her head, holding up her phone.
“There’s more,” she says, reading aloud from a list. “Problems with time management. Frequently distracted. Emotional intensity. Procrastination. Overcompensating and perfectionism. Struggling with rejection and criticism…” She looks up with a smirk, but it lacks mirth. “Sound familiar?”
I stare at her, pulse thumping, because yes, this sounds very familiar, but it’s not Soph I’m thinking about. It’s Iris. That list describes her.
I try to shake the thought off and focus on my sister. Why am I thinking about Iris? Everyone gets distracted sometimes, or upset when they’re criticized. That’s normal. Besides, Iris isn’t always distracted. Sometimes she focuses so hard she forgets to eat.
Jada pads into the room in her pajamas, smiling when she sees me. “Hey, Aidan. I thought that was you.” She leans across to squeeze my shoulder, then sinks onto the sofa beside Sophie. “Did she tell you?”
I nod.
Jada gives Sophie an affectionate smile. “All this time she thought she needed to try harder, when it’s got nothing to do with how hard she tries. There’s a reason she struggles.”
I shift uncomfortably. Iris flashes into my mind again, and this time, it’s harder to push the image away.
“But it’s not all bad,” Jada continues, glancing at me. “ADHD comes with perks, too.”
I lift my brows. “What do you mean?”
“Well, for one, she’s super creative. We can all see that.”
I glance at Sophie’s canvases stacked against the wall, and nod. My sister has always been artistic and imaginative.
“And because she feels deeply, it means she has a lot of empathy for others.” Jada squeezes Sophie’s hand. “If I’m upset, she gets upset.”
“I hate seeing you upset,” Soph murmurs, leaning her head on Jada’s shoulder.
My chest tightens. I think of Iris in the car on the way to Wetherly Cove, the tears in her eyes as I told her about Mom leaving, as if she’d felt my pain herself.
Jada kisses Sophie’s forehead, turning back to me.
“But when she gets excited about something, it’s contagious.
One of the best ADHD perks is hyperfocus.
Soph can hyperfocus like crazy. I swear, if I didn’t bring her food, she’d paint for twenty-four hours straight without eating.
” Jada laughs. “I wish I had that kind of focus.”
Oh.
Shit.
My mind races as I process this. I’ve seen the parallels between Soph and Iris pretty much from the start, and the more they describe this, the harder it is to deny. Is it possible… Could Iris also have ADHD?
It’s not my place to diagnose. I’m not a doctor.
But everything they’re saying sounds exactly like her, and I can’t help but think about the past couple of months with this new information, mentally scanning for clues.
The times she’s struggled with my calendar, meetings, emails.
The way she often forgets to order lunch, the motel she never booked.
How she insisted on doing her assistant duties on top of the lighthouse project and the team-building task, as if trying to prove herself.
How she’s always hit so hard by John’s words.
My heart softens with tenderness as I think of Iris struggling all this time and not knowing.
The way she talked about college, saying, I just couldn’t keep up.
Guess I’m not as smart as everyone else.
And when I recall her other words from that night—Dad’s right.
All I do is fuck everything up—protectiveness surges through me.
I recall every disparaging word John’s said about his daughter, how she doesn’t know the meaning of hard work, and my hands fist at my side.
Iris works harder than anyone I’ve ever met, and John just refuses to see it. He’s the fucking problem.
And that’s when I know.
There’s no way I can partner with him. He’s nothing like the man I once thought he was. No, he’s petty and cruel. A bully. I thought I respected him as a boss, an architect, but I don’t. How can I, when I don’t even respect him as a man?
And now that I suspect Iris might have ADHD, I can’t let him continue to treat her the way he does. It’s not fair to her. As Jada said, All this time she thought she just needed to try harder, when it’s got nothing to do with how hard she tries. There’s a reason she struggles.
“So anyway,” Sophie mumbles, bringing me back to our conversation. “That’s… that’s where I’m at.”
“The good news,” Jada says, “is now that we know, we can get Soph some support.”
“Right.” I nod, leaning closer. “What does that look like?”
Sophie hikes up a shoulder. “I’m still figuring that out, but I’m considering medication and maybe some coaching.”
“The best thing, though,” Jada adds, stroking her wife’s cheek, “is for Soph to go way easier on herself. To stop blaming herself when things go wrong.”
Sophie swallows, softening into Jada’s side, and gratitude rolls through me.
“Thanks, Jada. For being there.” I give my sister’s knee a squeeze. “And thanks for telling me, Soph. It must be hard.”
She twists her lips to the side in thought. “Yes, and… no. Like, it’s kind of a relief to know there’s something going on. It’s not just me being a big fat failure.”
“Of course you’re not a failure,” I murmur, thinking again of Iris. Would she feel relief to learn about this too? “If someone had suspected you had ADHD,” I ask carefully, “would you have wanted them to tell you?”
Sophie’s eyes narrow. “Why?”
I blow out a breath, wiping a hand down my face. “Because I think… I think my assistant has it.”
Sophie’s brows rise. “Right! The messy one!”
“Yes,” I say, smiling wryly. Is that really how I described Iris to Soph, messy? God, there’s so much more to her than that.
Sophie’s eyes move across my face, a knowing smile tugging at her mouth. “I was right. You do like her, don’t you?”
“I… yes.”
Jada glances between us, sensing her cue, and rises. With a brief kiss on Sophie’s head, she smiles at me and pads to bed. Sophie barely notices, too busy grinning at me.
“Has something happened between you?”
I consider what to share, settling on a nod. I’m in love with her, I think, but I don’t say it. I’ve never said those words to a woman before, and even with Iris, with how natural and right it is, it still feels like a big deal. I won’t say them out loud unless it’s to her.
“What about her dad?” Sophie asks, and my brow furrows.
“Yeah, that’s a problem.”
I think back to the conversation at the bar, the way John was dismissive of Iris’s hard work.
Waterman loved the plans. The Bushwick studios turned out great.
John has admitted as much, but what he won’t admit is Iris’s role in them.
I’m fairly certain he won’t let her work on any future projects, and I can’t make peace with that.
Not only because I refuse to let him crush her spirit, but because she’s freaking talented.
Sure, she doesn’t have the degree, and she lacks the skills to render her ideas in 3D, but she has something far more rare: vision.
And I can’t stand to see that go to waste.
I won’t partner with John. In truth, I’m not sure I even want to continue working with him. Another idea takes shape in my mind. One that looks a lot like starting my own firm. With Iris.
But it’s not that simple. I’d need start-up capital, a business license, clients who actually trust me. There’s a very good chance John could blow up my reputation when I leave, and I’d need to claw my way back.
And that’s assuming Iris would want to work with me in that capacity.
She was hired as an assistant, and while she’s enjoyed working on these projects, would she want to take on the responsibility of our own firm?
The last thing I want is to put more pressure on her when she’s already struggling.
I know she could do it, but she may not think so. I’d hate to add to her stress.
“You have to tell her,” Soph murmurs. “To answer your question, if someone had suspected I had this and it could have helped?” She sinks back onto the sofa with a sigh. “Yes, I would have wanted to know.”
I cringe, thinking of how headstrong Iris can be. Would she even want to hear this from me?
“I don’t know,” I mumble. “I don’t want to overstep.”
“You’re not overstepping. It’s not like you’re diagnosing her, right?”
“Right,” I agree. I’m in no position to do that.
“Tell her about me. Tell her I was recently diagnosed, and it got you thinking about some traits you noticed in her. Do it gently,” Sophie adds. “I know you will. But… you should say something. It’s changed everything for me.”
I study my sister, the relief etched into her features, her soft smile. She’s right.
Somehow, I have to find a way to tell Iris that I think she might have ADHD.